by B. T. Lord
“Yeah, I do. Thanks.”
They hung up and she reentered the cabin to find Jace and Doc sitting on the couch, going through the papers in the manila folders she and Doc had removed from Helen’s safe. She grabbed one of the folders and soon she too was nose deep in paperwork.
There was information on her investments, an album of family photos, a copy of her last will and testament. In the last folder, they found a stack of her bank statements going back several years. She looked up to tell Doc what she’d found when she caught him looking around the room. His face was pinched with sadness and grief. Having gotten caught up in their mission, she mentally kicked herself for forgetting how difficult this was for him.
“You know,” she said as she closed the folder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a bit tired. Why don’t we look at this stuff tomorrow when we have a clearer head?”
Jace looked up at her, perplexed. As long as he’d known her, Cammie never stopped working on something until she found what she was after. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she cocked her head towards Doc. He glanced at him and comprehension spread on his face.
“That’s a great idea, babe,” he replied. “My brain’s a bit fried from looking through all these papers.”
He gathered everything and placed them back into the folders. Both he and Cammie stood up.
“What am I going to do with this place?” Doc replied, giving voice to the emotions marring his face. “I suppose I should sell it. I certainly don’t need it.” He ran his hand over the sofa cushion. “At the same time, Helen loved this place so much. I hate the thought of someone else living here.”
“You can always rent it out to fishermen and hunters,” Jace suggested.
“And have Helen haunt my dreams?” He passed his hand over his chin. “I suppose I don’t need to make any decisions just yet.”
“No, you don’t.”
At that moment, Cammie’s phone rang. Looking at the display, she quickly answered.
“Hey, Sean. I’m going to put you on speaker phone.” She clicked a button and the three of them gathered around her.
“I got the dope on Jay Barry,” Sean’s voice replied. “He hung out his shingle about six years ago. He’s ex-FBI and has a group of retired G-men working for him. He does excellent work, but he ain’t cheap. He seems to specialize on doing whatever work the Boston hoity-toidy need. And if there’s one thing I’ve discovered over the years, they got more secrets than the Freemasons.”
Cammie gave Doc an embarrassed glance. “Thanks, Sean. You’ve been a big help. Send me a bill.”
“Hey, cos of you I got Camille in my life. This one’s on the house.”
“I’m not surprised by that information,” Doc replied when Cammie hung up. “Helen would only hire the best.” He stood up. “I made reservations at that little inn we stayed at the last time we were up here.”
He threw on his jacket and walked out. Jace looked at Cammie.
“This has really been hard on him, hasn’t it?”
She nodded. “I hope this is the last of it. Then hopefully he can get back to normal.”
Jace smiled. “Whatever normal means to Doc.”
That night, after dinner, they each retired to their rooms. All day long, Cammie had been debating the wisdom of making a particular phone call, but kept putting it off. Being in Allagash had brought it to mind and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Finally, in the privacy of their room, while Jace showered, she gave in and dialed the phone.
“Lieutenant Mantree,” came the response.
“Geoff, it’s Cammie.”
“Hey Cam, what can I do for you?”
“Look, I’m really calling more out of curiosity than anything else. I just want you to know I’m not interfering, or second guessing you.”
She heard a chuckle on the other side. “Out with it, Sheriff. What’s bothering you?”
She bit her lip. “Well, I’m wondering what Henry Harding said when you found Helen’s possessions in his barn.”
“Oh, he readily admitted to taking them. He said that she owed him at least that much after dragging out this case to the point where she knew he’d lose everything.”
“When did he do the theft?”
“It was after Win found her body. After calling us, he called Henry. Henry didn’t quite believe it and took himself over there to check it out. It was then he had the idea of going through her place and trying to find some items he could sell to recoup his losses.”
“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?”
“Not by a long shot. Even if we hadn’t found the items in his barn, the fingerprint analysis came back, showing his prints all over the house.”
“Did he say why he destroyed her place?”
“He claims it was already that way when he arrived.”
“Interesting…”
“Are you doubting Henry is the murderer?”
Cammie opened her mouth, then shut it. Finally, she raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m not sure what I think.”
“I thought you and Dr. Westerfield would be happy about Henry’s arrest. With this case closed, you two can get back to your normal routine in Twin Ponds. ”
“Yeah,” she said non-committedly.
“Well, if you come up with anything else, be sure to call me. But I think this is one of those rare cases that is as cut and dried as it looks.”
They said their good-byes and hung up. Just as she placed her cell on the night stand, Jace came out of the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his torso and his hair was wet. He took one look at her even messier than usual hair and the thoughtful look on her face and immediately sat down on the bed next to her.
“I heard you talking on the phone. Everything okay?” She told him about her conversation with Geoff. “So, what’s wrong? From what you told me, Harding had the perfect motive.”
“I know. And Geoff is probably right about him being the murderer.”
“So you obviously think Eliot Westerfield is no longer a suspect?”
She nodded. “He was a physical wreck. I can’t see him travelling all the way up to Allagash and shooting his sister without having a heart attack right there in the cemetery.”
“So why do you look so – I don’t know – concerned, upset.”
Cammie sighed. “Maybe it’s the fact that Helen isn’t as squeaky clean as everyone thought. I think even Doc is having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that his aunt wasn’t Mother Teresa.”
“Maybe you’re over thinking this right now. You don’t yet know why she hired that private investigator in Boston. Leave all this until tomorrow morning when you and Doc call him.”
Cammie lowered her head and rubbed her eyes with her hands. “You’re right. I’ve just got to stop all this from going round and round in my head.”
A second later, she felt Jace nuzzling the back of her neck. “I may have a way of helping you forget Doc and Helen and Henry and all of this crazy shit.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I like the way you think.”
They gathered in Doc’s room the next morning. He and Cammie sat on his bed, while Jace sat in a nearby chair. Doc had his cell phone out on the bed between himself and Cammie with the speaker on. He’d called the number on the bill and was awaiting the receptionist to connect him with the private investigator.
“Jay Barry here,” came a low, rumbling, no nonsense voice.
“Mr. Barry, this is Doctor Samuel Westerfield. I believe you did some work for my aunt, Helen Carsgrove.”
There was a long pause, then Barry said, “Yes, Dr. Westerfield, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You have?” Doc asked, startled.
“Yes. Mrs. Carsgrove said that if anything ever happened to her, you would be phoning me.”
Indeed?” Doc asked, his voice calm, but his eyes the size of saucers as he stared at Cammie in disbelief. “I have to admit Mr. Barry, I was in ignorance
over my aunt using your services. I only discovered your existence after going through her personal papers. Tell me, what exactly did she ask you to do?”
“She hired me to investigate her son-in-law, Charles Evans.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Doc’s jaw dropped. “Charles? Whatever for?”
“She was interested in his financial picture.”
“Now I’m quite confused,” Doc confessed.
“Naturally, she didn’t explain why she wanted me to do what she was asking – most clients don’t. She simply asked me to look into Mr. Evan’s finances.”
“And what were you able to find?”
They heard the sounds of papers being flipped before Barry answered. “Basically, Dr. Westerfield, Mr. Evans was hemorrhaging money. It seems he had a fondness for gambling, women, drugs and buying quite expensive toys. It’s not cheap globetrotting around Europe in the circles he traveled in. He was borrowing money from wherever and whomever he could, including some that showed the desperate straits he was in.”
“Are you basically telling me he was insolvent?”
“Not quite. But he could work until he was one hundred and two and he’d still never catch up with what he owed.”
“Who are these people you’re referring to?”
“If you give me your email, I’ll send you a copy of my report. In there, you’ll find a comprehensive list of his main creditors, as well as a dossier on all his activities, both legal and illegal.”
Doc thanked him for his time and hung up, shell shocked by what he’d just heard.
“This case is becoming curiouser and curiouser,” Cammie murmured.
“You know, I just remembered something,” Doc replied as he sat back against the headboard. “The last time I saw Helen, we were having dinner in her living room and I had the distinct feeling that she wanted to tell me something. But it seemed every time she started to speak, she would stop and begin to speak of something trivial.” He pursed his lips. “I wish I had pressed her to tell me what was on her mind. I have a feeling it had to do with what we’ve just discovered.”
“Tell you what. Let’s put all that aside for now and look through her bank statements and ledgers.”
The three slowly went through everything, making notes as they went along. They worked through lunch and it wasn’t until almost two o’clock by the time they were done. They were each bleary eyed and stumbled downstairs in the hopes of getting something to eat. They practically inhaled their food, then went back upstairs to Doc’s room where Cammie pulled all their notes together.
“Okay. We were able to track all the payments Helen made to Westerfield, as well as several payments to Lily over the years, including some large ones made out to Tom’s charity long before Carole claims she had that conversation with her brother over blackmailing Lily.” She took out a piece of paper and held it up. “These, however are what have me suspicious. There are five huge payments under what she calls sundry items. They start in July of last year, two months before Tom disappeared and continue until mid-March, totaling $950,000.” She looked up at Doc. “Do you have any idea what these could be for?”
Doc shook his head. “It might have been renovations she was doing to enlarge the barn, but I really don’t know.”
“Then there’s Charles. She has him investigated starting in January. Then he dies in March. Are the two related?”
“Of course. Helen specifically went out to California and monkeyed with the speed boat he rented so he could drown off the Farallon Islands,” Doc snapped testily.
Cammie slowly let out her breath. “I’m sorry, Doc. I’m not accusing Helen of anything. I’m just trying to make sense of all these seemingly random pieces.”
“I understand that. But sometimes an accidental death is just an accidental death. And a sundry item could be anything that doesn’t involve murder and mayhem.”
“Of course, if this Evans guy owed the wrong people money, like drug dealers, it’s always possible someone did monkey with the boat. Or followed him out to make sure he had an accident,” Jace spoke up.
“Maybe the list of creditors Barry compiled will answer that,” Cammie suggested.
Doc leaned over to the night stand and picked up his Ipad. A few moments later, he was flipping through his emails. “Ah, here we are.” Cammie and Jace sat on either side of him as they went through the list. “Good Lord,” Doc exclaimed. “He owed just about every major bank in Boston and London money, not to mention several close family friends. My God, it says here he owed Helen at least $750,000.” He continued scrolling down.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Cammie exclaimed. “Back up!” Doc did as she asked. She quickly scanned the list and let out a whistle. “Holy shit.”
“What are you cursing about?” Doc asked.
“Look at those names. Boris Sherazanko, Phil Buttarazzi, Morry Temple. Do you have any idea who those guys are that Charles owed-” She did a quick calculation in her head as she looked at the figures “Holy crap – that he owed close to $4 million to!”
“No, should I?”
She shook her head to herself. “Those three guys are bad news. Worse than bad news. Sherazanko alone is part of the Russian mafia. He’s reported to have ordered the killing of at least 100 people. The other two are just as bad. Jeez, what the hell was Charles thinking to get involved with those criminals?”
Doc abruptly slammed shut the Ipad, much to Cammie and Jace’s surprise. “Maybe there’s nothing to figure out. Maybe it all played out exactly the way it looks. Tom disappeared in the Amazon trying to help out a village in need. Charles drowned because of his ludicrous need for excessive speed. Henry Harding killed Helen in a fit of rage because of the ridiculous lawsuit that never should have been filed in the first place. End of story.” He stood and crossed the room in two strides. “I’m going out for some air.”
When he was gone, Jace and Cammie exchanged glances. “Alrighty then,” she muttered as she began to straighten out the papers.
“He can’t face the fact that his aunt may have been involved somehow. I could tell how much those sundry items bothered him,” Jace said as he saw the dejected look on Cammie’s face.
She ran her hands through her hair, leaving her bangs standing straight up. “Let me run through this out loud and tell me if it makes any sense.”
Jace sat up. “Go for it.”
“Okay. Last spring Tom Hightower disappears in the Amazon. In January, Helen hires a PI to look into Charles’ finances. Though why she did so at this particular time remains a mystery.”
“All those rich people kinda run in the same circles, don’t they?” Jace suggested. “Maybe she heard through the grapevine that Charles was going through money like crazy and wanted to see if the rumors were true to protect her daughter’s money.”
“I agree. So Barry gives her his report in mid-February. A week later she’s in Boston changing her will. But instead of leaving half to Lily and half to Doc, she changes it and gives most of it to Doc. Was it because she grew not only tired of funding Lily’s lifestyle like Vance suggested, but because she was also unwittingly funding Charles’ dissolute lifestyle as well? I wonder if she ever shared this report with Lily.” Cammie’s eyes opened as a thought occurred to her. “Is that what the sundry payments were for? Did Helen have a hand in getting rid of a man who had the potential to embarrass not only Lily, but her as well? I mean, the guy is doing drugs, hanging around with prostitutes, rubbing elbows with criminals.”
“The timing’s a bit off though. You said the sundry payments started in July. She didn’t contact Barry until January.”
Cammie grabbed the paper and looked at it. “But they stop mid-March, right around the time Charles died.”
Jace shifted his weight on the bed. “Even if Helen did pay someone to get rid of Charles, you’re never going to be able to prove it. Both of them are dead. And I doubt that if Lily knew anything about it, she’ll admit it to you or anyone.”
“A
perfect dead end,” Cammie groused as she fell back on the bed with a thud. She stared up at the ceiling, a defeated look on her face. “Both Tom and Charles died before Helen did, so we can’t pin her murder on them. And if Lily did do it, we have absolutely no proof or any way of finding that proof.” She sighed. “It seems Henry Harding is going to be convicted of a murder he may very well be innocent of. That just blows.”
“You’ve done everything you can, Cam. You’ve done more than most would have done. Unfortunately, at this point, you’re just wasting your time and energy. As much as I know you hate hearing it, you’re going to have to let this one go.”
Cammie looked over to Jace. And reluctantly nodded. “You’re right,” she sighed.
He reached out and took her hand. “And the bottom line is that this isn’t your case.”
“That too.” She leaned over and kissed him. “When did you become so wise?”
“I was born wise. It just takes some people a little time to realize it.”
They laughed and together began to put all the papers in order. By the time everything was put away, Doc returned.
“The walk did me good.”
“Did you come to any conclusions?”
He nodded. “I did. I’ve concluded that it’s time to return to Twin Ponds and get on with our lives. As unfortunate as it is, Helen died at the hands of a man who was driven to the brink by the loss of everything he’d ever known.” He paused. “I’ve also decided to use some of her money to expand her home and make it into a retreat for the underprivileged children she supported through her charity work. They’ll have a place to come to where they can enjoy the virgin wilderness and learn skills they can take back with them. I know it’s what she would have wanted. I’m going to call it The Helen Carsgrove Wilderness Retreat in her honor.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Doc wished, life in Twin Ponds did return to normal. He immersed himself, both in his patients and in the plans to remake Helen’s home to reflect her love and concern to give children a chance to make a success of their lives.