by Mary Birk
“Of course. I understand.”
But Meg wasn’t convinced. She’d no doubt if Andrew could find another way to get in contact with Anne, he’d do so. She assumed email would be his next attempt and decided to try to make sure Anne stayed away from her computer until she got a chance to tell her sister about the call.
Before Meg could think of anything else to say, Andrew spoke again. “I could be there in four or five hours. I want to be there for her if she needs me.”
“No, don’t come. There’s nothing you can do to help. She’s fine and you coming would likely cause problems.” She decided to be blunt. “Anne’s happy with Terrence. This is what she wants.”
“Do you really think it will work out this time?”
Meg told the truth. “Yes.”
From the silence on the other end of the line, Meg knew Andrew wasn’t convinced.
“Andrew, I need to go.”
“Tell her I called. I want her to know I’m thinking of her. I’m always thinking of her.”
*****
Reid slid down next to Anne on the sofa. Careful not to jostle her, he stretched his arm over her shoulders, looking down where Michael nestled into her to eat. The television news had been full of the events of the evening, and they’d been besieged with telephone calls. But at least the press vans had finally gone.
Meg came in with the one unbroken bottle of champagne and three glasses. “It’s almost eleven. Anyone hungry? Besides Michael?”
“I’m starved.” Reid looked at his wife, trying to assess how she was doing. “How about you?”
She smiled and nodded.
Meg poured the champagne. “I’ll cook. I may not be as good as Jeanne or Anne, but I’m not bad.”
“I could eat it raw,” Terrence said. “Need help?”
Meg handed out the glasses. “No, you two sit there and drink your champagne. It’s been a hell of a year.”
He held his glass up. “Here’s to a quieter new year for all of us.”
Meg and Anne lifted their glasses to meet his.
As Meg turned to go to the kitchen, he called out, stopping her. “Before you go, Meg, would you mind handing me Anne’s mobile? I don’t want to disturb Michael’s twelfth meal of the day.”
Somehow he knew Andrew Grainger had called, but he wanted to confirm it for himself. His sister-in-law’s hesitation was all the confirmation he needed. He held out his hand until Meg, getting a nod from Anne, placed the phone in his hand. Meg left the room and Anne leaned against him as he scrolled down the caller ID on her mobile. Grainger, of course.
He held the screen to show her.
“He saw the news. He was worried. Meg talked to him.”
He decided a grunt was the only civilized response.
Anne tilted her head up to him. “So how did you know it was Rodney? When you called, you said you had people looking for him.”
“A couple of things. From what George told us, I knew Rodney was worried about Von Zandt coming after him if he didn’t pay back the hedge fund loss, and he was desperate for money. But it was the snaps that Krystal took that tied him to Flora’s death.”
“Ones she took at Dunbaryn?”
He nodded. “She was making a thorough account of her trip and of the house to show her friends and relations, apparently. After breakfast the morning Flora was killed, Rodney left Krystal to make some calls. She decided to try to get photos of as many of the guest rooms as she could. As you know, the doors are generally left unlocked so the maids can clean or bring tea in the morning, that sort of thing.”
Anne moved Michael to finish eating on her other side. “Right, go on.”
“One of the rooms she went into was Rodney’s.”
“She hadn’t been in there before?”
“She says not. They weren’t at the sharing bed point yet.”
Anne grinned up at him. “Better than us. Made it past the first date.”
“Better’s a relative term. Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“Sorry.”
“Good. After she was already inside, she realized he was there, but in the bathroom, so she quickly took shots of the room and left. Then when she got back to Glasgow, she was going through the photos on her computer—which were all date and time stamped, by the way—and noticed something on the bed in Rodney’s room that made her call me.” He stopped talking to take a drink. When he didn’t resume his explanation, Anne gave him a little push on the arm.
“Go on, don’t be so aggravating. What was it?”
“A large envelope with a solicitor’s address on it. She couldn’t actually make out the words so she enlarged it on the computer screen and saw it was Jeremy Stone’s firm’s name. The time on the photo puts it right about when Flora was killed. I’m guessing after he’d killed his mother he’d gone back to his room to wait until he could get back into Lance’s room so he could burn the papers in there. May-be he’d decided to shower or something while he waited for the way to be clear—maybe Lance was back in his room, or the maid was there or in the corridor or something.”
“That’s sounds so cold-blooded. To kill your mother, and then just go take a shower?”
“Indeed. So then I knew it was Rodney who’d killed his mother—after all, Lance had told him exactly what Darryl wanted him to do and had even brought the means to commit the murder with him to Dunbaryn. Rodney just needed to take the insulin kit from Lance’s suitcase and do it himself while she was asleep. Flora’s copy of the will would have been signed so Rodney knew she’d already executed it, and he must have thought Jeremy had the original copy with him.”
“He told me he couldn’t find the original.”
“Yes, as Jeremy had already taken the original back to Inverness on Christmas Eve after this young chap’s christening.” He smoothed his hand over Michael’s head. “Rodney followed Jeremy to the Falcon House and killed him, using a tool he’d seen Lance using earlier, knowing Lance’s prints would likely still be on the thing, then went through Jeremy’s briefcase. Later, he got into Lance’s room and burned the papers in the fireplace so any evidence would lead to Lance instead of him.”
“And Miranda?”
“We know why he killed Miranda. I’d just found out about their relationship right before I got Allison’s call about finding her dead. I’d sent her to round up Rodney and Miranda and bring them in. I thought there was a chance Miranda was involved with killing Flora and Jeremy as well.”
Anne shook her head. “Rodney said she didn’t know until today.”
“I hope not. When I heard about Miranda being dead, and there was no sign of Rodney, I knew he must have been involved. Then when I called you, as soon as you said that about the chocolate cake, I knew Rodney was with you.”
She burrowed against him. “I’m so glad you understood.”
“And you as well with the vase.”
“I probably should have tried to just shoot him before Meg came home, but I didn’t want to have to kill him. I thought maybe I could talk him out of it or get him too drunk to do anything, or that when you came you could talk him out of it. Then when Meg got here, I decided I needed to get Michael and her out of the way, and I had to give her the gun in case Rodney decided to try to hurt them.”
“You were very resourceful, taking your mobile with you and getting him out of the house.” He nodded his head toward Michael. “I think he’s finished.”
Anne nodded, refastened her nursing bra. “I didn’t want any shooting inside the house where Michael and Meg could be hurt.” She frowned. “What about Lance? Why did Rodney kill him? Rodney never even mentioned Lance to me.” She pulled her shirt back down just as Meg appeared in the doorway.
“Dinner’s ready, and if you guys hurry, we’ll have half of our meal this year and half in the next.”
Anne handed him the baby and got up. “What about Lance?”
“I’ll tell you later. Let’s eat.”
*****
Anne was fi
nally asleep. Reid held her in his arms, feeling her breath go in and out of her body. He lightly drew his finger across her lips, the memory of them sending a spasm of desire through his body. Tonight she wouldn’t let him stop her and he wasn’t able to say no to that sweet mouth.
He smoothed her hair and kissed her softly, careful not to wake her. Luckily, no one else knew what the deranged Rodney Greene had said. Right or wrong, Reid wouldn’t volunteer any connection between his relationship with Miranda Greene and what had happened here last night. As far as everyone knew, Rodney Greene had targeted Reid because of his role in the investigation of the murders. He wasn’t going to do anything to put either his family or the Greenes up for public scrutiny in a scandal of the sort recounting the sordid details of Rodney’s relationship with his sister would cause. Nor did the public need to know Rodney’s jealousy of Reid had played a part in the tragedy. The man was dead, and it was over.
Only Anne and he knew the whole truth and it was only her forgiveness and understanding he needed for his role in what had happened. At least she knew he could never, even in his most irrational of moments, accuse her of causing more scandal or trauma to their life than he had. And Anne agreed with him about the information he was withholding. He held his wife and felt the peace inside of her, a peace she gave to him through her very presence.
But he knew this wasn’t finished. In the morning he needed to make the arrest for Lance Kensington’s murder.
JANUARY 1 - FRIDAY
Chapter 70
THE ALARM COMPANY agreed to come first thing that morning, despite it being a holiday. The news stories of the night before had gotten their attention, and when Reid rang the owner of the firm, he’d had no difficulty in getting things arranged for an immediate installation. They were going to install security cameras in addition to an elaborate alarm system and promised the installation would be completed by the end of the day.
Reid left Anne and Meg to supervise, promising he would be back to take them to noon Mass, and afterwards to luncheon at the MacTavishes. He was surprised, but glad, that Anne was doing so well. She’d talked with her mother and her sisters, and that seemed to be therapy enough for her. Unlike the ever-present guilt she felt about Lenore Grainger, with regard to Rodney, Anne seemed to accept she’d had no choice but to do what she’d done.
He parked his car on the street in a no parking area, sticking his police creds on the dashboard to avoid a citation. He announced himself over the intercom of the high-rise building. After a fast elevator ride, he reached the top floor and went to the penthouse on the left.
Rafe Kensington opened the door, still in his dressing gown and looking haggard. “Come in, Terrence. I saw the news. You look like you could use some coffee.”
“That I could, thanks.” Reid took a seat on one of the chairs in the living room and waited until Rafe returned from the kitchen bearing two cups of coffee.
Rafe handed him one of the cups, then sat down on the sofa opposite the chair occupied by Reid. “I would never have believed it of Rodney. Killing Flora, Stone, Lance, Miranda, and then coming after you.”
Reid let a moment pass while he took a drink of his coffee, though there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to make this easier. “We both know Rodney didn’t kill Lance.”
“He didn’t? I thought . . .”
“You killed Lance.” Reid took another drink, keeping eye contact. “You meant to kill Darryl Duggan, I expect. Tragic luck that the two of them look so much alike.”
Rafe slumped forward, putting his head in his hands.
“I need to caution you.”
Rafe didn’t look up while Reid recited the obligatory advisement of rights, nor when he handed him a card with the caution language to sign.
“I need a pen.”
Reid passed one of his own pens, and Rafe put the document down on the coffee table in front of him and signed. Handing both the card and pen back, Rafe said, “I’m glad it’s you that came.”
Reid wished he could say the same. He’d have rather been almost anywhere else. “Are you willing to talk to me without a solicitor present?”
“Yes.”
Reid took a small recording device from his pocket. “On record?”
“No point in keeping secrets anymore.”
Reid tapped the device’s on button, then repeated the advisement. “Tell me what happened in as much detail as you can.”
“You were right. I meant it to be Darryl. I loved my son.” Rafe paused. “Lance had started working out apparently. I didn’t realize how much he’d filled out. I went to Darryl’s flat, let myself in with the key he kept hidden outside. From behind, I thought he was Darryl.”
Listening, Reid felt so tired his bones ached.
Rafe gripped his coffee cup so hard Reid saw his knuckles whiten. “He wasn’t supposed to see Darryl anymore. I specifically forbade him from going over there.”
“Did Lance know you and Duggan were lovers?”
Rafe shook his head. “I don’t think so. Darryl didn’t tell him, and I certainly didn’t.”
“Why did you decide to kill Duggan?”
“I didn’t see any other way out. He was destroying Lance. I couldn’t see how we would ever be free of him, of the evil of him. He let Lance take the blame for Flora’s murder by himself, even though it had been Darryl who wanted Flora killed.”
“You believed Lance had killed Flora and Jeremy Stone?”
“At first, yes. I thought Darryl had gotten him to do it. But when we were driving back from Dunbaryn, Lance admitted he was trying to take the blame for Darryl because he thought Darryl had killed Flora.”
Reid voiced the suspicion he’d been forming. “Had Duggan tried to get you to kill Flora?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“For the money he thought I’d inherit. He talked about making it look like an accident, drugs or something, and he knew Flora was diabetic. I refused, and he quit taking my calls.”
“When did you find out Lance was involved with him?”
“Not until we were at Dunbaryn. I walked in on them in what you’d call a compromising situation. I’d naively assumed Darryl had negotiated an invitation from Lance so he could be with me over the holidays.” He shook his head. “I’d been desperate to get him to come back to me; it didn’t occur to me how ludicrous that assumption was.”
“When did you first suspect Flora had been murdered?”
“Right from the start. I knew Flora wouldn’t have given herself those insulin injections. If her pump hadn’t been working, she would have mentioned it, not just taken Lance’s kit, even if she knew he had it with him.”
“You knew about her and George?”
“Again, not until we were at Dunbaryn. Darryl told me he’d seen Flora go to Greene’s room late at night, in her nightgown, for God’s sake. Like she was twenty or something.” He finished off his coffee, put the cup down. “I never thought Greene would be interested in her again, especially not after all those younger women. I concluded he was just plowing familiar fields for convenience’s sake because he hadn’t brought a woman with him. On Flora’s part, I assumed she had been feeling neglected and was enjoying the attention. I didn’t think she’d divorce me for Greene, not after all these years and all the baggage between the two of them.”
“Did you know she’d changed her will?”
Rafe shook his head. “No.”
“Have you talked to Duggan since you left Dunbaryn?”
Rafe nodded.
Reid noted the nod for the recording, then asked, “When?”
“I called him when we got back to Glasgow to tell him to stay away from Lance. And from me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said if Lance wanted to see him, he wouldn’t say no.”
“Did he seem disturbed you weren’t willing to see him?”
Rafe folded his hands, studied them. “Not at all. He didn’t have any use for me anymore. He knew I wa
sn’t getting any of Flora’s money, and I certainly couldn’t take him into chambers with me at this point.” He splayed out his fingers and continued to gaze at them as if they were new to him. “I didn’t care about that. Really.” His expression was peaceful. “But he was ruining Lance’s life. I had to stop him. I knew killing him was the only way to do it.”
“What about Broderick Pooley? You killed him as well, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Rafe pursed his lips, nodded. “I regret that.”
“What happened?”
“Old story. I found out he was seeing Darryl when I saw the two of them come into the building together. It was after Darryl told me he didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“Because?”
“Because I wouldn’t agree to kill my wife.”
Reid nodded.
“So when I saw them together, I guess I went a little insane. I thought if Pooley were out of the way, Darryl would come back to me. I didn’t know about Lance then, or that there were others. I watched until I saw Darryl leave the building, then I went to see Pooley. I told him Flora was interested in investing with him, but didn’t want Rodney to know, and asked if we could talk.”
“And he let you in?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t he? We were neighbors and he knew from Rodney that Flora had money. Before he realized anything was wrong, I just popped the needle in his arm.” Rafe illustrated, pantomiming making an injection with his fingers into his own arm. “Slid right in.”
“Where did you get the drugs?”
“Darryl had left some at my flat. I thought it would look like Pooley had overdosed on his own.” He put his head in his hands. “I watched him die and couldn’t believe what I’d done.”
“He died right away?”
“Within minutes. I wiped off anything I’d touched and went back to my own flat. Then I went home to the country, and the next day Flora and I went to Dunbaryn.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you how shocked I was when Darryl showed up there with Lance.”
Reid had all he needed for now. “Would you like to call a solicitor now?”