The officer frowned. “Strange things like what?”
Lexie pressed her lips together as she considered the question. “‘Out, damned spot. I see spots on my hands.’ It looked like she was hallucinating that blood was on her hands.”
“Was there any blood?”
“No. I think it was a manifestation of her guilt. Later, she admitted that she and her husband murdered Mayor Leer.”
Officer Reading’s eyes widened. “The previous mayor of Vernon Hills?”
Lexie nodded.
She rubbed her eyes and continued, “Scarlet said that she and Mayor James MacDougal poisoned Mayor Leer with a medication given to them by Bella Leer. All the fighting started after she announced that to the room.”
“Let’s go back to after Scarlet MacDougal let you inside. What happened next?”
“I walked down the hallway and stopped outside an office when I heard voices. I peeked inside and saw Cesare Garland, Mayor MacDougal, Bella Leer, and Donna Leer. I didn’t go in, but I could still hear them talking. They were discussing the Vernon Hills budget. Then the conversation changed to the scandals surrounding the last election. Apparently, there are videos and pictures of the Leer sisters using sex to garner support for Bella. The sisters started fighting about the evidence. Then Cesare brought up the death of their younger sister Dahlia Leer. He said Bella and Donna killed her.”
“When was this?” Officer Reading scribbled on her notepad. “When did Dahlia Leer die?”
Lexie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just moved here.”
“That makes two of us. Please continue.”
“Cesare said he had videos and audio footage of them talking about pushing Dahlia down the stairs. Bella and Donna starting blaming each other. Then I was knocked into the room by Scarlet.”
Lexie reached forward and grabbed the water bottle. The water felt like a razorblade as it scraped down her raw, dry throat. She barely managed to keep from shuddering as the cold liquid hit her stomach like lead.
Officer Reading put her pen down. “Do you need a break?”
“No!” Lexie breathed in deeply. “I just want to finish.”
Lexie wasn’t sure how long she sat in silence. Her eyes were fixed on the table, studying the old ring marks from cups and bottles. She wondered how many people had been interrogated in that room. How many murders had taken place in Vernon Hills?
“Scarlet was still rambling,” Lexie finally continued, “but she eventually said that she and her husband poisoned Mayor Leer with the help of Bella. That made Donna really mad, and she started fighting with her sister.”
“Fighting or arguing?”
“Both. Bella slammed Donna against the desk, and a letter opener pierced through her chest.” Lexie’s voice started trembling. “I had to watch as she bled to death! It was horrible!”
“I imagine so, and you are a very strong woman for telling me everything,” encouraged Officer Reading.
Lexie nodded. “After Donna died, Bella was overcome with grief or guilt or something along those lines. She blamed everything on the MacDougals. Scarlet was wandering around the office, and Bella grabbed her. Then she snapped her neck, and Mayor MacDougal fainted.”
“So, the mayor did witness the murders of Donna Leer and Scarlet MacDougal.”
“Yes, but he didn’t see Cesare kill Bella!” cried Lexie. “Bella ran at Cesare and they struggled for a bit. Then he smashed her head in with a tape dispenser. She fell to the ground and died. Maybe you can find fingerprints on the weapon.”
Lexie went silent again. It was time to show Officer Reading the only physical proof she had. She pushed her hair away from her neck to give the policewoman a full view of the handprints on her neck and throat. The bruises were a nasty mixture of blue and purple, and Lexie ruefully remembered the comment made by Cesare about victory robes.
“Cesare gave you those?” Officer Reading’s voice was calm, but Lexie detected anger in her jade eyes.
“I don’t know why he didn’t kill me too,” Lexie muttered.
“Earlier you told me that he threatened you. Perhaps he believed that he scared you enough to keep you away from the police.”
“Well, he kind of did.”
Officer Reading’s lips tugged upward. “You eventually came to us and told the truth. He didn’t win in the end.”
“Cesare said he was going to tell you that my friends and I were behind all the murders. We didn’t kill anybody!” Lexie implored.
Officer Reading looked away, sighed, and muttered, “What is going on in this town? What about the fourth victim? She was an employee of Garland Corporation.”
“Cesare’s secretary showed up right before I left,” explained Lexie. “She gave Cesare the story to tell to the police. Cesare threatened me, and I left. Maybe he killed her too. After what I saw him do, it wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Officer Reading asked gently.
Lexie thought back to the massacre at town hall. There wasn’t anything else the police needed to know. She had Officer Reading’s trust, and Lexie was positive that she would lose it if she mentioned the legend of Shakespeare’s magic keys.
Her mind flickered back further. Although, Dr. Lindegaard was already locked up, more accusations could be placed on him. He needed to take responsibility for the car accident that had killed two men and landed Lexie in the hospital with a screwed up shoulder and arm.
Shouldn’t it be enough for me that he’s getting put in jail?
“Ms. Stanley?”
“Not about town hall, but I think the car crash I was in was planned by Dr. Lindegaard. He thought Nickolas was in the car. There’s no proof unless he admits it. Maybe you can ask him about it during your interrogation.”
The officer nodded slowly and scribbled something on her notepad. “I’ll be sure to look into it. Thank you for all of your help. Now, get some rest. Expect us to be in contact soon.”
Both women left the room in silence. Officer Reading marched down a hallway of offices while Lexie made her way back to the lobby. She had no clue what to do next. She didn’t even know if anyone would be waiting for her.
“Are you alright?” Pierre was standing in the middle of the lobby.
Lexie smiled and approached him tiredly.
“Did you tell her everything?”
“Yeah, but nothing about the curse.” Lexie frowned and twisted her mouth quizzically. “I thought you were going with Nickolas and Braedon. You said they could be in danger at the hospital.”
“I think those two can handle themselves,” Pierre answered. “I spoke with Braedon, and he said you told him about the curse.”
“I did, but I don’t think he believes me,” Lexie said as they left the police station.
“Well, I think he does or, at the very least, he’s starting to. That’s why I let him and Nickolas go to the hospital alone. Braedon said he’d keep an eye out for anything unusual,” Pierre explained. “We can trust him. We’ve been able to trust him all along. Plus, he has a thing for you.”
And I have a thing for him too. “I feel horrible for Nickolas. He’s lost so much.”
Pierre nodded. “It’s very sad, but he still has people who care about him. Personally, I believe Flora and Braedon love Nickolas more than his mom and uncle ever did.”
Lexie didn’t reply. She had been thinking the same thing for quite some time.
“We need to get to the theatre,” Pierre said abruptly, yanking Lexie out of her angst-filled thoughts.
“Why? It’s a pile of rubble now.”
Pierre looked down, seeming to watch as his shoes slapped against the sidewalk. “I know, believe me.”
“Why are we going back if you know nothing helpful is there?” Lexie asked with confusion.
“Actually, there is something we need. I didn’t think about it until a few hours ago.”
Pierre picked up the pace, his long legs eating up the pavement with ease. Lexie managed
to keep up with him, but the speed jarred her body. She couldn’t keep the grimace off her face.
“You’re still hurt,” Pierre stated.
Lexie touched her arm. The muscles were taut and bruised. “Obviously, and I haven’t really had time to recover. Now, why are we going to the theatre if your key isn’t there?”
“We need a lock to put the key in once we find it. The lock it fits into is a padlock—”
“You said the key operated the clock.”
“Yes, but it also unlocked the door leading to the clock tower. I had two locks made for the key. One is a padlock.”
“You want to get the padlock.”
“We have to have something the key will fit in.”
“That won’t be enough, though,” added Lexie. “We don’t have a theatre in Vernon Hills anymore.”
Pierre smiled slightly. “Actually, we might.”
“Really?” Lexie asked incredulously. “I know I haven’t been here long, but the only theatre I noticed in this town was the Stratford Theatre. Unfortunately, it’s no longer in operation!”
“I’d hardly call what I’m thinking about a theatre, but it is used for plays and musicals. The rendition of Romeo and Juliet I saw there was insulting. William Shakespeare probably cringed in his grave. Such mediocre acting and—”
“Where is this theatre?” interrupted Lexie.
“It’s the Vernon Hills High School auditorium.”
Lexie laughed. “No wonder you weren’t impressed with the performance. They were just high school students.”
Pierre rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It was like they tried to be that bad.”
“What function will the key serve?”
“My plan is to use the key to lock the doors leading to a room beneath the stage. That is where most of the equipment from the Stratford Theatre is being stored. The key might get lost if it’s used to lock the main doors to the auditorium. It will only be there temporarily.”
Lexie knew that construction on the new Stratford Theatre had not yet begun. It would take time to complete the theatre.
Pierre seemed to read her mind. “I plan to get it out of the school as soon as possible.”
“How? Are you moving?”
“My apartment is on the second floor of a building on Sutton Street. It’s similar to the one you and Flora share. The first floor used to be an antique shop, but it closed a few months ago when the owners moved out of town. It’s still up for rent. So, I’m going to rent it and turn it into a small theatre. It’ll be big enough for one act plays, improv, and poetry readings. It won’t be nearly big enough to function as a regular theatre. Maybe I can have a little bar. I’ll talk to Johnny Flesh and see if I can make an arrangement with him.”
“Bryony would happily agree to be your bartender!” Lexie was extremely impressed. “That’s a great idea! Maybe you can serve coffee from the Piazza Café during poetry readings!”
Pierre’s smile was genuine. “Thank you! After the Stratford Theatre is rebuilt, I’ll stop renting it.”
“You wouldn’t turn the place into something else?”
Pierre shook his head. “I belong with the theatre.”
“Come on! You have to have other interests.” Lexie pressed.
“I enjoy photography.”
“Then turn it into a gallery of your work,” suggested Lexie. “Maybe you could teach photography classes or something. I know I’d been interested—”
Lexie’s words died in her throat when they reached what remained of the Stratford Theatre. With wet, taupe stones piled high, the ruins looked like a dilapidated sandcastle. Dried mud caked the cracked clock and glass speckled the ground.
Cesare did this!
Hatred for the man rose in Lexie’s chest. She wanted to make him pay for what he had done to the theatre and all the people in Vernon Hills. It was his fault that so many people were dead. Hopefully, he would be convicted of murder, but, after seeing the remains of the theatre, Lexie wanted him to be punished for its destruction as well.
“I never expected this would happen!” Pierre choked.
Lexie crossed her arms and stayed silent. How was she supposed to respond? There were no words she could say to comfort the poor man.
“Well, say something!” wailed Pierre.
“I am very sorry for all the hardships you have suffered since this beautiful theatre was torn down.”
Lexie’s mouth dropped open when she whirled around to face the speaker. “Mr. Garland!”
Guillaume Garland stood calmly with his hands at his sides. Like his son, Guillaume was very tall with auburn hair. However, he had broader shoulders, expressive eyes that wavered between hazel and brown, and an auburn goatee. The aura that surrounded the man was aloof, but it lacked Cesare’s arrogance.
“Mr. Garland,” sputtered Pierre, “welcome to Vernon Hills. This is unexpected.”
“Really? I was told you tried to contact me numerous times. Please don’t think so little of me, Mr. Triste. I have much more tact than my son,” Mr. Garland said. “Hello, Lexie.”
Lexie smiled politely. “Hello, Mr. Garland.”
Mr. Garland clapped his hands. “So, Cesare ruined a landmark behind my back, and it happened to be a theatre. My, it seems like he’s doing everything to spite me these days. He agreed to finance the building of the new theatre, correct?”
Pierre nodded. “Yes, but I’m more concerned about a personal item that I never recovered. It’s an antique skeleton key with a reddish tint. A quill is engraved on it.”
Lexie cleared her throat. “I asked Cesare about the key. He said you asked him the same question.”
“I did, and Cesare was as conceited and snarky as ever.” Mr. Garland looked at Pierre. “Do not be alarmed, but I know all about your lineage, Mr. Triste. You are in a very unique position.”
Pierre twisted his hands. “How much do you know?”
“I know you are a descendant of William Shakespeare and own one of the cursed keys. I know the legend, and I assumed that you housed the key in the Stratford Theatre.”
“You are clever, sir,” complimented Pierre.
“I’m sorry my efforts to help failed,” Mr. Garland apologized.
Lexie’s eyes widened. “You’re trying to help? Have you been trying to help us all along?”
He nodded. “Of course. After Cesare tore down the Stratford Theatre, I asked him to find the key. He had no knowledge of its importance. I wanted him to give me the key so I could put it in Holy Trinity Church until the new theatre is completed.”
Pierre looked like a goldfish as his mouth bobbed open and closed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Truthfully,” began Mr. Garland, “I wasn’t sure you would want my help, particularly after the way Cesare treated you. Your calls made me realize that you do need my help.”
“People are still cursed,” interjected Lexie.
“That’s because I never got the key,” Mr. Garland explained. “I told Cesare to send it to me in London. You know what I received from him instead? He sent me a nasty letter and a keycard from a hotel.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “He’s an arrogant bastard!”
Pierre and Mr. Garland stared at her.
She was unabashed. “What? It’s the truth!”
Mr. Garland’s shrug indicated that he agreed. “Is he cursed? He’s made some odd comments recently.”
“Yes,” Pierre answered, “he’s Iago from Othello. He’s cursed because he tore down the theatre and removed my key. I believe he transformed into such a vile character because he took the key without my permission.”
“Iago sounds appropriate. Have you seen him since the curse?”
Pierre glanced at Lexie. Reluctantly, she gave Mr. Garland a recap of what had happened in town hall. She found it much easier giving her account without questions being thrown at her. Guillaume remained quiet as he listened.
“Does Cesare have the key?” Lexie asked at the end of her narrative.
“I assume so,” replied the elder Garland. “I can’t seem to find him anywhere. However, he should turn up soon if the police are searching for him.”
“How are we going to find Cesare?” Lexie muttered.
“You could bait him, Mr. Garland,” suggested Pierre. “Offer him power. Say you want to focus on Garland Corporation’s business abroad. Let him control what happens in America. As you know from the play, Iago isn’t one to turn away power.”
“Neither is Cesare,” Lexie deadpanned.
Mr. Garland thought for a moment. “Alright. We can give it a try. I’ll lure him to Vernon Hills since we are all here. I’ll make a deal with him. He gets the company in America if he gives me the key. I doubt he’ll ask many questions. However, I do have one. Where in Vernon Hills will you put the key to end the curse?”
“In the high school auditorium,” cringed Pierre. “Lexie and I came here to get the padlock the key fits in.”
Mr. Garland nodded. “You definitely have a plan. Now, where is the best place to stay in this charming town?”
“Midsummer’s Inn is the only place here. It is very nice and located on Avon Road next to the Rail View Restaurant,” Pierre answered.
“Very well,” he said with a sigh. “Once I get the key, I will contact the police. Then I will call you, Mr. Triste, so you and Lexie can stop the curse.”
“Ask to speak with Officer Reading,” Lexie added. “I gave my statement to her. She isn’t cursed.”
“Really?”
Lexie nodded. “She’s new. I don’t think she’s had time to change her residency with everything that’s happening in Vernon Hills.”
“Thank you very much.”
With that, Guillaume Garland turned and walked to his gold Impala. Pierre reached over and put a firm hand on Lexie’s uninjured shoulder. When the car vanished from view, Lexie looked at Pierre. Hope was written all over his gloomy features, making him appear at least ten years younger.
“This is almost over,” he whispered.
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