A Perfect Case of Murder

by B. T. Lord

  For as long as she’d known Doc, he’d always been circumspect when it came to his family and his life in general. There was so much about him she didn’t know. Although she understood how much it meant to him to have her here, it also meant that his life was on full display, a fact that she was sure he was finding exceedingly uncomfortable. Rather than subject him to more nosy questions – and these were nosy since she couldn’t come up with an excuse to say they were part in discovering who killed Helen -- she instead suggested they call it a night. “It’s been a long day and I’m pretty tired. We can get a hotel room and get a good night’s rest. From what I’ve heard, it may be best to visit Lily tomorrow when we’re wide awake and on our toes.”

  “Actually, Horatio has graciously allowed us to stay in his apartment over on Atlantic Ave.”

  “I thought he lived in Wyoming.”

  Doc swung out onto Beacon Street and started down the street. “He does, but he keeps an apartment here for the quarterly meetings he flies in for with Father and the accountants on the workings and finances of the ranch. It has three bedrooms and overlooks Boston Harbor. Plenty of room for two vagabonds from Maine.”

  Because of Boston’s one way streets, and the beginning of the afternoon commute, it took them forty-five minutes to go a few miles. Once again Cammie was struck by how much she’d changed since moving to Twin Ponds. This never would have bothered her before, but now she was ready to jump out of her skin as they sat, not moving, on Storrow Drive, the winding, narrow highway that snaked along the shores of the Charles River.

  Under Doc’s disapproving eye, she turned the radio on to a local rock station and sang as they crept along. She couldn’t be sure if her singing had anything to do with it, but Doc careened off the next exit and took several side streets to get them to Horatio’s apartment that much quicker. Finally, after several turns that she’d long ago lost track of, they pulled into what had once been a fish pier, but now housed beautiful red brick condos right on the harbor. Doc pulled into a parking spot in front of the building closest to the water and shut off the Navigator.

  They took their bags out of the trunk and got onto the elevator to the top floor of the three floor building. When Doc opened the door to the apartment, Cammie’s eyes widened at the opulence before her. There was a step down into a vast living room that dwarfed her tiny two room cabin back home. The far wall was all glass which gave a gorgeous view of Boston Harbor and East Boston located across the water. The furniture itself was modern and comfortable, and on the walls were original works of abstract art that were reminiscent of the paintings she’d seen in Helen’s home. The floors were a dark hard wood over which lay thick Persian rugs. Although Horatio only visited four times a year, it was obvious someone came in and kept the apartment immaculate.

  The condo was an open floor plan. Doc dropped his bag and went immediately to the other side of the polished concrete counter which delineated the kitchen from the living room. There, he withdrew a bottle from the wine fridge. He took out two delicate looking wine glasses from a nearby cabinet, opened the bottle and filled the glasses with red wine.

  Cammie moved to the window and looked out at the spectacular view. A moment later, Doc came up beside her and handed her the glass of wine.

  “One never tires of the view,” he said as he joined her looking out at the dusk just settling over the city, the nightlights reflecting in the water.

  “As much as it must have been difficult growing up the way you did, you still had this,” Cammie said as she spread her hand out towards the vista. Doc nodded. “It’s hard to imagine this place is only used four times a year. If I lived here, I don’t think I’d ever leave,” she chuckled.

  “Here’s to Boston Harbor,” Doc said, raising his glass. “The world may change, but the waters keep flowing.” They clinked glasses and Cammie took a sip of a wine that was exceptionally tasty. Not too dry with a hint of fruit. If nothing else, this trip was going to leave her with a taste for very fine wine. And food.

  “I’ll call Lily and tell her to expect us tomorrow,” Doc replied.

  “Listen, I know how much you hate to talk about your family, but I’d like to be prepared. Especially if I have to shoot someone for insulting you. What’s all this about Lily’s first husband disappearing and the second one dying? Is she some kind of black widow?”

  “I could tell it was killing you not to ask when Bitsy brought it up.”

  “I can be sensitive to your emotions, you know.”

  “Then why are you asking now?”

  Cammie smirked. “Because it’s killing me not knowing what happened.”

  Doc barked out a laugh. “Now that’s the Cammie I know and love.” He took a sip of his wine. “Lily’s first husband Tom founded a charity down in Peru. At first he tried to run it from up here, but after their divorce, he moved down there permanently. About a year ago, he went into one of the more remote areas of the Amazon jungle and never emerged. A search party was organized, with his family offering a sizeable reward for any news of his whereabouts, but no trace of him was ever found. It was sad, really. He was a good man.”

  “What about husband number two?”

  “Charles was what we would call an adrenalin junkie. The more dangerous the sport, the more he had to try it. Mind you, this is a man who climbed Everest twice. Last month he went out to San Francisco on business. He rented a speedboat and took off. Several hours later, when he hadn’t returned, a search was conducted. They found the speedboat flipped over near the Farallon Islands, but there was no sign of Charles.”

  “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Because it’s probably in every TV nature show on sharks.”

  “That’s right. That’s one of the best places to see and conduct research on the great white shark.”

  “Exactly. So it’s not surprising that his body wasn’t found.”

  Cammie grimaced. “Jeez. One husband dies in the Amazon jungle and the other turns into shark bait.”

  Doc glanced at her. “Very graphically put.”

  “No wonder Lily isn’t exactly the poster child for being warm and fuzzy.”

  “She was a bitch ever since she was a child. These accidents have only made her bitchier. And, unfortunately, more dramatic.” He sighed. “On a good day, she can put the old silent film actresses, with their swooning and melodramatic hand gestures, to shame.” To illustrate his point, he put his hand to his forehead and fluttered his eyes. Cammie laughed out loud.

  “Other than that, what else can you tell me about her?”

  Doc’s mouth settled into a thin line. “All I will say is that, in some respects, she is exactly like her mother.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning, Cammie awoke to the sun streaming in through the windows. She never thought she’d ever find another bed from paradise, but then again, she was hobnobbing with the rich. Beds like this were a dime a dozen for them. Though, come to think of it, she could now afford one of these as well.

  Her ex-boyfriend Eli Kelley had left her $500,000, as well as his two Stanley Cup rings in his will. Living on a shoestring budget for most of her life, she still hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around the fact that she could now buy things she’d only salivated about in the past.

  This bed was one of those items she could now afford. The thought appealed to her.

  Doc had given her the bedroom with the view of the harbor and as she climbed out of bed, she smelled the enticing aroma of bacon and eggs wafting through the condo. She quickly jumped into the marble shower with the several jets that was a contender for the shower from heaven at Doc’s own luxurious cabin in Twin Ponds. Considering they were going to Brookline, one of the more affluent sections of Boston, she decided to forgo jeans and slipped into a pair of beige chinos and a white shirt over which she put on a black sweater. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she laughed. By God, she was beginning to resemble a Boston socialite. If you overlooked the unruly auburn curls that sh
e could never quite tame. And the undecidedly non-patrician face.

  She left the bedroom and made her way across the living room towards the kitchen. Doc was standing at the counter, reading the news from his iPad as he ate an omelet he’d made. In Twin Ponds, Doc never sat still for very long. He always ate standing up as he read the news, cooked his meals and prepared the mud that, in Cammie’s mind, passed for coffee. She was happy to see that he seemed more like himself this morning. She knew how difficult it was for Doc to revisit a life he thought he’d left behind, returning to the harsh judgments from his father. But a good night’s sleep appeared to revitalize him. She decided to test the waters by teasing him. As she sat down at the counter, he slid a mug of coffee towards her and a plate filled with home fries, bacon and scrambled eggs.

  “Is this that mud you like to drink?” she asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Am I not suffering enough being here without your uneducated aspersions on the best coffee on earth?”

  Cammie inwardly smiled. The Doc she knew was back.

  “It looks like you made enough to feed an army,” she said as she dug into her breakfast.

  “You’re going to need every ounce of strength today.”

  “I already met your father. How bad can it be?”

  “I think Custer said something similar as he rode into the valley of the Little Bighorn.”

  As a one-time private investigator, Cammie thought she knew most of Boston’s neighborhoods, but as Doc maneuvered his Navigator through winding, tree lined streets, she had to admit, she’d never seen this part of Brookline. Only a few large houses were visible over the tall shrubs that acted as fences, while the rest were set back so far they couldn’t be seen from the street.

  This was the suburb where football great Tom Brady and his model wife Gisele lived. This was the suburb where the most expensive house in Massachusetts was put up for sale at $90 million. For tourists, this was the suburb where John F. Kennedy had been born and where the house of his birth still stood, with original artifacts for them to ooh and aah over.

  It was home to that part of society that, before meeting Doc, Cammie would never have had access to.

  Finally Doc turned into a driveway flanked by two large pillars on top of which sat a reclining lion carved in stone. They drove down alongside an immaculately kept lawn until they came in sight of an enormous, Italian-styled villa that brought to mind the mansions of Newport, Rhode Island. The driveway curved around a bubbling fountain in front of the massively ornate front door. Rather than drive around the fountain, Doc parked near the entranceway.

  “Welcome to Merriweather Farm,” he said as he turned off the car. Cammie could only stare at the size and lavish carvings on the outside of the home. Doc glanced at her. “Yes, it is a bit overdone, but that’s Lily for you.”

  “Wow. This looks like one of those huge English country estates.”

  “The original owner was English, but it was the rage at the time to build Italian inspired villas.”

  They got out of the car and walked up the short steps to the door. Doc rang the doorbell.

  “How many bedrooms does this place have?” Cammie asked.

  “Nine, I believe.”

  “Does she have any children?”

  “Thankfully no.” Cammie gave him a puzzled look. At that moment the door swung open and a woman stood there.

  “Would you please tell Mrs. Evans that Dr. Westerfield and Ms. Farnsworth are here to see her?”

  The woman nodded and allowed them to enter. Although within the last twenty four hours, Cammie had stood in some of the most lavish homes imaginable, she nevertheless stifled a gasp as she found herself standing in a huge marble foyer. In the center of the foyer stood a round antique table on top of which stood a large bouquet of fresh flowers. On either side of the large room were square columns which had large fern trees planted in ornate pots in front of each column. Directly across the entranceway was a clear view to floor to ceiling windows, outside of which Cammie could make out Italian statues strategically placed around a rectangular shaped fish pond. The entire room was designed using the finest Carrera marble. To the right of the foyer stood a grand curving staircase that led upstairs.

  “This is like living in a museum,” she whispered to Doc.

  “It was built in the 1920s to impress.”

  “Then I’d say it’s done its job. I can’t believe it’s just Lily rattling around this humongous place. I’d need a trail of breadcrumbs to find my way around.”

  “It’s all about appearances, my dear. And Lily is an expert at that.”

  While Cammie looked about her, marveling at the richness of the foyer, Doc tapped his foot impatiently. Five, ten, then fifteen minutes passed. Doc grew more and more frustrated. “I hate when she does this,” he seethed under his breath. Cammie, who had wandered over to look out over the gardens, turned back in time to see Doc throw his hands up in the air.

  “This is ridiculous. I will not stand here and be insulted any longer. I have better things to do with my time,” he exclaimed as he started towards the front door. Cammie hurried across the foyer, careful not to slip on the marble floor.

  “Doc, we can’t leave.”

  “She’s kept us waiting a quarter of an hour. There is no excuse for that. I specifically phoned and told her what time we were coming. This is just one of her endless games she insists on playing.”

  “You need to get the funeral arrangements finalized. So we either wait and do it now or come back another day. Since we’re here already…”

  Doc rolled his eyes. “Five more minutes. If she hasn’t come down, I’m going upstairs.”

  As if she knew she’d pushed Doc a bit too far, footsteps were heard on the stairs. A moment later, a tall, very thin woman appeared. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black sweater that was tightly cinched at the waist. As she drew closer, Cammie could smell the scent of a light perfume. She noticed the perfect makeup on the woman’s face, as well as the perfectly cut blonde hair that curled inwards around her jawline. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her too smooth face.

  For someone who’d lost two husbands and a mother in a short period of time, Lily Evans didn’t look too heartbroken. Of course, Cammie thought cattily, the botox could be interfering with the physical effects grief ravaged on one’s face.

  “Samuel,” she greeted breezily as she bent slightly at the waist to kiss first Doc’s right cheek then his left. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I was on the phone with Louis. It’s simply impossible to get an appointment with the man, but I finally managed to do just that.”

  Doc didn’t buy her excuse for one moment. He knew how much Lily lived for her extravagant entrances. Today was no exception.

  “Lily, this is Cammie Farnsworth.”

  Lily raised a perfectly curved eyebrow. “Oh yes, you’re the sheriff from wherever it is you live.”

  “Twin Ponds,” Cammie offered.

  “Are you here to investigate my mother’s murder?”

  “No, I’m not here in any official capacity. I’m here as Samuel’s friend, that’s all.”

  “My, Samuel, you do have some rather interesting friends.” She turned on her heel. “Let’s go upstairs to the sitting room where we can talk. I’ve had Maria set out coffee and tea.”

  Cammie followed the two upstairs. As she came up to the landing, she once again had to be careful not to let her jaw drop as she took in the rich setting. There was a marble fireplace in the large room. Two comfortable couches were on either side of the fireplace. In the center between the two was an oblong glass coffee table on which another large bouquet of freshly cut flowers was placed. The hard wood floors were a very dark brown, over which thick rugs were placed. They walked past the living area into another room. It was smaller and Cammie could tell this was a woman’s room. The walls were a light yellow, and the furniture was pale orange and green striped. There was a writing desk set near the window that looked out over the
wide expanse of emerald green lawn. It was hard to imagine that this estate was right in the middle of a bustling city. Beyond the lawns lay traffic and highways and lots of people. Here, one was completely isolated from all that. In fact, it was hard to grasp that they were only 6 miles from downtown Boston.

  “Would you prefer tea or coffee?” Lily asked as she sat down on the sofa in front of a silver tea set.

  “Coffee,” Doc practically barked. Cammie saw he was still upset at having been kept waiting and prayed he wouldn’t cause any trouble.

  “And you?”

  She was about to say tea, but after what she’d been through in her last case, she opted for coffee. She only hoped this coffee wasn’t the thick mud Doc liked to drink. She was a coffee in my milk type of coffee drinker and preferred it lightly roasted.

  She watched as Lily expertly poured the coffee into delicate teacups. “One lump or two?” she asked. Doc refrained. Cammie said one. Lily took a pair of tongs and took the sugar cube from a bowl and put them into Cammie’s teacup. “Milk?”

  “Yes, please.” She poured a tiny amount. When Cammie asked for a little more milk, Lily’s eyebrow went up and Cammie immediately thought she had committed a serious social faux pas. Nevertheless Lily did as she asked and gave her the cup. She politely took a sip.

  Damn. It still tasted like crap. She was going to have to convince a horrified Doc to take her to Dunkin Donuts to get a decent cup of coffee when they left here.

  “I’m very sorry about the death of your mother. I’m sure you two were very close,” Cammie offered by way of polite condolences.

  “She was my mother,” Lily answered.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  Her light brown eyes widened slightly. “I thought you said you weren’t here in any official capacity.”

  Cammie smiled self-consciously. “You’re right. I apologize. It’s just habit.”

  “I have already answered questions from the Maine police. I’ll tell you what I told them. The last time I saw Mother was at her birthday party in September. You remember that, don’t you Samuel? You were there as well.”