by Ann Yost
"Wait a minute," I said, "what about the note under Riitta's door? If the newcomer was the murderer, Alex would have had no chance to deliver it."
"He might have given it to Jack," Tom said. "He might have asked him to slip it under Riitta's door on his way home."
"The problem with all of this," Erik said, "is that there's no one left. Unless someone from the outside slipped into the lighthouse."
"I can't think that Jack would have just walked past a complete stranger," I said. "He's very protective about the lighthouse in general and the lens in particular. He'd have wanted to strip search somebody he didn't know."
"At least that's one question we'll be able to get the answer to," Erik said. "All we have to do is ask Jack."
At that moment, the silence was shattered when the front door opened. My heart lifted but quickly sank when the new arrival turned out not to be Captain Jack but Sheriff Clump.
He was a virtual mountain of sweat-soaked aggravation. He removed his hat, rubbed an arm against the moist peak on the top of his head and glared at us for a moment, his purplish cheeks expanding and contracting like a pair of bagpipes.
"Awright, deputy," he said, finally, "I hope to Hades you're ready to take somebody downtown." By downtown he meant the single cell in the one-story, cinderblock building in Frog Creek that is the Copper County Sheriff's Department. The cell's only use is as a drunk tank or an emergency bed for someone who got stranded in the snow. Locals never mind staying there because the food is provided by Vesta Raatikainen, Clump's mother-in-law, who happens to own the local diner, the Lunch Box.
I looked at Ellwood, curious about how he'd handle the question. His response set me back on my heels.
"I'm arresting Danny Thorne," Ellwood said. "As a person of interest in the murder of his natural father, Alexander Martin."
At that announcement, Riitta screamed, Tom shouted, Erik tried to pour the oil of common sense on the hysterical waters, and Danny just stared at the other nineteen-year-old in the room. One comment stood out above the others.
"Okey-dokey," Clump said. "Cuff 'im, deputy."
"We gotta Mirandize him." I knew he was referring to the law officer's responsibility to advise a suspect of his right not to incriminate himself before questioning. I was pretty sure Clump had forgotten about that if he'd ever known it.
"Hell's bells!"
"It's no problem, sheriff. I've got a copy of it here on my phone. I'll read him his rights." He scrolled down. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say could be used against you in a court of law..."
"Hold on," Erik Sundback interrupted. There was so much authority in his voice that Ellwood stopped short. "Surely this is premature. You have no reason to suspect this young man. He has been straightforward with you about his actions and there is no evidence to suggest that he was the killer."
"It has to be him," Ellwood said, simply. "There's nobody else it could be. He maybe have told the truth about everything else but there was no unknown person coming up the tower after twelve thirty that night. There was only Danny Thorne. He made up that stuff about Captain Jack to throw us off the track. He went back into the watch room with Alex Martin. Martin would have gone out on the gallery with him. He wouldn't have suspected his own son. Emotions got the better of the younger man, he hit Martin with a rock or something, then pushed him off the tower. Case closed."
In the midst of my horror, in the midst of my disbelief, I had to admire the young deputy. What he said fit the facts. What he said made heartbreaking sense. I couldn't even look at Riitta, who had gotten to her feet and turned into Tom Kukka's arm. But Tom moved her aside.
"Danny's telling you the truth," he said, to Ellwood. "He heard someone coming up the stairs. He heard Jack speak and the other person murmur a response. He heard the newcomer knock on the watch room door and enter it and subsequently, kill Alex Martin. Cuff me," he said, quietly. "Read me those Miranda rights. I'm your guy. I killed Alex Martin."
"Criminently," Clump roared.
"But what's your motive," Ellwood asked. "Why did you kill him?"
"I could tell you it was because he'd threatened to take away the lighthouse which is life and death to me because it allows me to work with Riitta but it wasn't even that noble. I saw the attraction between Martin and Riitta. They'd been together. They shared a son. For all I knew, they'd get together again. He deserved to die for what he'd done to her all those years ago but the fact is, I didn't kill him for that. I killed him for the oldest reason in the book: jealousy."
"So where's the rock?"
Tom turned to look at me. "What?"
"The rock. The one you used to conk him on the head. What'd you do with it?"
"I threw it in the lake," he said.
"What about your alibi of going to the hospital at eleven thirty?"
Tom's blue eyes narrowed on me.
"I lied about that. I drove part way then turned around. I parked out under the trees and sneaked back into the lighthouse through the back door." He paused, and added as an afterthought, "almost got caught by Miss Thyra."
"Seems like you're awful eager to take the blame for this," the sheriff said. "The boy's got a better motive."
Tom Kukka stared Clump directly in the eye.
"I love Riitta Lemppi," he said, simply. "Everyone knows it. And everyone knows that I've proposed to her repeatedly and she's always turned me down. There's nothing that means more to me than she does. I killed to keep her. It was a risk but I took it and I'm not sorry."
Chapter 19
After a brief, shocked silence, everybody spoke at once. Danny was on his feet saying, "that's a lie! He's just saying that to keep me from being arrested!"
"My dear friend," Erik Sundback said, "surely you want to reconsider your words. Let me get ahold of a top-notch defense attorney for you before you give a statement."
"Hells, frickin' bells," Clump said, over and over. "Cuff, 'im, deputy."
"Tom," I said, with a reproachful look.
Ellwood was fumbling with the handcuffs attached to his belt. I was pretty sure he'd never used them before.
"Listen, deputy," Tom said, "I can save you some time on the Mirandas. I don't need to hear them. But I need a favor. Could I speak with Hatti privately for a moment?"
Before he could answer, Aunt Ianthe and Miss Irene tripped into the parlor. The former noticed the handcuffs and beamed at Ellwood.
"Did you catch the culprit then, dearie?"
"Let judgment run down as waters and righteousness as a mighty stream," Miss Irene said. "I think that is the most famous passage from Amos."
"Amos who?" Clump stared at her.
"Amos was a grower of sycamore figs as well as a shepherd."
Tom jerked his head toward the dining room and I followed him.
"I don't believe you," I said, in a low voice, when we'd reached the relative privacy of the next room. "You couldn't kill a fly. And how on earth did you move the body if you were still at the hospital?"
Tom waved my words aside.
"I need you to check up on the old ladies. Miss Thyra refused to take Verapamil and so she's had no remedy for her migraine. If she's vomiting or running a temperature, I want you to get her down to the hospital in Hancock. The same thing for Flossie. She should be all right after two injections of Digitalin and all that rest but if her heartbeat's too fast, I want her looked at, too. You know how to take a pulse?" I nodded. "And, listen, especially with Flossie, if you need an ambulance, call one. Or get Arvo to drive you down in the hearse."
"Why did you confess? It's just going to give cover to the real murderer."
"Danny Thorne's a good kid who deserves a chance. Can you imagine what it would do to his life if he were arrested for killing his own father?"
"What if he did it?"
"I don't think he did but it doesn't matter. An arrest would wreck his chances. And it would kill Riitta."
"And you don't think this will hurt Riitta?"
; "I know what I'm doing, Hatti. You have to trust me. Take care of my patients?"
"What about Riitta?"
The lines that bracketed Tom's mouth, deepened.
"She's got Danny and Sundback. She'll be all right. I just hope the same is true for Jack."
The actual, physical departure of the entourage reminded me of the Keystone Cops. There was no room in the Corvette for a prisoner, so after Ellwood shoehorned the sheriff into the driver's seat and waved him on his way, he had to borrow my Jeep to drive the suspect to jail.
After they'd left, the house became very quiet. Erik Sundback went upstairs to the watch room to make some phone calls and Danny went out for a run. Riitta disappeared and Aunt Ianthe and Miss Irene sat down on the sofa in the parlor, knitting in hand. I joined them but, for the first time in a week, I could find no joy in either the craft or the company of the old ladies. The sheriff had the wrong man in custody and it was up to me to find a way to prove it. The thing was, I couldn't immediately decide what to do. After a few minutes of pacing around the parlor, I excused myself. There was one person in this house that had both the intelligence and the experience necessary for this situation. I climbed the stairs to talk to him.
The eastward-facing watch room had been brimful of light in the morning. Now, after three o'clock, the sun had dropped into the western quadrant of the sky which meant the rays laid a path along the wooden floor and left the upper half of the room in shadow.
The attorney was sitting at the antique desk leafing through a stack of papers. There was a laptop next to him. He appeared busily productive but he flashed me a warm and welcoming smile when I appeared. I knew I'd been right to go to him. He was the only one around here still acting like a rational human being.
"What do you think of this crazy business," he asked, indicating that I should take the rocking chair which I did.
"The murder itself or the confession?"
"Take your pick. I guess I meant Tom. He's got an overdeveloped sense of protectiveness. If the boy pushed Alex we can make a case for a momentary impulse."
"What about the head wound?"
"Oh, the rock? Well, Alex could have fallen on it. If someone did move the body, presumably they moved the rock, too."
I nodded. I thought the case came down to that. Who had gone up to the tower with a rock in hand? And why had he or she hidden the body then resurrected it?
"There's no accounting for the thinking of a murderer," Erik said, reading my mind. "Their brains are wired differently from the rest of humanity."
"You don't believe that any of us could kill given enough provocation?"
"Oh, I think any of us could kill. I even think any of us could murder. But I think it takes a certain kind of individual to conclude that there's no other way out of a problem than to kill someone. It's anathema to our upbringing, for one thing." He grinned at me, "and for some cultures, to our faith."
"And yet, it seems like in this case, somebody was desperate enough to kill Alex Martin. And, possibly, Captain Jack."
It was the first time I'd said that aloud and just saying the words triggered an onslaught of nausea. I clamped my teeth shut and hoped the feeling would go away.
Erik swore. "I hope not," he said, quietly. "I hope to hell the old man is okay." I felt a rush of affection for the attorney and wound up asking him a question that was uppermost in my mind.
"What are your intentions toward Riitta?"
One sandy-colored eyebrow quirked up and I braced myself for a well-deserved set-down. It was none of my business. But he winked at me.
"Strictly honorable, Hatti, but I'm not sure I should tell you before I ask her."
"You want to marry her?"
He laughed and lifted a shoulder.
"I've avoided the state for a long time but who could meet her and not want to marry her?"
"But what about Tom?"
He seemed to take some care with his answer.
"It seems to me that's between the two of them. It's my impression she doesn't intend to marry him, that she's never intended to marry him."
"I don't think she'll marry anybody else while he's in the clink," I said.
"You know as well as I do that's temporary. Tom didn't kill Martin any more than I did. He left the lighthouse with me at eleven thirty p.m. We'll find the real killer, Hatti, and this nightmare will be over."
Except for Alex, I thought. And, possibly, except for Captain Jack.
"Did you come up here for a specific reason? Not that I'm not happy to see you. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Hatti. Riitta is lucky you chose to spend a few weeks here this summer."
"I wanted to get your opinion of the letter. The one Alex slipped under Riitta's door. Did you get a look at it?" He nodded. "What did you think, I mean about whether it was legitimate?"
His eyebrows lifted.
"Looked like it to me. Typed on a laptop, probably, signed and slipped into an envelope with her name on the outside in his handwriting."
"The name on the envelope was printed."
He looked surprised. "Was it? Good heavens, you're really turning into a detective. In any case, the signature looked real and it had a businessman's attention to detail." I nodded. "What makes you question it?"
"Mainly the timing. When would he have had time to write and deliver the letter?"
Erik stroked his chin. He had a heavy jaw, one that complemented his broad face and his slightly jutting brow. When I looked past his age, I could see that he was a handsome man.
"It wouldn't have taken long to write the letter," he said, after a minute.
"But there was no time to deliver it. The timeline accounts for nearly every minute of the three-quarters of an hour after midnight."
"Well, we don't know what happened after Captain Jack passed the man on the circular stairs. Alex may have excused himself for a minute and gone down to deliver the letter then. Or, and this is more likely, he had the letter ready and he gave it to Jack with instructions to deliver it to Riitta's room."
"I thought of that."
"We'll have to ask Kukka whether Jack had the envelope in his hand."
I stared at Erik Sundback. "Tom won't know. He didn't see Jack on the stairs."
Sundback slapped his forehead and groaned.
"You're right! I'm confusing reality with fantasy. Maybe Danny got a glimpse of Jack." I shook my head.
"He was back in the alcove, remember? He didn't actually see Jack."
Erik's lips twisted. "Good thing I'm not representing anybody in all of this. Sorry, Hatti. I didn't help you much. I do think the letter's legit, for what my opinion's worth, if only because of the signature."
"Erik, if the courts decide the letter represents Alex's wishes and the county gets the lighthouse and the money, will you remain on the lighthouse commission?"
"Absolutely."
"Because you want to marry Riitta?"
"Because it is an obligation I've assumed and it has turned into a duty. Because it was my late client, Johanna Marttinen's wish. And, because, I want to marry Riitta."
"Thanks." I got up to go.
"Something's bothering you."
"The lighthouse and money will go to the county just as we thought it would yesterday at this time. Nothing's changed except one man is dead and another is missing. It all seems so pointless."
"Murder's out of tune and sweet revenge grows harsh," he said.
"Shakespeare?"
"Romeo and Juliet."
Since Alex Martin and Riitta Lemppi had been, in effect, star-crossed lovers, that quote seemed apt. Sort of.
"Erik, what do you think really happened?"
He frowned. "The truth? Between you and me?" I nodded. "I'd say this thing has youthful passion written all over it."
I grimaced. "I was afraid you'd say that."
Chapter 20
I rested my elbow on the open driver's side window and Larry rested his chin on the passenger side. Lydia stood on her hind legs in
the backseat, her paws on the window sill. Her white fluffy ears had turned into twin zeppelins.
Since Ellwood had borrowed my Jeep, I was driving Riitta's SUV. The shocks were newer and better than mine, not that it made any real difference to the dogs. Or me, either.
I just wanted to get away from the lighthouse and driving on the Keweenaw in the summertime is pure pleasure. The major roads are bare of snow and other vehicles. And they're either lined with columns of pine-tree sentinels or with wide fields of green grass that create a bucolic pleasure.
The Keweenaw Peninsula is almost as beautiful and untouched now as it was two hundred years ago before mining companies had made it the world's number one supplier of pure copper and logging companies had cut down its old-growth forest of white pine trees. We were like some reverse civilization. Industrialization had come and gone but it hadn't left us unscathed.
The good news was we had a very cosmopolitan look for a tiny town buried in the north woods. We had our gothic architecture, including St. Heikki's, our historic opera house, complete with columns, cupolas and a golden dome and we had a couple of blocks of storefronts that could have come out of Charles Dickens's London. Oh, and as Arvo likes to point out, the abandoned mine shafts have turned into excellent habitats for bats.
The bad news was that our lovely fields were covered with poor rock leftover from the mines, tailings from the stamp mills, piles of slag from smelters and tree stumps. Underground the earth had been carved away leaving water-filled chambers that posed a threat to hikers. And then there were the waters. Waste products from the years of mining polluted our streams, rivers and lakes from the Keweenaw waterway down at Houghton to Torch Lake.
I wasn't thinking about any of those things though, as I turned off U.S. Route 41, the highway that connects Copper Harbor at the top of the Keweenaw with Miami, Florida. I drove down Tamarack Street into Red Jacket and, instead of turning down Calumet to my parents' home, I made a left onto Third Street. A moment later I was downtown, parallel parking on Main Street in front of Carl's Bait. The Gone Fishin' sign was in the window so I knew Einar had left for the day. The canines and I got out of the Jeep and entered the shadowed shop.