Soon, they were again on Karen Stone's lane and Sheski parked the vehicle facing the exit. They weren't expecting any trouble here, but you never knew. He pointed out Jess Walter's vehicle to Mike. It was parked behind the house.
"Probably so no one would know he spent the night here," Mike suggested. "As if you could keep anything from neighbors in any community."
Farmers were no different from anyone else. They kept an eye out for what was going on. In fact, they were usually better historians than most people, working outside and around their properties all day.
Karen and Jess met them at the door, immediately inquiring if there was anything new about her mother's killer. The two policemen assured them that they were busy on the case and that nothing solid had developed. Karen seemed relaxed. She was dressed in an expensively tailored English riding habit and explained that she had been out exercising her Tennessee Walker. She looked good in jodhpurs and knew it, Jess offered them freshly-brewed coffee while Karen excused herself to slip into something else.
The men made small talk and enjoyed the coffee while waiting for their hostess. Surprisingly, she was gone just a few minutes, and returned wearing blue jeans and a white vee-neck T-shirt and moccasins. She looked comfortable. Jess was wearing his usual khaki chinos and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. He, too, had moccasins on. They looked good together.
Sheski cast a glance at Karen's pinky finger where the miniature Darling Diamond had rested.
"It was lovely, wasn't it," she said softly, catching his look. "But I'm not sorry for what I did. I really feel better, as if a load has been lifted." She rubbed her hands together as if to dispel the cold.
"I don't think I ever saw anything quite so beautiful," Sheski replied.
"That's because you haven't seen the ring it was modeled after," she countered. "Mother positively adored that ring. She would never have parted with it. Wore it everywhere. It's not like she did any real work or anything, so it was always cared for."
"How much do you think it was worth?" Mike asked.
"I haven't any idea of its value but it would bring quite a sum. The thief will have a hard time unloading it, though, because the Darling Diamond is such a wellknown stone. It came into Father's possession with such provenance. Do you know the story behind it?"
Both men shook their heads.
"It was owned by my grandmother, Elizabeth Hastings Stone. She loved spending her money and buying things. Gramma Stone was familiar with all of the big city auctions and obtained the Darling Diamond at a private sale that Christie's held. When some personal effects of the actor Clark Gable were auctioned off by his pregnant widow, Gramma placed her successful bid by telephone" Karen laughed and said, "Father told me that Grampa Stone left her do whatever she wanted with her money. He adored her. Father always faulted Grampa for that. Thought that Grampa should have had charge of all the family income."
"Anyway," Karen went on. "Mr. Gable allegedly received the perfect square diamond from the Duke of Windsor during one of his visits to Great Britain. It was labeled the Darling Diamond because The Duke told everyone who ever saw it, in his delightful British accent, that it was `just darling.' Rumor has it that the Duchess wanted him to keep it for her, but it was one of the few times she didn't get her way. So, you see, it has quite a history behind it. Right before I was born, Father commissioned his New York jeweler to find a similar smaller one for me. He gave it to me on my tenth birthday."
"That's quite a story," said Sheski.
"There's more," Karen continued. "Father almost didn't get the Darling Diamond. Gramma Stone was planning a charitable foundation before her death. She was going to sell it and donate the proceeds, along with most of her estate to the foundation. After her death, Father decided not to go through with it and kept everything, including the diamond, for himself. Even though Mother wore it, Father never considered that diamond to be hers, you know. It was like he was just lending it to her to wear. He always told her that he wanted it back. She'd just laugh at him."
At this point Karen's voice started to crack and a tear trickled down her cheek. Her hands were trembling and she leaned on her fiance for support. Jess lovingly put his arm around her and pulled her close.
After a couple of minutes, she composed herself and said, "Jess called you here today because he wanted to talk to you about his whereabouts the day Mother was murdered" She looked up at her lover.
"First of all," Jess began, "Let me set something straight. I did not murder Karen's mother. She and I didn't have a good relationship because of my engagement to Karen, but I didn't want to harm her. Actually, I felt sorry for her. She had few, if any, real friends. You must know, by now, that she wielded her money and power like a laser, cutting down anyone who got in the way of her wants. I'm sure Karen won't mind my saying that's why Rose and her daughter couldn't get along"
Karen nodded her head in agreement.
"It's true that they gave in to Karen's demands for material things all her life," Jess said, "But she harangued Karen on everything from her friends to her choice of colleges. Karen wanted to go to Bucknell to be closer to home and her mother insisted she go to her own alma mater, Stanford. When Karen gave in and went to Stanford, her mother wanted her to major in business like she did, even though Karen's real interest was art. So, to keep peace, Karen majored in business at Stanford. No matter what she did, it was never enough. Rose had to control everything. After her graduation from Stanford, Karen opened her studio. Later, she took graduate courses in art at Bucknell. We share a love for watercolors and met to discuss her work. A relationship blossomed, and the rest is history. When we first met, Karen was guarded and insecure. As our love matured, so did Karen. She gained self-esteem and has changed a lot," he said, looking lovingly at her. "She's talented and makes a good living from her work. That gave her the independence she needed. Rose's threats of writing her out of her will held little interest for Karen. She knows she can make it on her own"
"What about the day of Rose's murder, Jess? Where were you?" Sheski asked.
"For most of the morning I was at my office grading papers. I was distracted, though, by Karen's estrangement from her parents and couldn't keep my mind on my work. After thinking about it for a while, I decided to leave the campus and go to Sweetriver. I arrived there about two P.M. I thought that if I talked to Rose, maybe I could make her understand my love for her daughter and how important it would be for them to reconcile, for everyone's sake. That's why Karen couldn't get me when she called my office. I wasn't there"
"Did you see anyone else around the property when you were there?" Mike asked.
`Barry Brown was in front of the house, trimming shrubbery. He looked up when I arrived but didn't wave or anything, just nodded his head slowly. I waved in return."
"Are you sure it was Barry, and not someone else?" Sheski inquired.
"I'm sure. I recognized him from his picture in the paper after his murder. It was Barry, all right."
"What happened next?"
"I rang the front doorbell and after about a minute, Rose answered it. She had the nerve to tell me to go around to the side door. I guess I wasn't good enough to come through the main entrance. I swallowed my pride and did it. We were in the kitchen, sitting down. She asked what I wanted. Said she wasn't going to give me anything so not to ask. I told her I didn't want anything, that I was there to implore her to reach out to Karen. I told her how important family was to me and that, for Karen's sake, I wanted to put the past behind us and make a new start" He frowned as he recalled Rose's reaction.
"She started to laugh at me. Said she wasn't interested in a relationship with her daughter unless I was out of her life. She even told me that she had hired a private detective to find out everything he could about me. She admitted to being real disappointed to find out I came from a respectable background"
Jess drank some of his coffee and then continued. "Both of my parents were tenured professors at Rutgers University, and financial
ly stable. I reassured her that I didn't want her money. I said I'd be willing to sign a prenuptial agreement, that I loved Karen and only wanted her, not her money. Rose laughed again. Said I was lying, that all men were interested in a woman's money. She said she knew that her husband married her only for her money, too. But she had a surprise coming for him. Rose admitted to planning on rewriting her will. She said that if her husband couldn't be faithful to her, and her daughter was going to marry someone like me, then she would take them both out of her will."
He shook his head back and forth as if unable to comprehend such reasoning, Karen looked pained at the recounting of her mother's behavior.
"Rose said her will would include the donation of all her money and possessions to the restoration of downtown Danville," Jess went on. "As long as they followed her strict instructions for spending it, it was theirs. Good old Rose. She would try to get her own way after her death, too"
Jess looked from the policemen to his fiancee. "I told Karen all about this before I called you. I didn't want her to be surprised."
"What happened then?" Mike asked.
"Well, I'd had enough. I told Rose that I felt sorry for her and didn't want to hear anymore. Before I closed the side door behind me, I turned to her and told her that if she changed her mind, just to give us a call. She picked something up and I barely got out the door before she threw it. Whatever it was, it made a loud crash. I could hear it outside."
"That must have been the figurine we found smashed on the floor," Mike said.
Sheski nodded his head in agreement. "What time was it when you left there?"
"About two-thirty. From there, I went back to my office and tried to work. However, as the afternoon went on, I started to feel ill. I was sweating and nauseated, so I stopped by Dr. Connors' office, got a prescription and went home and went to bed. That's why you couldn't get hold of me. After taking the medicine, I was knocked out for quite a while."
The lieutenants thanked Jess for his candor, informing the couple that they would probably have some further questions for them later.
Sheski and Mike got in their car and drove down the farm lane slowly. "I hope he's telling the whole story," Mike said to his partner. "It's obvious they love each other very much, and I don't think Karen could take the shock if Jess is our killer."
"I think you're right, but he does have a motive, and he can be placed at the scene of the crime." Sheski then added, "Call Sarah, Mike, and see if she can talk to us. It should be Dr. Stone's lunch hour about now. Maybe we can spend a little time with her. And call Debbie at the barracks and have her check out Jess's story about being ill and seeing Dr. Connors."
Mike made the calls from the car phone, which was now in working order. Sarah answered at Stone Haven on the third ring. "I was just saying good-bye to Dr. Stone. He has an appointment with Attorney Smithson about Rose's estate and will be gone most of the afternoon. Come on over. I have some time I can give you" She sounded pleased to be part of a clandestine investigation.
"We'll be right there," Mike told her.
After parking in Stone Haven's front lot near a sign marked Visitor, Sheski remarked to his partner, "Ever notice that we don't see any clients milling around here? Lana told me that it's because the ones in residence have back doors they can use and there are private points of ingress for the day clients. The rear driveway can be accessed for their convenience, too"
"Nice and private," Mike replied
"That's what they pay for."
They entered the double doors and walked over to Sarah's desk, smiling. She was having a lively conversation with Shannon Albright, and the men were sure it wasn't about the four major food groups. Both women turned toward the men and grinned.
"Are you here to see me or Lana?" Sarah teased. "Lana's not back to work yet," she said, suddenly seri ous. "But you probably already know that. I hope she's all right. We're worried about her."
Sheski grinned in return and said, "She's doing fine. We're here to see you, for now. Can we go somewhere and talk?" He was hoping she would suggest Dr. Stone's office again. She did.
Once inside the office, they made small talk and then Mike got to the point.
"We need some more information, Sarah. You've been a big help so far. I don't know how we can repay you"
She raised her eyebrows and said, "I'm sure we can think of something." Both men looked at her quizzically and she laughed. "Oh, don't worry," she said. "I'm just teasing. Actually, I hope I can be of some real help to you in solving these horrible murders. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I knew Barry Brown. He was a client of ours. He always looked so sad, but he wasn't a bad person, you know, just a poor guy who was mentally ill. He didn't deserve to end up like that. I can't say the same about Rose, though. Now, what can I do for you today?"
"I'd like to take a look at Pratt's journal first," Sheski stated matter-of-factly.
"That's a big order," Sarah said cautiously. "I think I can fill it, though"
She went to the top right drawer of Dr. Stone's desk, took a key off her own key ring, and carefully unlocked it. She then reached her manicured hand inside and produced another key. Smiling, Sarah dangled the small, brass key in front of the two men. "This should do it," she said proudly.
"Where'd you get the key to his desk?" Mike asked.
"Don't ask," Sarah replied. She then went over to the glass display case, opened it, and carefully took out the Pratt diary. The large leather-bound book looked fragile. Loose pages were sticking out from the volume.
"I hope you know what you're looking for," Sarah said, placing the delicate journal on top of the table. "Because I wouldn't know how to begin finding anything in that old thing."
"I think I do," was Sheski's reply.
Mike watched as his partner gently opened the diary. Sheski lightly turned the pages, scanning them as he went, being careful not to cause any damage.
"It's incredible. I feel like I'm going back in time," he said.
Indeed, the notations were so vivid that the reader felt as if he were present during the recorded events. Pratt was a skilled writer, detailing each day's activities, the color of the sky, the weather, all as vibrant as one of his oil paintings.
Sheski was in a hurry to find specific information, so he couldn't be wasting time today reading just for the pleasure of it. If Dr. Stone came back, they would have a lot of explaining to do. He skipped ahead to right before the painter died. Sheski had learned that Dr. Burns's mother was a patient at the same time as Pratt. She was in the psychiatric unit of the Danville Medical Hospital from February, 1934 until June of 1938. That was where Sheski began reading. Skimming over the pages, he finally found what he was looking for. He soon became immersed in the skillfully-told tale woven by a twisted demented mind.
Not fully trusting Sarah to keep important information private, Sheski gestured for Mike to come read silently along with him. In flamboyant black script was an accounting of Pratt's joyous news of November 12,1937. It began.
Today is the happiest day of my life. My beloved Becky has given birth to our son. She came through the ordeal without any difficulty, despite being attended by just that midwife Anna. The old harpy wouldn't let me in the room with my love while she labored. Said it wasn't decent. She may end up having to pay for that. After Becky doesn't need her anymore. The little one is already sucking and looking around at the world. Maybe he will be a painter like his father. Oh, I hope he will be kind and sweet like my Becky. I was permitted to see our son when Anna went home for the evening. He has my love's beautiful violet eyes and the distinguishing Pratt mark. I only regret that I am no longer a young man. This child may have to grow up without knowing me. Today, I will finish the self-portrait that I have been working on so he will have something to look upon and know who his Papa was.
November 14, 1937. He is a beautiful baby boy. Somewhat small as I am but perfectly formed. I can't stop staring at him. My Becky is recovering well despite the neglectful care sh
e receives at the hands of her attendants. If I live long enough, they will get their payback for that. We don't know what to do about raising this child. As I am writing this, the doctors are writing orders for his adoption. Shameful. I can teach him what he needs to know about getting along in this world. I am feeling weaker each day and fear what will happen to him and his mother once I am gone. My needs are unfulfilled these past weeks because of Becky's condition. Although I am feeling unwell, I still desire my favorite pastime. I am considering other ways of fulfilling my desires. Painting is all I have now.
The two lieutenants looked at each other, acknowledging that what they'd thought was true was fact. Sheski handed Sarah the journal and indicated he wanted her to put it back in its case. Sarah placed the journal in the same spot from which she had removed it, next to one of the monogrammed feeding cups. She cautiously replaced the brass key in the rosewood desk and locked the drawer.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked expectantly.
Sheski assured her that he had. He added there was one final favor to ask of her.
"Sarah, we can't stay long, but we need to know where Dr. Stone was on the night Lana was attacked"
"You don't think he was part of that, do you?" she asked surprised.
"I don't know," Sheski answered, "but I have to check it out."
"Come on back to my desk, and I'll check his schedule."
Sheski and Mike were relieved to find themselves out of the psychiatrist's office. They felt vulnerable when they were there.
Sarah, puzzled expression on her face, replied, "Both Drs. Stone and Burns were here that night. I remember it now because it was the day of Rose's burial. I couldn't believe it when he called me in to do some work. He had a new computer program he wanted us to install. He made a big production out of it, but we finally got it accomplished. You wouldn't think that a newly-widowed husband would want to be working, but Dr. Stone insisted."
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