Dream of Orchids

by Phyllis A. Whitney

  “When we were on Derek’s yacht, you were up near the top deckhouse, so you must have had an overall view. What did you see? I mean, is there anything you haven’t told the police?”

  She seemed relieved at my change of course. “Nothing that matters, really. There was so much confusion, and those men had their faces covered. There was only one I caught a glimpse of, and I’m not sure about him.”

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “You remember that day we met in Mallory Square? When we left, Derek was having breakfast across the street. A big, rough-looking man was with him, and they seemed to be quarreling.”

  “I remember,” I said. “I saw the same man again when Marcus took Fern and me to the pier for Sunset. Eddie came running to Marcus, terrified because this fellow was chasing him. And I think I saw him on the boat too. I haven’t told anyone, because all I got was a quick impression, and I couldn’t be entirely sure.”

  “He’s the same one,” Alida said.

  “Have you mentioned this to Derek?”

  “I don’t speak to Derek at all, if I can avoid it.”

  She’d never liked Derek, but this seemed extreme. Something had happened on the island to bring her dislike of him into the open. However, she was willing to tell me nothing more right now.

  “I’ll see if I can find Fern,” I said, and left her sitting forlornly in the red chair. As I started down the room I turned back as something else occurred to me.

  “What about my father’s last manuscript, Alida? How far along did he get with it?”

  “It was nearly finished.”

  “Do you know how he meant to end it?”

  “He made some special notes about that, and I have them in my desk.”

  “Then perhaps you should finish typing the manuscript, so you can send it to his publisher. If you include his notes about the last chapters, maybe they can find someone to finish it.”

  She seemed to think about this, and her expression lightened. “His work shouldn’t be wasted. But with Fern not caring, and Iris concerned with—other matters, I felt I had no authority.”

  “Please work on it,” I said. “You’re the only one who can. And, after all, Cliff left his books to me, so I have the right to ask you to do this.”

  “All right—I’ll do it. This is the one thing left that I can do for him.”

  For years back, the guiding light in Alida’s life had been Cliff. It might not be wise to trust her on anything else, but on this one thing she would be dependable.

  “Thank you,” I said. “We’ll talk again.”

  “Then you’re really not leaving?”

  “At least not right away.”

  As I went downstairs with Cliff’s letters in my hand, a new vigor seemed to flow through me, recharging and energizing me. I wouldn’t let Cliff down, and I wouldn’t let myself down. Now I could move with purpose and a new determination. As soon as I’d unpacked, I’d look for Fern and see what I might accomplish.

  I didn’t need to look far, for the door of my room stood open, and Fern was once more sitting on my bed. She had rehung the two remaining orchid photographs, so there was no space between them, and was regarding them with satisfaction. When she heard me at the door, she turned with a faltering smile.

  “I’m sorry, Laurel. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did.”

  I felt a little wary over her about-face. She could change too quickly to be trusted. “It’s all right,” I said, and put Cliff’s letters away in a drawer.

  I couldn’t look at the orchid photos without remembering the dream I’d had on the island. Fern, however, didn’t seem to notice my avoidance of them.

  “They belong there, don’t they, Laurel?” she said. “So I put them back, since this was Poppy’s room and you’ll be gone soon. You won’t care.” She nodded toward the open suitcases on my bed.

  So this was why she’d relented toward me.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I’m going to stay for a while, at least. Because Cliff wants me to stay.”

  She stared at me, wide-eyed, and I explained matter-of-factly about the journal I’d found in Cliff’s desk. She heard me out, accepting what I told her more easily than Alida had.

  “That’s wonderful! I wish he would speak to me in some way.”

  “Perhaps he’s speaking through me. I think he’d really like you to go ahead with the orchid display you were planning for the Garden Club. It’s something only you can do properly.”

  “Do you think I could? I’ve missed my orchids, but Iris said I had no right to them any more.”

  “That’s foolish. You’re the one who has the most right, and if you don’t do something they’ll all die. When is this display supposed to be ready?”

  “A lot too soon. Day after tomorrow. But I can never be ready in time, and Iris won’t help. All she worries about right now is Derek. She’s so foolish to trust him.”

  I asked my question quickly. “Why have you changed your feelings about Derek?”

  “He’s a dreadful person! I know that now.” She huddled on the bed, pulling up her knees and drawing the woodsy green of her dress around her.

  “I thought you were fond of him?”

  Her look of anguish was so acute that I couldn’t press her any further. Something had disillusioned her about Derek, and I could only be thankful.

  “Perhaps I could help you get the orchids ready, if you’ll show me what to do.”

  She came out of her huddle and got off the bed. “All right! If you’ll help, then let’s go!”

  I wished I could put aside my own feelings as quickly as Fern seemed able to do. At least the new surge of energy that I’d felt continued high. There was some purpose to my life now and immediate tasks to accomplish, even though the eventual goal still wasn’t clear. If I tried to help Fern, then somewhere in the fog ahead might lie the answer to my father’s death. It wasn’t possible for me to leave Key West until I knew why it had happened, and if I kept moving, perhaps the mists would clear. Whatever it was that still lay hidden, I had to know. I owed him that.

  I followed Fern down the back stairs. I mustn’t think of the word my father had used for the orchids—murderous. That was his illusion. The flowers themselves were beautiful and innocent, and they’d had nothing to do with Poppy’s death.

  13

  When we reached the back garden we heard sounds from inside the orchid house, and Fern ran to the door and pulled it open. I was close behind her.

  Iris and Derek stood at the far end of the central aisle, and I saw in dismay that Iris was deliberately uprooting orchid plants and dumping one after another into a large trash container. Derek appeared to be watching with open satisfaction.

  Fern flew down the aisle and hurled herself upon her sister. “Iris! What are you doing? Those are our best vandas you’re destroying!”

  Iris shook her off and picked up another plant. Derek, clearly enjoying himself, reached for Fern and held her, imprisoning her arms. Though she squirmed and struggled, he held her in his grip until she went suddenly limp and began to weep bitterly.

  No one noticed me near the door until I walked toward them. “Let her alone!” I told Derek.

  He glanced at me in surprise, and Fern wriggled free, to dart off a little way to safety.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked Iris.

  She picked up another plant as though she hadn’t heard me, pulled it raggedly from its pot, and threw the bright bloom into the trash with the others. Fern cried out as though she felt the outrage along her own nerves.

  Showing no emotion, her expression blank, Iris picked up the next pot. I took it out of her hands and replaced it on the shelf.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing,” I said, “but it’s got to stop. Maybe we can go somewhere else and talk, and you can tell me what this is all about.”

  Iris looked at me directly for the first time, and I saw the bleakness in her eyes as she tried to pull herself together and answer
me.

  “You can’t come into this house and take over what belongs to Fern and me!” she cried. “You’ve no right, no matter what Cliff’s will says. You probably wangled that yourself. Derek is with me on this, and I mean to see that there won’t be an orchid left by the time you get your—legacy.”

  Somehow I managed to speak quietly. “There are laws against destroying property that belongs to other people. This orchid house isn’t yours any more.”

  Derek laughed. “You’re going to turn your sister in—have her arrested?”

  “Not if she stops what she’s doing. Fern, can these orchids be saved?”

  Fern came closer, keeping a wary eye on Derek, and leaned over the edge of the trash container. One by one, she began fishing out orchids, to examine them. Some of the petals were bruised, but the roots seemed intact, and she went to work repotting them, her movements feverish, as though she raced against time to save their lives.

  “You could help her,” I said to Iris. “Fern says the orchid display at the Garden Club is coming up soon, and she wants to put on an exhibit in Cliff’s name and Poppy’s honor.”

  Iris threw an agonized look at Derek, who had stopped looking idly amused. He spoke to me directly.

  “Iris is right. I’ve told her she should do this. There’s no sense in leaving these plants for you to take over. Cliff must have been losing his marbles to change his will the way he did. If you think you’re going to stay on, you’ll have a fight on your hands, and I don’t think you’ve got the stomach for it.”

  I wouldn’t let him blow me down. “I don’t think destroying everything Iris and Fern have created is going to help anything.”

  “Tell her, Iris,” Derek said.

  Iris had paused with an orchid pot in her hands, looking at me strangely.

  “Go ahead, Iris. Tell her,” Derek repeated.

  Her hands were shaking, and Fern reached to take the pot from her.

  “I’ve invited Derek to move into the house,” Iris said. “There’s been no one to take charge since Cliff died, and he will know how to manage everything.”

  Fern looked her outrage. “You can’t do that! It’s my house, and I don’t want him here. Laurel, tell him he can’t stay!”

  There was nothing I could say. In one stroke Iris had handed over the reins. She would marry Derek, and he would have every right to stay in the house if he liked. Fern’s futile objections would never stop him, no matter who owned the house.

  “What I’d like to know,” Derek said, “is what you’ve got against me, Fern. We used to get along fine.”

  Fern wiped grimy hands across her cheeks, leaving smears of earth, and her eyes snapped into angry life as she stared at him. “I think you probably caused my father’s death! I think maybe you planned it all along. You wanted to hurt him!”

  “Fern!” Iris protested. “You know how Cliff died. He could have had a heart attack any time. What happened on the Aurora brought it on. You can’t blame Derek.”

  “I do blame him—for everything!” Her voice was rising in near hysteria. “I’ll always blame him. What has happened to those men on the ship? They’re probably dead by now. What’s happened to the Aurora?”

  Derek’s grin had a steely edge. “As a matter of fact, the Aurora returned to port late last night. I was aboard her until a little while ago.”

  We all stared at him.

  “You didn’t tell me.” Iris seemed to come out of her daze.

  “Why should I trouble you about all that unpleasantness? You’ve got enough on your hands here. Only three of the men came back with her.”

  “Was Eddie Burch with them?” Iris asked.

  “No. Some of the men were dumped off on various islands. It may be a while before they can even get in touch. The pirates left in another boat that was waiting for them, and they took all the gold with them. That’s all I know right now.”

  Fern turned her back, as though nothing he was saying mattered. “Iris, I want to do this orchid display, and I can’t do it alone. This is for Poppy. You know it’s for Poppy.”

  Derek had clearly lost interest in what must have seemed a minor skirmish. “Do as you please, Iris. I’ve got a lot to attend to now. Tonight I’ll bring my things over from the island, if you’ll get a room ready.” He kissed her lightly and went off.

  For a moment Iris looked after him with something less than affection, and I wondered if Derek would manage in his insensitive way to set Iris free of him, as he’d done Fern.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Fern. “I’ll help with the display.”

  They went to work together. Perhaps they’d move in some positive direction and stop fighting each other now. This was what Cliff had wanted.

  Angela came to the door just then. “Miss Laurel? There’s a phone call for you.”

  When I went into the hallway and picked up the phone, I heard Marcus’s voice. “Laurel? Can you find Alida and come over to my place right away?”

  I stared at the phone. He hadn’t mentioned my plans or the plane I’d meant to take today.

  “Laurel? Are you there? Get hold of Alida right now and bring her over here. Don’t waste any time. I’ll see you.”

  As usual he was gone before I could argue or ask questions. He was simply taking it for granted that in spite of what I’d told him, I wasn’t going to leave. He’d been as sure of me as that! However, there’d been an urgency in his voice that I couldn’t ignore. I went upstairs and found Alida working on Cliff’s manuscript.

  “Something’s happened,” I told her. “Marcus wants us to come over to his place right away. He didn’t say why.”

  Alida turned off her word processor, took her handbag from a drawer, and stood up. She was ready to come without question, confident of Marcus.

  As we walked the few blocks, I told her what had happened in the orchid house and that Fern would now go ahead with her plans for the display—with Iris’s help. I also told her that Derek was moving into the house.

  She missed a step, almost tripped, and took hold of my arm. “That’s dreadful! That means he’s really going to marry Iris. He’ll expect her money to rescue him, and somehow he’s got to be stopped.”

  We’d reached the big white house with its fantasy of turrets and towers, and we went up the steps together. There was no one about as we climbed the inside stairs. When I knocked on Marcus’s door, he opened it, looking relieved when he saw Alida.

  “I’d meant to leave for New York this morning,” I reminded him.

  “Of course you wouldn’t leave while everything was up in the air,” he said curtly. “Come in, both of you.”

  His calm assumption left me wondering about me, as I followed Alida into the room. When Marcus had closed the door behind us, I heard a sound from the kitchen area, and Eddie Burch came out looking shaky and uncertain—much the worse for wear.

  Marcus eased him into a chair and put a cup of coffee in his hands. If Eddie had been thin before, now he looked scrawny in his khaki shorts and torn shirt, with stubble growing across his chin and his eyes watery with fear.

  Alida pulled over a chair and sat down beside him. “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  After a gulp of coffee, Eddie began to talk. “They threw me overboard after they got rid of the rest of you in the dinghy. They meant me to drown, but one of Derek’s crew managed to drop a life preserver into the water. I guess it was dark enough so nobody saw when I swam to it and hung on.” He took another swallow of coffee while we waited.

  I glanced at Marcus, whose bright hair seemed more on end than ever. Perhaps I should have gone North while I had the chance, but somehow Marcus had known that I wouldn’t leave.

  He was watching me, his mouth pinched into a half smile. Already, he knew me too well.

  Having finished the coffee, Eddie went on. “There isn’t much more to tell. I don’t know how long I was in the water when a boat came by and picked me up. She was bound for Dominica, and they put me ashore in the Marquesas.
I let everybody think I was still out of my head, and I didn’t tell them anything. I was too scared. When I could, I hopped a boat for Key West and came straight here.”

  Marcus spoke to me. “As I’ve mentioned, we’re pretty sure Derek has a drug smuggling operation going on up the keys. Eddie’s been picking up information that may help to blow the whole thing.”

  “You’ll need to act quickly,” Alida said. “Derek’s moving into Cliff’s house. That means he’ll marry Iris as soon as he can, and she will do whatever he wishes.”

  Marcus looked grimmer than ever. “We haven’t got enough to act on yet. I don’t know how speedy we can be.”

  “If Derek catches on to what you’re doing, your life won’t be worth much,” Eddie said. “Any more than mine is.” He put his empty cup aside and stared at me. “Somebody pushed your father into the water. I saw it happen.”

  Alida moaned softly, but I didn’t look at her. This was what I’d feared. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Tell me who it was.”

  He hesitated, staring at the floor. “I saw it happen, but I couldn’t see who pushed him. When those fellows started to board, I rushed down to the cabin to tell Derek. Then everybody came out on deck, and there was a lot of confusion and noise. By that time I didn’t know where anybody else was. All I wanted was to ease out of sight. I saw Cliff’s white suit plain enough at the rail, and somebody else was with him. I saw him go over. But that’s when somebody grabbed me, and I went into the water on the other side.”

  “Cliff died of a heart attack,” Marcus told Eddie. “He didn’t drown. So no matter whether he was pushed or not, he was dead before he hit the water.”

  “Just the same, I think somebody tried to kill him,” Eddie said.

  Alida had listened in silence. She looked so stricken that my attention was caught.

  “Do you know who was with Cliff?” I asked her urgently.

  She shook her head. “It was never meant to happen! It was all a mistake—a terrible mistake!”

  “What haven’t you told us?” I demanded. “Where were you when this happened?”

  She made an effort. “You know where I was. I was on the top deck, and I could only see down into the stern. I couldn’t possibly see what happened up forward. I’m only guessing.”