A Deadly Edition

Home > Mystery > A Deadly Edition > Page 14
A Deadly Edition Page 14

by Victoria Gilbert


  I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest. “But now you wonder if it was her father’s death instead?”

  “It would make more sense, actually. Because I always thought what she said was odd in terms of her husband’s death. That was obviously an accident, but when she talked about a tragedy in her past, she used the word betrayal.”

  “Which would tie in with Selvaggio duping her father, and then allowing him to be accused of buying stolen property.”

  “Exactly.” Richard kissed the top of my head. “Maybe she carried that resentment for years and finally decided to do something about it when she saw Selvaggio again at Kurt’s party.”

  “But wait a minute.” I sat up, dislodging Richard’s arm. “Kurt said Selvaggio just showed up at Highview that day with his assistant. He wasn’t an invited guest. So even if Adele somehow knew everyone Kurt had invited to the party, which I doubt, she couldn’t have known that Selvaggio would be there …” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Except Adele did see Selvaggio before the party, I’m afraid.” I clasped one of Richard’s hands before divulging the information the Nightingale had shared with me about Adele and Selvaggio’s altercation at the bed-and-breakfast. “Maybe he mentioned planning to visit Kurt at Highview the next day?”

  “Possible, but I sure hope not. That wouldn’t look good for Adele,” Richard said, frowning.

  I squeezed his fingers, forcing him to look at me. “I know, but consider this—whoever murdered him had to already possess the poison used to kill him, wouldn’t they? I mean, they’d need to have brought it with them. If Adele simply ran into Selvaggio the day before, how could she have come up with something like a poison solution so fast?”

  “Unless it was something Kurt kept hidden at his house.”

  “He does grow aconite in his garden, so he had access to the original plant material needed to make the poison,” I said. “But how would Adele know that? They’ve been acquainted for many years, but she wasn’t staying at Highview. They’re not that close, according to Adele, so I doubt she knows all his secrets.”

  “Hard to say.” Richard’s gray eyes searched my face. “And, don’t forget—we only have Kurt’s word that Selvaggio showed up uninvited. It’s possible Adele could’ve known he’d be there, from Kurt if not from Selvaggio himself.” He grimaced. “I hate to admit that option, but we can’t discount it.”

  “Is it possible that they were in on it together? Kurt because he wanted to eliminate a rival and Adele for revenge?”

  “Possible, but …” Richard slid his hands from my grasp and rubbed at his jaw. “I have a hard time believing Kurt would be so sloppy. I think if he planned to murder someone, he’d carry out the deed somewhere other than his own property.”

  “I’ve puzzled over that too. But he’s the only one who could’ve had the poison stashed away ahead of time. The only other option is that Adele, or someone else, knew Selvaggio would be at Highview that day and came prepared.”

  “As for someone else …” Richard’s expression brightened. “That isn’t impossible, if you consider the fact that Hugh and Fred Nash were looking into Selvaggio’s business practices as well as Kurt’s.”

  I frowned. “I doubt either of them would kill the man. What would that get them? They wanted to bring him, and maybe Kurt, to justice. Not kill anyone.”

  “But what if they weren’t the only ones keeping tabs on Selvaggio?” Richard jumped to his feet and began to pace. “I mean, he was accused of selling stolen goods in the past. Maybe he was still mixed up with some criminals. They may have been tracking his movements too.”

  “That’s true. He did have a dubious reputation. He could easily have gotten on the bad side of thieves or forgers or other dangerous individuals. Maybe they decided to take him out at the party precisely because there would be so many possible suspects.” I stood up and crossed to Richard, who’d paused beside one of the bookcases that lined the side wall. “As a matter of fact, I ran into a rather suspicious-looking stranger out at Highview on Sunday. A guy who also showed up at the library today.”

  Richard’s brows drew together. “Why were you at Kurt’s house on Sunday?”

  I met his intense stare squarely. “I wanted to ask him a few questions. You were busy with a rehearsal and everyone else was out, so I just thought, why not take the opportunity to track down some more info?”

  “Okay, fine, but why didn’t you tell me anything about this?” Richard took hold of my hands. “I don’t like you keeping secrets from me. Especially when they involve risky situations.”

  “I didn’t think visiting Kurt would be dangerous,” I said, lowering my lashes to veil my eyes.

  “But it sounds like you weren’t right about that. Listen, Amy”—Richard squeezed my fingers, forcing me to look back up at him—“it’s fine that you want to help the authorities with these investigations, but I worry about you getting hurt. It’s happened before, you know, so I hope you understand why I’m concerned. If you’d just waited, you could’ve asked me to go out to Highview with you later that day.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that if I had waited, Kurt might’ve been left lying on the floor for far too long, but thought better of it. “Nothing really drastic happened. There was just a strange man who dashed out of the house right when I arrived, that’s all. He jumped on a motorcycle and drove off without a word to me. Then I simply headed inside and talked briefly with Kurt.”

  “Who wouldn’t tell you who the guy was, I bet.” Richard sighed and dropped my hands. “Okay, I admit this particular incident doesn’t sound too extreme. And I can easily imagine Kurt having visitors who lack manners and are the type of acquaintances he may prefer not to disclose. I know parts of his life are mysterious, if not downright morally questionable.” He tipped up my chin with one finger. “But we’ve talked several times since Sunday. Why didn’t you tell me about this before today?”

  Because Kurt asked me to stay silent, I thought, and then realized how strange that sounded. I didn’t owe Kurt Kendrick more loyalty than Richard. No matter how forcefully he’d demanded it. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I guess. Anyway, after the guy showed up today and gave me his name, I called Brad. So at least the department will be keeping an eye out for him.”

  “Good. Now, how about we drop the discussion of this latest murder?” Richard quirked his eyebrows. “You know I have to leave tomorrow morning for that choreography gig, and I’ll be gone for the rest of the week. I’d rather enjoy the rest of the evening, if you don’t mind.”

  “I think that sounds like a splendid idea,” I said, rising up on my tiptoes to brush his lips with mine.

  As I dropped back down on my heels, Richard swept me up in his arms and kissed me, as he put it, “thoroughly enough to drive all thoughts of murder” from my mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I didn’t get a chance to talk to Aunt Lydia until the following afternoon, a Wednesday. Arriving home after work, I ran upstairs and changed my clothes before grabbing the box containing the mysterious necklace.

  Aunt Lydia was in the sitting room, comfortably ensconced in her favorite armchair with a book open in her lap. She looked up at me over the rims of her reading glasses. “What do you have there, Amy? Looks like a jewelry box. Did Richard give you a gift?”

  “No. Well, it is a gift, just not from Richard. It was stuck in the pile of wedding presents, and we don’t know where it came from. There wasn’t any tag outside or card inside. I thought maybe you’d have some idea.” I crossed over to her chair and popped open the hinged lid of the jewelry box. “See—it looks like an antique.”

  My aunt laid aside her book and lifted the necklace from its silken nest. “It does look old. But I’m afraid I can’t help you. I have no idea where it came from.”

  “Really?” I stared at the gold-framed pendant dangling from the golden chain. “I hoped maybe one of your friends had mentioned sending it. Or maybe gave it to you to hand over to us? It was inside a b
lue box that looked rather old, if that rings any bells.”

  Aunt Lydia coiled the chain and laid the necklace back against the silk. “It doesn’t. Sorry.”

  “Richard thinks someone sent it for me to wear at the wedding. Something old and something blue.”

  “That makes sense, but I must confess my ignorance as to its origins.” Aunt Lydia held out the jewelry box. “Maybe ask Fiona? You know how she loves antiques. It could’ve come from her, or even one of her friends.”

  I took the box from her hand. “I suppose that’s possible. We were just baffled by the fact that it wasn’t wrapped as well as the absence of any sort of card. We don’t even know who to thank.”

  “It probably had a tag that fell off. That’s why I always slip them inside the package,” my aunt said.

  Setting the box on an end table, I flopped down on the suede sofa that faced her chair. “I guess I’ll check with Fiona next time we see her. I can’t think of anyone else to ask. None of my friends are likely to send a gift like that.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Aunt Lydia slipped off her reading glasses and set them on the side table next to her chair. “I suppose I should expect you to join Scott and me for dinner for the rest of the week, since Richard’s out of town?”

  “Until Sunday. He’s supposed to get back late that afternoon.”

  “Which means we won’t see you Sunday evening.” Aunt Lydia stretched out one leg, wiggling her foot in her satin slipper. “Maybe I’ll plan the main meal for after church, then.”

  “I thought you were heading into the city this weekend,” I said, widening my eyes in feigned innocence.

  Aunt Lydia tapped her foot against the multicolored rag rug that covered the hardwood floor. “My plans have changed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I scooted to the edge of the sofa. “You and Hugh seem to be going through a rough patch. Want to talk about it?”

  Aunt Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

  I clasped my knees as I leaned forward. “He really doesn’t plan to reveal any information concerning Uncle Andrew, you know.”

  “What makes you so certain about that?”

  “Because Fred assured Sunny that he, well actually that they, wouldn’t.”

  Aunt Lydia sniffed. “From what you’ve told me about his immediate attraction to her, Fred Nash would tell Sunny anything if he thought it would garner him another date.”

  “Come on, you can’t believe that Hugh would do anything that might hurt you. That’s just not who he is. And there’s no doubt that he loves you.”

  “I’m not sure I know who he is. Not entirely.” Aunt Lydia waved her hand as if tossing something aside. “Embarking on an investigation of Kurt without telling me, for example. Does that sound like love to you?”

  I tightened my lips, remembering my conversation with Richard the evening before and how I’d withheld information from him about my visit to Kurt’s house. “I’m not sure love comes into it in a case like this. It’s part of Hugh’s job to track down illegal art sales and expose the people behind them. He probably just thought of it in terms of his work rather than his relationship to you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Aunt Lydia sighed deeply. “I suppose I may be overreacting …”

  I slumped back against the sofa cushions. “You think?”

  “But I’ve been kept in the dark by someone I loved before.” Aunt Lydia cast a swift glance at her side table, which held family photographs. Including, I knew, one of my late uncle Andrew. “I didn’t press the issue then, even when I had my suspicions that vital information was being kept from me. I swore I wouldn’t ever be so naïve again.”

  “I don’t think this is the same thing.”

  “Maybe not, but I would’ve felt better if Hugh had just told me what he was doing up front. Yes, I might’ve still been upset”—she shrugged her slender shoulders—“but at least I wouldn’t have felt quite so betrayed.”

  I stared at the picture that hung on the opposite wall. A landscape painted by Andrew, it captured the beauty of Aunt Lydia’s garden in a realistic style that still somehow evoked mystery and magic. “The stuff that Uncle Andrew hid from you wasn’t just about his work, though. I mean, he never told you he’d stayed in touch with Kurt, his best friend from his teenage years, either. Hugh hasn’t kept secrets about personal things from you, has he?”

  “Not to my knowledge.” Aunt Lydia’s strained expression relaxed. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I’m dragging issues from the past into the present. Mixing up my feelings about some of Andrew’s behavior with Hugh’s. That probably isn’t fair.” She absently drummed her fingers against the padded arm of her chair. “You know, I heard Andrew speak about the Kelmscott Chaucer once. He just mentioned it in passing, so I never thought about it again until Kurt brought it up at the party.”

  I straightened and sat forward. “Why would Uncle Andrew mention that particular book?”

  Aunt Lydia blinked and raised a hand to wipe one finger under her eye. “Oh, it was really nothing. Andrew just mentioned some legal hassle over one copy of the book. It was a scandal in the art world at the time.”

  “A pretty big one, from what I discovered when doing some research on that edition of the Chaucer. A man named Jasper Brentwood, who purchased the book, was hounded by the press and others after it was suspected that the item had been stolen. His children thought it contributed to his death.”

  “You always need to know more, don’t you?” my aunt said, pulling a tissue from her pocket. “Drat this eye. Got a lash in it or something. Anyway,” she added, dabbing at her eye with the tissue. “The truth is, Andrew didn’t go into any details about the matter. He basically just asked me if I’d heard anything about a lawsuit involving a copy of that book, and when I said I hadn’t, he dropped the whole discussion.” Aunt Lydia finally looked up at me, her expression as calm and collected as ever. “Although he did throw in some remark about the whole thing being blown out of proportion and that if I did hear anything to just ignore it.”

  “Do you think he could’ve been trying to protect Kurt?”

  Crossing her legs at the ankles, Aunt Lydia placed her hands, one over the over, in her lap. Like a prim schoolmarm, I thought.

  “Why would he have needed to do that? I know they stayed friends, and even saw each other from time to time without my knowledge. But I don’t think Andrew would’ve gone out on a limb for Kurt. They weren’t that close.”

  I wasn’t about to contradict her. The truth was, I didn’t really know anything about the relationship my uncle had had with Kurt Kendrick. I knew Kurt had loved Andrew, but that was all. I had no knowledge of how my uncle had truly felt about his childhood friend.

  “I just wondered if Kurt was somehow involved in the sale of the Chaucer to Mr. Brentwood. Sort of a silent partner, with Oscar Selvaggio being the public face of the arrangement.”

  Aunt Lydia straightened in her chair. “You think Kurt killed Selvaggio to keep something like that quiet? But why, after all this time? It doesn’t make sense.”

  There was an eagerness in her tone that made me purse my lips. My aunt was acting a little odd about this Kelmscott Chaucer business. Perhaps it was because it touched too closely on Kurt’s relationship with her late husband? “No, it doesn’t, and I can’t imagine Kurt being that concerned about an old scandal that never really went anywhere. Selvaggio wasn’t even charged with anything, and the lawsuit was thrown out. I mean, even if Oscar Selvaggio was trying to blackmail Kurt …” I shook my head. “It just doesn’t track with Kurt’s character for him to murder someone so publicly, especially over something that happened years ago.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Aunt Lydia’s expression turned thoughtful. “And if Oscar Selvaggio engaged in such questionable business practices over the years, there could’ve been any number of people who wanted him dead. “

  “They’d have to have attended the party, though. That narrows the field,” I said, thinking about
Adele. I didn’t want to mention her connection to Selvaggio to my aunt. Time enough for that if Brad found any solid evidence to link the former dance coach to the crime.

  “True, but not everyone there was a guest,” Aunt Lydia said, her eyes narrowing. “Selvaggio’s assistant, for one. Maybe she had a reason to kill him? I mean, it isn’t unknown for employees to want to murder their bosses, and while she didn’t seem like the vindictive type, you never know.” Aunt Lydia again drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. “And there were also the people Kurt hired in for security, and waiters, and so on. It’s possible one of them could’ve slipped under his radar.”

  “But again, no one knew Oscar Selvaggio would be there,” I said.

  Aunt Lydia tipped her head and studied me for a moment. “Good point, but there’s another possibility. If someone had him under surveillance for some reason, they could’ve easily figured it out. Perhaps he wasn’t that careful about keeping his plans a secret.”

  This meshed with the thoughts I’d had while talking with Richard. I leapt to my feet. “I have to admit that’s the most reasonable explanation. Someone tracking Selvaggio for other crimes could’ve known about his plan to visit Kurt and followed him. Maybe they arranged to get a job working the party.” I used both hands to shove my hair behind my ears. “They could’ve even simply blended in with the guests. There were a lot of people there, and some brought companions I’d never seen before. It could’ve been one of them.”

  “Definitely a possibility,” my aunt said. “Now, I really must get supper together. I know you don’t mind foraging for yourself, but with Scott here …”

  “You mean, he’s a guest and I’m not,” I said, without rancor. “By the way, where is Scott? His car’s parked outside, but I haven’t seen or heard anything from him all this time.”

  “He took a walk. At least, that’s what he told me he planned to do. I suggested the trails through the new park next door to Richard’s house, so I imagine that’s where he went.”

 

‹ Prev