“But he ran away.”
“His wife went into labor early. He was at the hospital all night. They have a new baby boy,” Ross explained.
“So we’re back to square one,” Gemma said.
“That’s the detective business, baby,” Ross finished his lunch as well and gathered up their trash.
“What will you do now?” Gemma asked.
“Now, I call CID and tell them everything I know. Then I lay everything out in front of me again and go back over everything I know again,” he told her. “I might have some new lead by the time they get here this afternoon.”
“This is so disappointing,” Gemma hated the whiny sound in her voice. “I thought I had it all figured out.”
“I know. That’s why you need to leave the detective work to me,” he said, pulling her close. “I’m used to being disappointed.”
“I will,” Gemma promised, her voice muffled as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. “I’m handing in my deputy badge. No more sleuthing for me.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Ross said.
Chapter Thirteen
Back in the convention hall, Mitch and Holly worked side by side at their booth, and Gemma couldn’t help but think that they made such a good team. Their marriage was going to be rock solid from beginning to end. She could feel it. They were going to be wonderful parents to beautiful children. She could admit that she was just a little jealous, but mostly she was so happy for her best friend.
“Do you want me to take over for a while?” Gemma asked.
“Hey, cutie,” Mitch said in greeting, put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” Holly said.
“Then, scoot. You two enjoy your lunch,” Gemma said, offering a smile.
Holly put her purse over her shoulder and then stopped so abruptly that Mitch ran into her. “Are you okay?”
God, Holly knew her so well. No wonder everyone thought they were sisters. “Just got some disappointing news,” Gemma said.
“About?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Holly nodded and then they were gone.
Gemma watched the couple walk away holding hands. Okay, she was more than a little bit jealous, but she would never let Holly know that.
She had a few customers, which kept her from thinking about how she had been so sure Chewbacca was the killer only to find out she was totally wrong. The whole thing was kind of embarrassing. At least she and Ross were the only two who knew she’d made a fool of herself. Well, Holly, too. And then she saw Nick ambling toward her and realized he probably knew now as well.
“I understand you’ve given up investigating murders,” Nick said when no one else was near.
“You heard correctly,” Gemma said with a shrug. “I really thought I had it figured out.”
Nick laughed and hugged her. “Well, at least you have your jewelry career to fall back on.”
Gemma laughed, too. Nick could always cheer her, up no matter what, and she loved him for that. He helped her at the booth for a while, until he mentioned something about an interview and hurried off with his photographer. Mitch and Holly came by to see if she needed help and to let her know that they would be at the sci-fi convention for a little while.
The flow of customers slowed a little and Gemma had time to think. Unfortunately, what she found herself thinking about was the murder of General Loden West and the events of the past couple of days. First, she had seen him talking to Conrad Bilkers, arguing really, at the sci-fi convention. That’s also where she had seen the steampunk guy, Walter Shores, with his top hat and cane.
The general had stopped at their booth, admiring the jewelry. He seemed really interested in the health benefits it provided. Gemma gave him her business card and wrote her new cell number on the back. And then he had offered to buy HealthGems. She knew why now, but still it had surprised both her and Holly.
After that, she had heard him discussing his meeting with Benjamin Northlake at the restaurant. Of course now she knew what that meeting was supposed to have been about as well.
The lobby where he was murdered had been busy, noisy and filled with people. She remembered Bilker and Shores running past her. She remembered the confusion at the front desk and Vincent intervening. She remembered Simone rushing past her, probably to calm her daughter. Then the couple tried to get in the door with the double stroller.
And then West was dead.
He had been stabbed. It was up close and personal and Gemma couldn’t help but think it was a paid hit. But why? And what had he been stabbed with? She went over Ross’s description of the murder weapon. Long and round and sharp. How long would it have to be to go into your left armpit and into your heart? How sharp would it have to be to penetrate his clothing? As she contemplated this, Gemma felt under her arm with two fingers. Maybe six or eight inches, maybe longer.
A young couple came to the table and Gemma spent some time talking with them. But when they left, her thoughts returned to the murder, more specifically what might fit the description of the weapon Ross had given her. Gemma closed her eyes and forced her swirling thoughts to slow down. Not a knife. Not a magical cane. Not an arrow from Chewbacca. Then what?
“Headache?” Holly asked.
“Huh?” Gemma opened her eyes to find her friend staring at her.
“You were squeezing your eyes shut like you do when you have a headache,” Holly said, locking her purse into their little trunk.
“Just thinking,” Gemma said tiredly.
“About?”
“Nothing, really,” Gemma said.
“Well, you were thinking awfully hard about nothing.” Holly gave her a suspicious look.
Almost as soon as Holly spoke, Gemma remembered something she’d seen, or more importantly hadn’t seen, when she was upstairs that morning with Victoria. It was a tiny thing, but it might just be the answer they were looking for.
Finding out would be tricky too, because she had already been ordered away from the Northlake’s private quarters. She hesitated for a moment, but this idea made sense. She knew that she had to find out the truth.
“If you don’t mind, I need to run to the restroom,” Gemma said.
“Sure. Take your time,” Holly answered. “Looks like things are dying down here.”
“Yeah, it’s been slow.”
Instead of heading for the bathroom, Gemma went straight to the elevator. While she waited in the hall for it to arrive, she prayed she didn’t run into Ross or Nick or one of the Northlake brothers. And then from the front desk area she heard a deep voice.
“I’m Lt. Colonel Baker with the CID, here to see Detective Ross Ferguson.”
Gemma’s heart almost stopped. She had run out of time.
The elevator arrived right after that and Gemma stepped on, knees trembling. If she could confirm her new suspicions about the murder weapon, she was pretty sure everything else would fall into place. The elevator arrived on the top floor of Northlake Manor with a now familiar little bump. The doors opened silently and Gemma stepped out into the hall. It looked even darker than it had that morning and felt colder as well. Gray light came in through the window at the end of the hall and that was where Gemma headed.
The icicles, long beautiful ones that had made Northlake Manor look like an ice castle when she arrived, hung down in sharp points. Except here at this window, one was missing. That’s what she had seen over Victoria’s shoulder earlier - the view of the mountains and no icicles. Could one of them have been the murder weapon?
Tucking her hands into the sleeves of her jacket, she flipped open one of the handles that locked the window in place. Whoever used an icicle to kill Loden West would have left fingerprints on this window handle.
“Ms. Stone?” Mrs. Northlake said from behind her.
Gemma jumped, then immediately whirled to face the petite old woman who was standing not five feet from her. How had she been able to sneak
up on her like that? And then Gemma noticed that she had her knitting bag over one arm, her hand inside the bag.
“Child what are you doing? It’s cold enough up here without opening all of the windows.”
“I was...I was...” Gemma simply could not think of an excuse. “Okay, Mrs. Northlake. I think maybe an icicle was used to kill General West. I noticed that one was missing right here in front of this window and I wanted to make sure before I went to the police.” As Gemma spoke, she closed the window.
“An icicle would have melted before the killer made it downstairs,” Mrs. Northlake said simply.
“You’re right,” Gemma said, her heart dropping a little in disappointment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Just who do you think killed General West, dear?”
Gemma shrugged, defeated yet again. “I have no idea.”
“He wasn’t killed with an icicle,” Simone Northlake said. Her voice had changed. It was more like it had been that morning, cold and hard. She reached into the basket on her arm and pulled out a long knitting needle.
“A knitting needle,” Gemma guessed, her voice barely a whisper in the hall.
Mrs. Northlake nodded. There was certainly nothing wrong with her hearing.
“He was stabbed with a knitting needle,” Gemma repeated.
“With this one in particular. It’s a Bernat, number 2, made of steel. Fourteen inches long. The point is quite sharp.”
“You...you..,” Gemma swallowed hard as realization hit her that she was face to face with the last person she suspected of murder. “But why?”
“Why don’t you come into my apartment?” Mrs. Northlake said, motioning toward a door across from the elevator. “We’ll have tea and I’ll be happy to tell you the whole story. Then you can go get your detective friend.”
Gemma followed, knowing it was the last thing she should be doing but unable to stop herself. She had to know. Her mother would have said curiosity killed the cat. As they walked to Simone’s door and stepped inside, Gemma noticed just how quiet it was up here. No one was around at all.
Mrs. Northlake’s apartment was really just several guest rooms with doors opening up the walls between them. Gemma was led through a pristine sitting room filled with beautifully carved antique furniture and then Simone ushered her into a small kitchen with a table and two chairs in one corner near a window.
“Please have a seat,” Mrs. Northlake said, pulling out a wobbly little chair. “You know Winter and I loved having tea here in the evening while we talked. Even covered in the snow, the view is gorgeous.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” Gemma agreed. She sat gingerly on the edge of the chair.
Mrs. Northlake filled a kettle with water and set it on the small apartment sized stove. Then she prepared a small plate complete with a paper doily and covered it with an array of cookies. “I don’t have many visitors up here,” she said, turning to smile at Gemma. “I’ve almost forgotten how to entertain.”
Delicate-looking white china tea cups were placed on saucers with a little clink and Mrs. Northlake dropped a tea bag in each one. Gemma didn’t recognize the logo on the box and thought perhaps it might come from somewhere in Europe, maybe even France. Gemma watched her movements carefully. Her hands were steady. There was no sign of nervousness or age in her movements.
“Would you like one lump or two?” Simone asked, holding up a box of sugar cubes.
“Two,” Gemma said without thinking.
The teakettle began to whistle and Gemma looked out the window. The snow was coming down again. Her phone vibrated in her pocket but she ignored it. Holly would be angry with her, but she had to get Simone to talk.
“Now, isn’t this pleasant?” Simone said as she placed a tray on the table between them.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gemma said, as if a man had not been murdered in the lobby the day before. As if this seemingly frail old woman was not his murderer.
“Now, be patient with me while I tell you a little story,” Simone began. “Remember I told you I met Mr. Northlake in France during the war?”
Gemma nodded.
“I was working for the French Resistance at that time. Now, don’t look so shocked. They approached me and how could I refuse? I did it for my country. Besides, who would suspect a young girl, riding around the countryside on her bicycle selling soap and giving knitting lessons?”
“Probably no one,” Gemma admitted.
“Especially the Germans,” she said with a little smile. “I would learn of their movements and carry that information to the Americans in code, of course.”
“Weren’t you terrified?” Gemma asked. She could see the steam coming off of that cup of tea and knew it was too hot to drink.
“I was. But they taught me how to protect myself. I’m not proud of it, but I had to resort to violence a few times,” Simone said, looking at Gemma sadly.
“You killed people?”
“Germans.”
“With your knitting needles?”
Mrs. Northlake nodded, a tendril of snow white hair falling out of place and curling against her neck. The needles lay on the table between them, looking more like weapons than Gemma could have ever imagined.
“Why General West?” Gemma asked. “I heard you greet him, saw him stoop to hug you and then you sat on the sofa with him.”
“He was already dead by that time,” Mrs. Northlake said, a little smile on her face. This one was not sad.
“Why?” Gemma tried to remember the chain of events. Could Simone have moved him to the sofa after stabbing him? With no one the wiser? It was possible, she supposed. The settee they’d been sitting on was very close to where they hugged, so Simone could almost have just pushed him back onto it.
“Several years ago, General West approached Winter with a moneymaking scheme that was going to make us enough money to save Northlake Manor,” Simone began. “We were already running on a shoestring by that time, but we’d put a little nest egg away. We both knew it was a gamble but from the numbers he showed us, it was all legitimate and seemed to be a really a good investment.”
“But it wasn’t,” Gemma guessed.
Simone shook her head. “Within months every penny was gone with nothing to show for it. Our gamble had given us nothing. I was heartbroken. Winter was devastated and so embarrassed that he’d let his family down.”
Gemma needed something to do with her hands and her first instinct was to drink the tea. She even reached out to pick up the cup, but it was almost too hot to touch.
“Drink your tea, dear,” Simone urged.
“As soon as it cools a bit,” Gemma told her.
Simone smiled. “Of course, Benjamin and Vincent didn’t help. They berated their father for doing something so foolish, for wasting his money and for putting Northlake Manor at risk. And then Winter killed himself. Shot himself in the office that Benjamin uses now as his own.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gemma said.
“Which brings us back to how and why Loden West was killed. I stabbed him with the knitting needle when he hugged me there in the lobby. There was no way I was going to let him get away with what he had done to Winter. To our family. I just had to wait until the right time. When I found out he was here and that Benjamin and Vincent were going to sell out to him, I saw my chance. End of story.” The steel in her eyes was startling.
“You just had to tell her, didn’t you, mother?” Victoria said. Gemma twisted in her chair to see the other woman standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “You had to give it away.”
“She had already figured it out,” Simone said without looking at her daughter.
“And now what, mother? Are you going to kill her? Me?” Victoria’s voice grew shrill as she approached the table. “I told you you’d never get away with it.”
“Victoria, darling, you know I was just trying to cover up for you,” Simone said.
Gemma was suddenly so confused she sat there in silence, simply watching the two women.<
br />
“Ms. Stone, I was just trying to cover up for my daughter. She’s the real killer.”
“What? How could you say that?” Victoria wailed, lunging for her mother. “You know I’d never kill anyone.”
Gemma saw Simone’s hand fall onto one of the knitting needles. She scrambled to her feet and ran, leaving the two screaming women behind her. Their voices were somewhat muffled in the hall but she heard Simone say, “Look what you’ve done. Now she’s gotten away.”
There was no way Gemma was waiting on that elevator. Dashing to the opposite end of the hall, she slammed through the fire door and bounded down the stairs. They were dark and cold, and she felt like she might fall any second, but she plunged ahead. She had to get to Ross before Simone alerted her sons to stop Gemma. Once or twice Gemma almost fell, but she managed to grab the railing and keep herself from tumbling headlong down the concrete stairs and breaking her neck.
Once she reached the ground floor, Gemma paused outside the fire door to collect herself. She could hear nothing from above, so she was pretty sure no one was following her. All she had to do was get to Ross before she ran into one of the Northlake men.
Gemma opened the door and stepped out into the hall. There was the murmur of voices and the clank of silverware from the restaurant. The bathrooms were on her right and then Benjamin’s office. The door to the sci-fi convention was directly across from that.
She fought the urge to run and moved forward at a normal pace. And then, just as she reached the office door, it swung open. At the same time, someone came out of the sci-fi convention, weird noises and laughter flooded the hall and Gemma ducked inside and flattened herself against the wall. Bilker was at his table, hawking his books. Chewbacca was nearby talking to some fans. A zombie came up behind her and Gemma almost screamed.
And then she saw Nick and her heart leaped for joy.
“Nick,” she called his name over and over as she ran in his direction.
“Gemma, honey, Holly has been looking for you,” he said, concern clouding his face. “What is wrong?”
Mansions Can Be Murder: A Cozy Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 9