Murder of the Maestro

Home > Mystery > Murder of the Maestro > Page 16
Murder of the Maestro Page 16

by Anna Celeste Burke


  “A built-in mnemonic, huh? Clever. I’m glad to meet you, too. Please call me Meg. Thanks for inviting us to lunch, Georgie,” she said shaking hands with me and then with Carol. Meg’s eyes swept the room as we moved from the foyer into the open great room and kitchen area. “Is there no end to magnificent homes with ocean views in Southern California?” She asked as she kept moving, drawn toward the sliders that led out to the veranda overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

  In our exchange of greetings, I’d completely ignored the cats. Miles was having none of that! He leaped to a barstool, leaned back his head, and roared. Ella jumped up next to him, blinking her beautiful blue eyes at our guests.

  “I forgot to introduce you to the lord of the manor and his lady fair. Meet Miles—as in Miles Davis, and the lovely Ella,” I said as the two women gave the furry duo the attention they demanded.

  “As in Ella Fitzgerald?” I nodded in response to Meg’s question as the princess earned her moniker by uttering a series of sweet melodious gurgles followed by another trumpet blast from Miles. “That was impressive, Miles. The maestro liked to say, ‘If you’ve got something to say, say it loud enough to be heard in the back of the room.’ A lesson he learned early playing in noisy bars and clubs in New Orleans and surrounding bayou towns.” She pronounced it “N’awlins” exaggerating the cadence as she dragged out the one word that counted as two.

  “How is it that Dave Rollins had almost no accent? Yours is subtle, too. Even your voice, Maggie, doesn’t give you away as a woman born and raised in Southern Louisiana,” I commented.

  “Dave and I both had elocution lessons as children. Our families were dead set against sounding like locals. Not as any aspiration to be ‘Yankees,’ mind you. Their affections lay with their French ancestry and a desire to convey a certain je ne sais quoi that they imagined to be Continental. Dave and I spoke French right along with English we learned from bilingual nannies. In Maggie’s case, it’s all about not getting typecast when she auditions for roles.” Carol opened the sliders and led us out to our table set for al fresco dining on the veranda. The breeze that floated up to us captured a lovely scent.

  “That’s a wonderful fragrance!” I said.

  “More Francophilia, I’m afraid. An old French fragrance my mother adored, and I adopted. Dave loved it, too, and bought it for me. After so many years, it has become an old friend—a source of solace and comfort.”

  We seated ourselves and began eating the crusty warm bread and creamy white bean soup I’d prepared as an appetizer. Meg’s mention of solace had been laden with a note of sadness. Perhaps because neither her mother nor Dave were alive to enjoy the fragrance she wore. The pounding of the ocean filled the pause in our conversation.

  “This is delicious,” Maggie said breaking into the silence.

  “Yes, it’s perfect. The setting and the view, too. I’m so overcome by it, I can hardly speak!”

  “Our soup is only the beginning.”

  “Carol’s right. In fact, I need to head back inside and prepare our next course. Please, enjoy your soup and the view while I finish the dish.”

  “May I come inside and keep you company while Carol and Maggie chat? Maggie is curious about what it’s like to work for The Cat. She was relentless in questions put to her grandfather about The Cat Factory. I have a few questions for you about other matters.” Meg gave me no hint of what those questions might be, but I was more than a little interested in hearing them.

  “Follow me, Meg. You’re in luck, Maggie. There’s no one better to ask about Marvelous Marley World than Carol. She’s an expert on more than what goes on in the Food and Beverage Division where we work.” It was as if a fuse had been lit. Maggie sat up straight and shifted her seat a little toward Carol.

  “That would be great! Grandpa was so fixated on his music that I could not get him to help me understand how what he did fit into the rest of what goes on at Marvelous Marley World.”

  “Marvelous Marley World is to Carol as France was to your parents, Meg. Right?” Carol nodded in response to my question with great enthusiasm.

  “I’ll admit it. I love The Cat Factory—call it Cat-factoryphilia! Where should I begin? Do you want an overview of how it all works today, or do you want to hear the spiel about how Max and his friends like your grandfather started out?”

  “At the beginning—at least at the point where my grandfather joined Max. Grandpa loved that ‘crazy old mad man’ as he called Max so often.”

  “They’re going to be at it for a while. Let’s go cook!” I stepped into the kitchen with Meg close behind.

  “May I help or is it better to stay out of the way?”

  “I’ve done as much as I could in advance,” I said as I walked around the large, granite-topped kitchen island. “You can help me in a few minutes. For now, please try the wine we’re having for lunch and make yourself comfortable.”

  My kitchen island has “step downs” so that part of it is at standing height with plenty of work space. Opposite is a higher elevation with tall barstools for guests. Then it drops down to seating level. Both sets of seats provide a good view of what I’m doing in the kitchen and allow me to speak to guests while I cook. Meg sat down in one of the comfy chairs at the seating level where Jack and I often have breakfast on workdays.

  “My mise en place, see?” I said as I pulled a tray from the refrigerator laden with the items for our main course.

  “Yes—'setting in place’ all the elements for a dish is handy. Maggie googled you and found out about your chef training. I can tell it’s useful to you at home as well as at work.”

  “Home is about the only chance I have to do much cooking these days. On occasion, I pitch in when we’re opening a new kitchen or revamping the menu, but mostly I manage the food and beverages others prepare. How is the wine?” I asked as I poured clear butter into a large sauté pan.

  “Fresh and lively—delicious. Ah! Clarified butter and sole fillets! Sole Meunière—you have gone out of your way for me! I will never be able to thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

  “I enjoy this dish, too. As did, Dave.” I hoped that might steer the conversation back to the topic of Dave and his past life. I was dying with curiosity about the questions she had for me. “Dave and I weren’t close, but we worked together for a long time and I learned a few things about him. He earned every bit of the recognition he received. I’m not sure how he found the time to do all he did.”

  “Given all the time he spent chasing women, you mean?” I carefully placed the dredged sole fillets into the sauté pan and then stopped for a moment to gauge Meg’s take on the remark she’d made. She wore a wistful, almost melancholy expression. “I blame myself, given what a devastating toll our love affair took on him. His family disowned him. Most of his snobby friends did, too. Even though I came from the same society circles, I became a persona non grata when I married Robert Landry. Adultery didn’t make me more unwelcome than I already was in those circles. By falling in love with me, Dan Devereaux, which was his name then, was shunned, too.”

  “Dave must have learned something from that experience because I never detected a hint of snobbery from him. He did a good deal over the years to make the Music Group at Marvelous Marley World more diverse. Dave was always welcoming to everyone he encountered regardless of their background as far as I could tell.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve seen plenty over the years about how welcoming he was to a bevy of beauties once he became a celebrity. The haunted look in his eyes made me feel horribly guilty. I loved him, but I didn’t have the courage to stand up to my husband.” Meg stopped to sip her wine before going on with her story.

  “Dan left town and changed his name because the ruthless psychopath I’d married threatened to kill him. Beating him to a pulp wasn’t enough. Not just because of our affair, but because that horrid husband of mine embroiled Dave in his dirty business. The police arrested Dave, and Robert threatened to have him killed while he was locked up. The wretch
ed man had that kind of clout at the time, so I presume he could have made good on the threat. Dave decided his only option was to get out. He wanted to take me with him, but I sent him away by himself. If I’d left with him, Robert would have put out a bounty on my head and every lowlife in Southern Louisiana would have been searching for us. I couldn’t stay away from Dave, and probably put us both at risk by visiting him in Chicago. When I discovered I was pregnant, I knew I had to end that for us and our baby. The irony is, once I became a mother, Robert lost interest in me as a woman and spent most of his time in a lavish suite at one of the hotels he owned. At least he left me alone, although he would never have agreed to a divorce. After Deirdre was born, there weren’t any more children.”

  “Did Dave ever try to contact you? Was he aware that you had a child?”

  “Every year on my birthday I received a single red rose and a musical charm with a note signed with the letter ‘D’ inside a heart.” She laughed before going on. “I’m so old now that there are too many to wear on a bracelet. I keep them in a velvet display case I had made especially for them. While my daughter was alive, I kept them hidden. When she was young, I was afraid of the questions she might ask about them. As she grew older, she rebelled, sought out Robert’s company, and fell under his spell. I feared she’d steal them or tell him about them and that would cause trouble for Dave. Maybe if I’d told her about Dave and insisted she spend time with him, her life would have gone in a different direction.”

  I was the one who was spellbound. I turned over the fillets, and then placed a second pan on the stove to sauté the parboiled fresh baby vegetables that would accompany our sole. I also peeked at the potatoes I’d put into the oven when our guests had arrived.

  “Ah, that’s what I smelled when we came into the kitchen a few minutes ago.”

  “Roasted baby potatoes with Herbs de Provence,” I said, satisfied that all the components of our meal were about to finish together. “Only a few more minutes.”

  “I’m not sure how much you know about Deirdre, but her life was devastating, most of all to herself, but it was hard on Maggie and me, too.”

  “Only a little. What I learned came from Dave’s attorney when Jack and I discussed Dave’s estate. To our surprise, that included provisions he’d made for a granddaughter. Deirdre Knight came up during our conversation. From what he said, I can only guess at how difficult it must have been for you.”

  “Our own private little Shakespearean tragedy. She died nearly two decades ago and it’s still hard to understand how it all went so wrong. Did Dave’s attorney tell you how to find me?”

  “No. Dave’s attorney and his accountant are both under the impression that you’re no longer alive.” Meg laughed. This time her laugh was a hearty one. Almost musical, it sounded so much like Maggie’s.

  “Dave has done so much for Maggie and me—once she revealed herself to him. She wants a career in show business, so Maggie’s committed to staying on the West Coast. Dave didn’t want her to be alone and sent for me. I have this dreadful worry, though, that it’s what got him killed. Is that possible?”

  “There’s no reason to believe that at this point. It’s too soon, I’m afraid, to say who killed him. Jack and his colleagues have lots of evidence to sift through. They’ve conducted dozens of interviews already and will get around to you and Maggie soon now that they know you exist. It’s possible Dave was killed because of some connection to his past. Robert Landry’s been dead a long time, now. From what you’ve said, you and your husband had gone your separate ways even before that.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself. I’d hate to think that after forgoing the chance to have a lifetime together, Maggie and I stirred up old trouble for Dave and he ended up dead anyway.”

  “Does Robert Landry have family who would want to seek revenge because of Daniel Devereaux’s affair with you or his involvement in the family business?”

  “No. Robert Landry was the black sheep of a moldy old southern family with little to their name other than a rundown plantation that was largely swamp. If I’d turned up dead at the foot of the Malibu cliffs, you might want to see if any members of the Devereaux family had visited California recently. I can’t think of one of them who cared enough about Dave to go to that much trouble. Not me either, if I’m honest. I can hear it now, ‘Meg Landry isn’t worth the powder it would take to blow her up.’ No, I don’t how anyone from the Devereaux family who could have been responsible for killing Dave any more than the Landrys.”

  “Given the way in which you’ve described Robert Landry, it sounds like there was no love lost between him and the people with whom he did business.”

  “That’s an understatement. One or more of his so-called partners set him up.”

  “The statute of limitations must have long ago run out on any wrongdoing Dave learned about while he was mixed up in Robert’s dirty business. Would anyone among Robert’s business associates care enough to avenge him or have some reason to worry about something Dave learned so long ago?”

  “I don’t know, but I was oblivious to Robert’s business. On purpose since I turned a blind eye to it—see no evil, hear no evil, and no one can lean on you to speak about the evil. That was Robert’s philosophy on the matter and I went along with it to keep the peace. There was a threat behind that philosophy too. Now I can see it as another failure to stand up to the man.”

  “He was a dangerous man to oppose. Once you had Deirdre to consider, what could you have done?”

  “I wish I’d tried. Despite my efforts to protect her, she ended up dead too soon thanks, in large part, to Robert Landry. He let her run wild with Harry Knight and his crowd.”

  “Children make their own choices. It’s obvious to me, she pursued a relationship with him, against your wishes and all the motherly advice you gave her.”

  “That’s for sure. Dave’s brother, Bill, might be able to tell you more about Robert’s business associates. He didn’t wise up and escape as quickly as Dave did. When Deirdre was accused of killing her husband, Bill was still around. He tried to help her, so he can tell you more about the web of people with whom she’d become entangled. I don’t know why anyone in Deirdre’s circle would have it in for Dave. Bill maybe, but not Dave.”

  “The name we have for him is Bill Rollins like Dave, not Devereaux.” Meg nodded.

  “I know. Eventually William Devereaux did the same thing Daniel had done. After Robert was killed, Bill left without telling me where he was going or why. Dave told me recently that he’d changed his name to William Rollins at some point. I spoke to Bill briefly when he called Dave a couple of weeks ago. It didn’t seem appropriate to go into the past over the phone, but I do know how to reach him.”

  “Carol called and left a voicemail message inviting him to the memorial service and asked him to call me. We’ll see if that happens.”

  “I’ll make sure he responds to your call. I don’t know what the rules are about receiving or returning calls—family can always reach him.” I was puzzled, wondering if that meant Bill’s involvement in Robert’s dirty business had caught up with him and he was in prison somewhere.

  “As Bill Rollins, he became a teacher at St. Mary’s School for Boys until he retired. The school is on the grounds of a religious community that’s not exactly cloistered, but Bill’s still living there. They have rules about how ‘Brother Bill’ communicates with the outside world.”

  “That puts a new twist on things, doesn’t it?”

  “It does. Here’s a question I hope you can answer for me. Who can Maggie trust? Dave is gone. I won’t be around forever. What about his attorney and the accountant? Maggie said she liked them both. Why would Dave have told them I was dead?”

  “Hmm, that is a good question, isn’t it? Are you sure he told them you were dead, or did they just assume it since he made no mention of your whereabouts when Maggie showed up?” My recollection was that Skip had said it in a very matter of fact way.

&n
bsp; “I’m not certain how they arrived at that conclusion. Maggie heard them say it when Dave took her to meet them. It wasn’t too long after she moved out here. She mentioned it to me because Dave hadn’t made any effort to correct them. Maggie took her cue from him and didn’t say anything either. When she asked him about it later, Dave responded in a frustratingly enigmatic way.”

  “How so?”

  “He said, ‘People aren’t always as they seem.’ If that’s the case, why would he do business with them?”

  I flashed for a moment on Jennifer’s odd demeanor during the meeting we’d had with her and my suspicion that she and Dave might have been more than friends at some point. Not only that, but the fact that Jack had caught her watching us as we returned to our car had screamed “up to no good” to me. I hadn’t asked Jack about it again. I would now after pondering Meg’s astute questions.

  “Dave has relied on them for years to manage his finances, his estate, and other legal matters. The firm also has ties to Marvelous Marley World and our CEO with whom Dave was very close. Maybe it was too sensitive an issue to raise, or too difficult to cut them loose as complicated as his estate has become.” I was still mulling over her question when she asked a new one.

  “What about Pat Dolan?”

  “Well she knows you’re alive if that’s any indication of Dave’s belief about her trustworthiness. He also entrusted her to handle the arrangements involved in relocating you and Maggie to California.”

  “She’s always been kind to Maggie and me. Helpful, too.” Meg’s voice trailed off as she reached the end of her remarks.

  “Did Dave say something about her that has you worried?” I asked.

  “Not directly, but he came to visit one afternoon, and he was preoccupied. When I asked him why, he said he’d been searching for something and couldn’t find it. I tried to reassure him that people our age often misplaced items and he didn’t need to be concerned. That’s when he said he wasn’t worried about his memory but feared that someone he trusted had taken it. When I pressed him about it, he changed the subject, like he’d done with Maggie after that comment about people not being what they seem. Now that someone has killed him, I wish Maggie and I had taken his concerns more seriously.”

 

‹ Prev