Knit Fast, Die Young

by Mary Kruger

  “Winston,” Beth whispered as the man walked farther into the barn, a trooper not far behind.

  “Winston!” Debbie exclaimed at the same time, and launched herself from her chair. She flew across the barn and threw herself into the man’s arms. “Oh, Winston!” It was a wail. “What am I going to do without her? Oh, what am I going to do?”

  “It’s all right, Debbie girl.” The man patted Debbie’s back awkwardly. Now that he was inside Ari recognized him: Winston Barr, Felicia’s husband. He was older than Felicia, and was nattily attired in a camel’s hair coat and a beret. He looked extremely uncomfortable with Debbie clinging to him, and yet his arms were around her.

  “No, it’s not. It’ll never be all right again. I miss her. I miss her, Winston. She was better to me than my own mother was.”

  “I know, Debbie. She thought of you as a daughter.” He cleared his throat. “We both did.”

  “I was so lucky. What am I going to do?”

  “Winston?” Diane whispered into Ari’s ear.

  “Felicia’s husband.” Ari was unable to take her eyes off the pair. “I met him once. He’s a charming man.”

  Debbie’s voice rose again. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was going to happen sooner or later,” Winston said.

  “But in such a way!”

  “I know. I had a lot of time to think about this on the way here, Debbie love. It’s terrible, I won’t deny that, but now at least she won’t suffer.”

  “Winston.” Debbie pulled away, staring at him. “You can’t really feel that way.”

  “Come, my dear, and sit down. We need to talk.” Winston took her arm and steered her toward the judges’ table. Once they were sitting, with their heads together, only the murmur of their voices reached the others.

  “Wow,” Diane muttered. “What is that all about?”

  Ari shook her head, equally mystified. “I never expected Debbie to act like that.”

  “Yeah. She was bouncing off the walls before.”

  “Maybe she was feeling this way all along.”

  “Maybe she’s nuts.”

  Ari gave her a sharp look. “What are you saying?”

  “Ari, you know she could have done it. And if she’s a little off…”

  Ari frowned. Debbie’s grief seemed genuine, so much so that she couldn’t watch anymore. “I don’t think so. I—hm.”

  “What?”

  “Look at Annie. Be casual about it!”

  Diane turned in her chair. Annie, still obstinately separate from the group, was nonetheless glaring at them. “What?”

  “Way to go,” Ari muttered, glaring at Diane herself. “Real subtle.”

  “I don’t think she even saw us. She’s looking at Debbie. What’s her problem, anyway?”

  “Who knows? She looks mad enough to…”

  “Kill?” Diane whispered, when Ari didn’t finish.

  “Yes, but…”

  “Could she have?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m surprised you’re not grilling her.”

  “I told you I’m not investigating,” Ari said, exasperated. “I’d know about the Knit It Up! article if I was, wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know, Ari.” Diane was looking at her. “Maybe you did know.”

  “Diane!” Ari exclaimed. “That’s so not fair—”

  “But, Winston, what are you doing here?” Debbie’s voice cut across the barn. She had stopped crying, but her face was red and swollen, and her voice was hoarse. “Shouldn’t you be with the police?”

  “I’m here for you, my dear.” Winston had pulled back from her. “I knew you’d be upset.”

  “I’m a suspect.”

  “Ha. As if you would have hurt her, Debbie girl.” He looked around for the first time. “And are all these fine-looking people suspects, too?”

  “None of us can prove where we were when Felicia died. Come on.” She got up, and, grabbing his hand, pulled him from his chair. He winced, but then seemed to recover. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” Arm in arm, they approached the small group. “Folks, this is Winston Barr, Felicia’s husband. I don’t think you know anyone here, Winston, except for Beth Marley.”

  Winston’s face hardened. “Ah, yes. Hello, Beth.”

  Beth nodded. “Winston,” she said, equally coolly.

  Winston turned away, and his gaze settled on Ari. “You look familiar, young lady.”

  “Yes, we’ve met,” Ari said. “I’m surprised you remember, Mr. Barr.”

  Winston peered at her for a moment longer, and then smiled. “Ariadne Jorgensen, isn’t it?”

  “Evans, now.”

  “Let’s see. It was the fifth anniversary party of Knit It It! at our apartment, I believe.”

  “Why, yes. You have a good memory.”

  “Felicia thought well of your work.”

  Ari blinked. “She did?”

  “Oh yes. Believe me, it wasn’t something she did often. She—ah. I believe I’m about to be summoned.”

  Ari saw Josh at the same moment as Winston, walking toward them with his mouth set in a grim line. “Mr. Barr?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Detective Pierce. Would you come with me, please?”

  “Certainly. Don’t worry, Debbie love.” He turned and gave her a quick hug before putting his beret back on. “It will all work itself out.” He turned and walked out with Josh, and with him went some of the strange lightheartedness that had so briefly filled the barn.

  Josh was not feeling kindly toward Winston Barr as they trudged back toward Barn A. When news had come from the gate of the fairgrounds that Felicia’s husband had arrived, Josh and the others had perked up. Unlikely though it seemed, since Barr had been in New York at the time, he could be involved in his wife’s death. It was axiomatic in an investigation: one’s nearest and dearest was often the culprit and always a suspect. To everyone’s surprise, though, the maroon Bentley, with a chauffeur at the wheel, had swept by them and stopped in front of Barn B. Josh had been dispatched to fetch Winston Barr for questioning.

  Felicia’s husband was not a big man. Though he wore an obviously expensive coat, he was shivering when they entered Barn A, and his skin was gray. Still, he paused just inside the door, observing everything warily. This was not a man to be underestimated.

  “Gentlemen,” Barr said, unbuttoning his coat but leaving his hat on. “I assume you are the ones looking into my wife’s death?”

  Charlie and Briggs had risen at his entrance and now introduced themselves, first offering their hands to shake. Winston gave them a swift and assessing glance, and then sat in the chair Briggs indicated. He was alone, facing the other three, and yet he exuded confidence and an air of control.

  “My condolences for your loss,” Briggs said, when they were all settled.

  “Thank you. Might I trouble you for some tea?”

  “I’ll get it.” Josh walked to the snack bar. No one talked during the time it took him to pour hot water over a tea bag and return with the cardboard cup.

  Winston murmured his thanks, took a sip, and then asked, “Well, gentlemen? Will you tell me about my wife’s death, and what you have discovered?”

  Josh gave the others a quick look and then launched into a recital of events. Winston listened with his head bowed, looking up only when Josh finished. “Thank you,” he said. “Do you believe she suffered?”

  That caught them all a little off guard. “If she did, it was brief,” Briggs said.

  Winston closed his eyes. His color had improved only slightly. “Poor Felicia.”

  “Were you married long?”

  “Ten years. The first marriage for both of us.”

  “The first?”

  “Yes. We both waited a long time for the right person.” He paused. “Felicia was a lonely soul.”

  “We understand that she was a difficult person.”

  Winston’s eyes hardened. “At times. As a business-woman she had to be. It
amazes me, gentlemen, that behavior that would be commendable in a man is less so in a woman.”

  “Er, yes. Would you say that your relationship was good?”

  “Yes.”

  “No recent quarrels or disagreements?”

  Winston frowned. “I find this line of questioning offensive. Is it necessary?”

  “Murder is offensive, Mr. Barr. We have to question everyone, including you. We want to find the murderer as much as you do.”

  He stared hard at them. “Do you think I hired someone to do it?”

  Josh shifted uneasily in his chair. The thought had been in the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time a spouse had done such a thing, while staying far away to set up an alibi. Yet, now that he’d actually met Winston, he doubted it.

  “It’s a possibility,” Briggs said, though Josh thought he heard the same doubt in his voice. “However it happened, sir, your wife was murdered.”

  “Oh.” Winston’s breath went out of him on a sigh, and he slumped back, his eyes closed and his face gray.

  “Mr. Barr.” Josh jumped up before the other two could quite react. Kneeling beside Winston, he took his wrist. “His pulse is fast. I think we should call an ambulance.”

  “No.” Winston’s voice was sharp, making Briggs pause as he lifted his walkie-talkie. “I’m all right.”

  “Sir, you could be having a heart attack,” Josh said.

  “I’m not. Would someone please get me some water?”

  “We really need to call the paramedics, Mr. Barr.”

  “No!” Winston was still pale, but he straightened in his seat. “I tell you, I’m all right.” He took the cup of water Charlie handed him. “Thank you. Oh, sit down, sir. I’m not going to die yet.”

  “Yet?” Josh said. He had risen, but still stood beside Winston’s chair. “What do you mean?”

  “I have cancer, young man.” Winston looked up at him. “I had chemotherapy yesterday and I’m tired. I’m taking something that’s supposed to give me more energy, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

  “I’m sorry.” Josh sat down.

  Winston nodded. “Pancreatic cancer. I’m told I have four months at most. I’ll be with Felicia soon,” he added softly.

  The silence was awkward. “Can we assume, then, that you don’t benefit from your wife’s death?” Briggs asked.

  “Financially? No, nor do I need to, especially now. I was quite well off when we met. The apartment is mine, and I made a tidy sum in banking. Felicia spent her money elsewhere.”

  “Where?”

  Briggs hesitated a moment. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t know. She gave generously to a charitable foundation that helps Chinese orphanages.”

  That startled everyone. “Interesting,” Briggs said. “Any particular reason?”

  “Because of her own experience.”

  Josh frowned. “Did she adopt from China?”

  “No, though I believe she would have liked to. It was because of her daughter.”

  “Excuse me?” By all accounts, Felicia was childless.

  “Yes,” Winston said, nodding. “Felicia had a daughter.”

  Chapter 8

  The policemen stared at Winston. “You said she’d been married before,” Briggs said finally, with admirable calmness.

  “She wasn’t.” Winston’s tone was equally calm. “She was young, gentlemen. She had the baby out of wedlock. She considered keeping it, but her parents convinced her otherwise. Nice Catholic girls from Connecticut who were going to Yale simply didn’t do such things.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “So she gave the baby up for adoption?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. She rarely talked about that period in her life, and I didn’t like to ask.”

  “She was your wife.”

  “Some things were off-limits, gentlemen.” He glanced away. “Poor Felicia. She was far more sensitive than people believed.”

  That tallied with what Ari had said, Josh thought. “Then you knew about this?” he asked.

  “No, not until the girl showed up.”

  “When?” Briggs said sharply.

  “Some weeks ago.”

  “Did you meet her?”

  “No. All I know is that she contacted Felicia in some way. Felicia was upset about it.”

  “And you, too, I imagine,” Briggs said shrewdly.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you argue about it?”

  “We had words, yes. Frankly, gentlemen, I don’t care what she did in her youth. But for her to have kept such a secret from me hurt.”

  “Any idea why she did?”

  “She said it was in the past. It was something she didn’t like to think about.” He paused. “I think it hurt her.”

  “In what way?”

  “I don’t think she ever stopped regretting giving up her daughter.”

  “Then was she happy to see the girl again?” Josh said.

  “Not completely. Gentlemen, would you like it if something from your past, something you’d thought was over, suddenly came back to confront you?”

  “No sir, I wouldn’t,” Josh said through stiff lips. “Still, this changes things.”

  Winston shook his head. “If you’re thinking it gives me some kind of motive, it doesn’t. We managed to work things out. In fact, I would have liked to meet the girl.”

  “Would you?” Briggs’s voice was flat.

  “Yes. She was part of Felicia’s life. I loved my wife, gentlemen.” His face twisted. “Poor Felicia. I’m glad she went quickly.”

  “Why is that?”

  He gave them an odd look. “Don’t you know yet? She had cancer, too.”

  Josh, looking at the others, saw that they were as startled by this information as he was. “No,” Detective Briggs said. “We haven’t received the autopsy report yet.”

  “I see. Yes, she was diagnosed a month ago, just after I was. She would have hated it. Hated the indignity.” He looked off into the distance. “This hat.” He tapped his beret. “I wear it to keep my head warm, gentlemen.”

  He’d lost his hair already, Josh thought, feeling a sudden surge of sympathy for both the Barrs. “Was this widely known?”

  “No sir. Felicia wanted to keep it quiet as long as she could.”

  So the killer had not known that her quarry would soon be dead, Josh thought.

  Briggs leaned forward. “Sir, do you have any idea who might have wished your wife dead, or why?” he asked, adopting Winston’s more formal language.

  “None, gentlemen.”

  “We understand that she had enemies,” Charlie said.

  “I’m afraid so. Felicia often rubbed people the wrong way.”

  “We’ve heard that she ruined several people’s careers.”

  “Are you talking about Beth Marley?”

  “Among others, yes.”

  Winston sat back. “Beth still blames Felicia for her downfall.”

  “Shouldn’t she?” Josh said.

  “No. Beth brought it all upon herself. She should consider herself lucky.”

  “In what way?”

  “That she’s not in jail.”

  “Jail.” Briggs leaned forward, sounding as surprised as Josh, and no doubt Charlie, felt. “What do you mean?”

  “Felicia had a reputation for giving good reviews if someone advertised in the magazine.”

  “Is it true?”

  “No. Beth was the one behind that.”

  “In what way?”

  “She knew when someone impressed Felicia and was going to be mentioned favorably. When that happened, she’d call that person about advertising.”

  “Did the people she called know they were getting good press?”

  “She persuaded many to advertise. The magazine grew more prosperous because of that. What we didn’t know is that she hinted that she could ensure a good review if they did advertise. A
nd we didn’t know that she charged extra for that service.”

  “Extra?”

  “Above and beyond the magazine’s rates.”

  “Ah.” Briggs sat back. “She pocketed the difference.”

  “Exactly. She was smart about it. She didn’t make that offer to everyone, and she accepted advertising from people whose work Felicia didn’t like, so there was just enough uncertainty. Still, Felicia got the reputation of accepting payment for good reviews. It was most unfair.”

  “How did you find out about it?” Josh asked.

  “Beth got too greedy. She began to ask for too much money. Finally someone wrote to Felicia complaining about the practice, not knowing that Beth was the one behind it. When Felicia started looking into the matter, she discovered that it had been going on for a long time. It didn’t help that Beth bragged that she was the real power at the magazine.”

  Josh nodded. They’d heard that already, but this financial motive was important news. It was fraud. “Why didn’t you prosecute her?”

  “I wanted to. It was Felicia who held back. Not from any love of Beth, you understand. They’d had their problems before that, and of course these shenanigans were too much. No, she felt it wasn’t worth it. It would have cost more money to sue Beth than she actually took.”

  “But she damaged your wife’s reputation.”

  “True, but even apart from this there were people who disliked Felicia.”

  Now they were getting somewhere, Josh thought. “Can you name anyone?”

  “Oh, many people, but I doubt they’re here.”

  “Let me give you some names,” Briggs said. “Lauren Dubrowski.”

  “Lauren.” Winston appeared to think about that. “Yes, I seem to remember something about her. I believe she lost a chance at a job because of Felicia, or she thought she did. Which of course amounts to the same thing.”

  “Annie Walker.”

  “Who?”

  “She’s one of the vendors here. She told us there’s supposed to be an article about her in the magazine.”

  “Ah, yes, her. I don’t know much about it. You’ll have to ask Debbie.”

  “Will you still keep the magazine going?” Josh asked.