“You must have suspected Jason,” I said.
“There were a lot of suspects,” Jeff said. “He was on the list. But you homed in on him. Why?”
“A combination of things. I’d been trying to remember if he was carrying his bike lock when he left on Saturday. I remembered his wheel. Then I remembered him carrying his water bottle when Caroline and Nancy almost mixed their bottles up tonight. But he had a different bottle on his bike. So what if the bottle he had on Saturday wasn’t his bottle?”
“How did you decide the drops were the culprit?” Jeff said. “This was a fairly complicated plot. I’m not sure we would have made the connection.”
“I’m sure you would have,” I said. “It wasn’t only the drops. It was the knowledge that went with the drops. When you are trying to cure an ailment, you tell the person helping you a lot of information. It is pretty intimate knowledge, when you think about it.”
“After she and Beckett had a falling-out, Kim really confided in Jason,” Jeff said. “She trusted him with her health, and he gave her magic tonics to cure her ills. How did you guess that he was setting her up to die?”
“I remembered you said that Kim had a lot of health food drinks and elixirs in her house and in her office. Jason’s printouts told me to watch taking certain allergy drugs if I had thyroid issues, or high blood pressure. All of a sudden I wondered, what if this was more of a long-term plan? Then Caroline and Flo got their water bottles mixed up, and it all became clear to me.”
“But you must have focused on Jason earlier than that,” Jeff said.
“He was acting weird at the Town Hall, for sure. But it didn’t all come together until I tasted the grapefruit cookie.”
“That’s a pretty terrible way to think,” Ben said. “Cookies and water help you solve a murder?”
“Ruth puts pieces of a puzzle together in a unique way,” Jeff said. “She doesn’t try and fit the pieces together the way they work best for us. She fits them together the way they need to go.”
“What does that mean?” Ben said.
“How about if I use a clock metaphor? We were all looking at these pieces of evidence and thinking we were looking at a grandfather clock. Ruth saw them and realized they worked in a clock tower. They may have looked the same, but the scale was different. We were all focused on Orchard, and the motives here. But Ruth pieced together information about Kim’s life and realized that the picture was a lot bigger. Still not sure how she narrowed it down to Jason though.”
“I saw the pain in his eyes when he talked about his sister,” I said. “That came from real love, and loss. I’ve thought about how far someone might go to avenge a loved one, probably because I’ve been thinking about my grandfather so much lately.”
“You wouldn’t kill anyone to avenge him,” Jeff said with a certainty that warmed my heart.
“I wouldn’t, no. My way of remembering him, and letting him live on in my heart, is working on the clock tower. I do think that, and this shop, and other things”—I grabbed Ben’s hand and gave it a squeeze—“have helped hate from taking up residence in my heart. But what would have happened if I hadn’t had the Cog & Sprocket, or all of you? I hate to think.”
“You hate to think?” Ben said, his eyebrows raised. “What would have happened to all of us? You’ve healed this town, Ruth.”
“I second that,” Jeff said. “I’m in charge of law and order, but you’ve been helping me with real justice. I’m glad you’re here.”
I leaned over and gave Jeff a peck on the cheek. “We make a good team,” I said.
“That’s enough of that,” Jeff said. “And don’t get any ideas about becoming a citizen crime solver.”
“What, me? Never,” I said.
Jeff looked over at the wall. “The banjo clocks are gone.”
“Ruth sold them to a collector from Boston this afternoon. Lila Blood-something-or-other,” Ben said.
“She is an alum from the school where my ex-husband works. She tracked me down after she saw some of the clocks I’d left in the house,” I said.
“Apparently a few of the students told her stories about Ruth’s work. They spoke so highly of her, she wanted to meet her in person,” Ben said. “Her ex hadn’t told Mrs. Blood-whatever that his ex-wife was a clockmaker.”
“Her name is Lila. Eric never would have referred to me as a clockmaker,” I said. “Not nearly pretentious enough. He would have called me a horologist.” I smiled and played a bit with my food. When I thought about how much happier I was this June than last? I looked up at Jeff to tell him the rest of the story. “They’re doing some renovations to the house where my ex is still housemaster. At his suggestion, they’re thinking about putting the clocks in permanent storage. Lila wanted to buy them, and my ex was willing to sell them to her. But then the dean cleared up the ownership. So she came to see me.”
“Test you first, more like it.”
“She didn’t know about his offer to me,” I said. “She loves clocks and wanted to see if I was the real deal. After a few conversations with my ex, she realized he wasn’t a great lover of horology.”
“You were pretty elegant at describing your ex and his offer,” Ben said. “You could have made his life pretty miserable. Though it sounds like your ex-husband has some juice at the school.”
“I’m sure he does,” I said. “Eric never lacked ambition. I appreciate her coming out here to talk to me.”
“Put it this way, Jeff. Ruth’s got a new fan. She agreed to loan Lila the clocks for her corporate offices and to go to Boston to help supervise the move.”
“She made a nice contribution to the project, which will go to the new bell. She also bought both the banjo clocks. A good day overall.”
“Not for your ex-husband,” Ben said. “He missed out on a nice paycheck. Wasn’t he setting himself up for half the proceeds if you sold them to her?”
“He was. Might have even had a case. Which is why I loaned them to her for a dollar.”
“Well, I for one am glad to see that you aren’t perfect, Ruth,” Jeff said. “You are capable of spite. I’m relieved, frankly. Perfect people make me nervous.”
“My lack of perfection is robust,” I said, laughing.
“Not from where I sit,” Ben said, kissing my hand and then grabbing the bowl of salad. “Try this corn salad, Jeff. New recipe I’m trying out, inspired by a conversation with your mother. Pretty good, if I do say so myself, but it’s missing something.”
chapter 28
“This is ridiculous,” Pat said for the tenth time in as many minutes. “The scaffolding is being delivered in a few minutes. We don’t have time for this.”
“Indulge me, Pat. Please,” I said.
He walked around the perimeter of the Town Hall and pointed the fans up toward the ceiling, hoping to get more air circulating. A team of volunteers had arrived at seven o’clock Wednesday morning to help get the Town Hall cleaned up. Harris University also sent over some staff and had a couple of Dumpsters delivered. We’d been talking about doing this later in the summer, but today was so full of energy and forward momentum, we just couldn’t wait. Old carpets were torn up, revealing more slate floors. Broken furniture was tossed, as were the piles of junk that had been accumulating, waiting for this moment. Walls and floors were washed. Zane spent time walking folks through techniques for covering scratches with the stain he had made. All the wood was getting the Pat treatment of oil and TLC.
By five o’clock the entire building had been refreshed. Nothing hadn’t been cleaned. Finally, we were ready for the last step. Nadia called all the volunteers into a circle in the middle of the Town Hall.
“I can’t believe you are willing to go along with this,” Pat said to Zane. Though different in so many ways, the two men were bound by a love of all things clocks. They were both filthy after a day of cleaning, staining, and
polishing. But where Pat looked aggravated, Zane looked at peace.
“I think it is a terrific idea. Something had to be done, don’t you think?”
Nadia stepped into the middle of the circle of people and held up a green bundle tied with red string. “My grandmother passed on a lot of knowledge to me. I wish she was here in person to do this, but she couldn’t get here physically. So she’s here virtually. Here, Ruth, can you hold my grandmother?” Nadia handed me her phone, and I smiled and said hello before turning her so she could watch her granddaughter.
“There is an ancient practice called smudging. It requires burning something. We’re using sage, and using the smoke to cleanse a space. There are steps we take, and things we say, as part of this ritual. But before I begin, I want to talk about why this is important.
“This old building has seen a lot,” Nadia said. “Today, all of you took the time to clean her up so she can meet the next chapter in her history looking her best. In a couple of weeks, we’re going to be setting the clock tower, winding her up, and letting her watch over us for the rest of our lives. Seriously, Ruth said these clocks can last a hundred years if they are maintained. And you know that a Clagan living across the street means that this baby will be maintained.”
Everyone laughed, and I felt myself blush. “Last weekend, some terrible things happened here,” Nadia continued, and everyone stopped laughing at once. “So the space needs to be cleansed. If you don’t want to participate, you don’t have to. But I hope that you all do. We need your good vibes to help release the sadness this space holds, and to bring in the light.”
Nadia looked around, but no one left the circle. “Let’s begin,” she said, lighting the bundle of sage.
“Let’s begin,” I agreed.
• • •
“That was really wonderful,” Moira said a little while later. We were sitting on the floor of the Town Hall, sipping the wine that Nancy had brought out after the ceremony. Flo and Caroline brought in trays of fruit, cheese, and finger sandwiches. Zane and Pat helped set up the tables. It was a lot like last Saturday’s Signing Ceremony, with many of the same people. But where last weekend had started off as joyous, today had a somber tone. Peaceful because of the resolution but somber.
“It was exactly what was needed,” I agreed.
“Are you going to be able to pull the installation off? You’ve only got two weeks until—”
“Don’t remind me! Yes, I can pull it off, but not alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Moira said. “If nothing else, I’ll keep you fed.”
“That’s not nothing. An army runs on its stomach. Or something like that.”
“Ruth’s Army? Nah. The Clagan Corps. I like the sound of that.”
“You like the sound of what?” Nancy asked her daughter. She had brought over a folding chair in one hand, a bottle of wine under her arm, and a plate of food in her other hand. I took the food, and Moira grabbed the wine so that Nancy could set up the chair. “I don’t know how you girls can sit on that cold floor like that.”
“Yoga and youth,” Moira said. “I thought you had a Board of Selectmen meeting tonight?”
“We do. We’re going to meet here, in one of the rooms in the back.”
“Should you be drinking?”
“Please. I’m saving two bottles for the meeting. We need to decide on an interim town manager.”
“Interim?” I asked.
“We’re going to need to post the job. But we’d like to get someone in place who can help us get things settled. Or at least put a brave face on it, and put out fires. Kim left a real mess.”
“Are you going to offer it to Beckett?” Moira asked. “He obviously wants it.”
“We’ve got someone else in mind. Never you mind who. You’ll find out soon enough. Now, where’s that handsome boyfriend of yours, Moira?”
“Not sure I’d call him a boyfriend, especially after this past week. He’s arrested both my parents in the past year. How am I supposed to make that okay?”
“By knowing he was doing his job,” Nancy said, firmly placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I would have brought me in for questioning too.”
“Mum—”
“Don’t ‘Mum’ me. Here he comes now. Go get a chair for his mother, and bring it over here. Looks like she brought a plate of patties, bless her. I’d never had Jamaican patties before. The meat ones are my favorite. You have to try them, Moira, they’re delicious. They’d be perfect to sell at the Sleeping Latte. Now, go grab a plate, get some food, and take Jeff somewhere quiet to talk.”
Moira didn’t move, so I nudged her with my elbow. “Go. He’s a good guy,” I said.
Moira looked over toward Jeff. He was helping his mother set up her trays of food and laughing as Ben took a bite out of a patty, put his hand on his heart, and pretended to swoon. Jeff leaned down and gave his mother a kiss on her cheek.
“That he is,” Moira said, getting up.
chapter 29
“You ready?” Ben said.
“I am, though I’d rather be up in the tower,” I said.
“Of course you’d rather be up there. But you’re going to be down here, so get used to it. Come on, it’s a quarter of. Time to speechify.”
June 21. The big day had finally arrived. In some ways, time had crept towards this day, which I’d been dreaming of for so long. In other ways, it had flown by in a flurry of details that I kept trying to keep track of, like feathers flying from a pillow with a small hole. But finally, we were going to set and wind the clock. Ben and I both stepped up onto the platform that we’d set up on one end of Washington Street. Traffic had to be rerouted for a few hours, but what little traffic there was were people looking for a parking place. Since eleven, people had been walking around Orchard visiting the shops, getting ready for the big show that was set for noon. At five after eleven Zane, Pat, and I had made a great show of climbing up to the tower and winding the clock. Nadia followed us, along with two interns from Harris University who were documenting the event as part of a summer school project. Other interns were peppered throughout the crowd, getting ready to record and social media the entire day. I still couldn’t believe that there was enough interest to livestream it, but Nadia did. I hoped she got my best side. Winding a clock in a hot tower wasn’t a pretty business. There were a couple of screens downstairs, and it had been disconcerting as the crowd began to chant when we got closer to one hundred turns on the winding crank. We knew that would get us through only two days, since it required fifty revolutions a day to keep running, but today was all about the show.
When I came down, Flo was waiting for me. She fixed my makeup and my hair before she let me go outside again.
“Thank you, Flo,” I said. “You are a miracle worker with this mop of mine.” I leaned over and gave her a hug.
“You are a beauty, Ruth Clagan. You’re the image of your grandmother, you know that? She’d be so proud of you. We all know that Thom’s genes made you love clocks. But Mae passed on her generous spirit. Having you here, I miss her a lot less.”
I wiped a tear from my eye.
“Now, none of that,” Flo said. “You have speeches to make. Let me fix your mascara. Here you go.” She turned me around and pushed me out the side door of the Town Hall.
The crowds were out front, as was the platform. First things first, though. I looked up at the clock and pulled out my cell to check the time. Whew. So far, so good. We’d had several test runs over the past week, adjusting the pendulum as needed so it would keep good time. I had no doubt that we’d continue to do that for months, but for today, I wished for accuracy till noon. Zane and Pat had gone down to the level below the clock itself. In a few months the mechanisms down there would be connected to the clock mechanism, but for today Pat and Zane were going to manually run the figures out so they could take a bow. Zane hadn’t
let me look at the final figures, insisting that I should have some surprises. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing how the figure of Beckett came out. I hoped he hadn’t insisted on a Been There, Read That T-shirt as part of his figure. I so didn’t want my clock to be an advertisement.
“It’s showtime,” Nadia said, coming around the corner and grabbing my hand. I took a step up on the platform. Ben winked at me and stepped forward, tapping the microphone.
“Good morning,” he said. A few people mumbled a greeting. “Let’s try that again. Good morning!” Now the response was loud and followed by applause.
“I don’t want to take too much time, but I wanted to welcome you all to Orchard! My name is Ben Clover, and I am the acting town manager for this fabulous town. We know there’s a lot going on in the Berkshires, and we appreciate you taking a trip here on this lovely Saturday morning as we welcome in a new chapter in the history of Orchard. We have several members of the Board of Selectmen here, and I’d like to ask them to wave when I say their names. Harriet Wimsey, Nancy Reed, Jimmy Murphy, and Beckett Green, thank you all for your service and leadership to the town.” A hearty round of applause followed.
“Now, I’d like to introduce Ruth Clagan. The Clagan family is one of the oldest in Orchard. They’ve been running the Cog & Sprocket for over a hundred years. Ruth’s grandfather, the late and greatly missed Thomas Clagan, had a dream that the clock tower would get rebuilt. His granddaughter, Ruth, came to Orchard last fall after he died to take over his shop and to make his dream a reality. She’s the best thing that’s happened to this town in a long time. Here’s Ruth Clagan herself to let us know what is going to happen today.”
Ben stepped aside, and I walked up to the microphone. There were people as far as the eye could see. My heart pounded in my chest. The crowds alone didn’t make me nervous. I looked down at my cell phone. Five minutes to go.
“Friends, I echo Ben in thanking you for being here. On behalf of my family, Caroline and Levi right over there.” Caroline was so glad her son could be there, she was beaming as she looped her arm through his. They both waved, and the crowd cheered. “In memory of my grandparents, Mae and Thom, and their friend Grover Winter, who shared the dream of rebuilding this clock, we’re thrilled that in less than three minutes the bell in the clock tower will chime for the first time in over sixty years.”
Chime and Punishment Page 25