A Sea Oak Mystery Boxed Set

by Adele M Cooper

As rain lashed the house and thunder boomed outside, she walked down the corridor. The study was at the end of the hall. She breathed rapidly as she walked. This would be the biggest story of her career. For that matter, when she retired she would probably look back and say it was biggest story in her journalism life. She put her hand on her heart and breathed deeply. She looked around and saw a few individuals downstairs but no one on the second floor. The door to the study was open. She walked to it and knocked. No answer. Nervously she knocked again.

  “Mr. Woodruff?”

  Outside the wind howled and lightning split the dark, rolling sky. Rain kept hammering against the window, but there was only silence inside the room, preternatural stillness. Cautiously she stepped in. Woodruff sat in front of a large window, his body partially obscured by a large chair. She stepped around the chair and opened her mouth for a greeting. The words stuck on her tongue and she groaned with alarm.

  The elderly man looked peaceful.

  It was astonishing…and eerie.

  Because sticking out of his chest was the ancient poniard, the blade embedded close to his heart.

  A scream rose in her throat but April clasped her hand over her lips. She held it there for a moment then backed out of the room. She stepped quickly to Clay’s room and knocked, then quickly opened it even before he said come in.

  “Clay, we’ve got a problem,” she said.

  “Yes, there’s a hurricane roaring around and we’re stuck here.”

  “No, not that. Woodruff’s dead!”

  His eyes widened as the look of shock spread over his face.

  “Sorry, but he was old…“

  “Not of natural causes. He was murdered. Someone stuck a knife in him.”

  The house shook as a huge thunderclap exploded in the dark skies.

  “Special effects by nature herself,” Clay said. He looked around. “I guess we should…” For a minute the words stood in the air.

  “Do something?” April said.

  Clay nodded. “A good idea.”

  “Why don’t we talk to Evans first? I don’t like thinking of Woodruff sitting in his chair with a dagger in him. Then perhaps call a family meeting….”

  “We really shouldn’t touch anything. The crime scene needs to be preserved, ” Clay said.

  April thought the reserved, dignified Evans would not lose his cool no matter what. And he didn’t. When he saw the body he gasped. Evans found a spare blanket in the closet and covered Woodruff’s body with it.

  “First we have to call a meeting,” April said. “Can you contact all family members and tell them everyone should meet in the living room in ten minutes.”

  “I tried contacting 911 but was unable to get through due to the storm. I suggest we keep trying, say every fifteen minutes. I doubt a patrol car can get out here but we still should try to inform the authorities,” Clay said.

  “I agree. Evans, how many family members are here?”

  “I haven’t counted but I guess there has to be eight to ten family members. The four children are here, as well as several grandchildren. Jed Markatt is also here. He was one of Mr. Woodruff’s closest friends. They had known each other about fifty years. He was invited for dinner. Mr. Woodruff’s attorney, J. Richard Gould, was also asked to come out.”

  “I doubt he’s a suspect. How many attorneys kill their clients,” April said.

  “I will tell all of the guests to come to the living room,“ Evans said.”

  “Don’t tell them why. I will tell them about the murder. And…about the other nasty surprise we have for them,” April said.

  Evans raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean, ma’am?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? No one could have gotten into this house on this day without being invited. People here walked in through the front door. When those nine relatives and one friend walk into the living room those are our suspects. One of them stuck that dagger into Mr. Woodruff.”

  4

  When April and Clay walked into the elegant living room, all eyes turned toward them. She was familiar with the second Mel and Stephen, the middle son. Seated in a shiny chair was Woodruff’s only daughter, Clementine, a short, slightly chubby, middle-aged lady with a pleasant face. She wore a blue business dress. She had the same brown hair of the Woodruffs and had a similar tan as her brother Mel. The chubby, smiling man beside her was her husband Allen Henderson. Paler than his wife, April thought Henderson looked comfortable, at ease with his surroundings. That was difficult to do in the home of the now late multimillionaire Melvin Woodruff. She had been in homes where there wasn’t a speck of dust on the floor and a sofa pillow out of place, but there still was an atmosphere of love. When you walked in you felt the serenity and laughter. There was a different atmosphere in Woodruff’s house. It was a stiff, uneasy atmosphere. An emotional awkwardness permeated the rooms. A small child skipping along the carpet would have seemed out of place. Every man and woman who walked through the front door seemed affected by it, but not Henderson. He showed an amiable smile. April sensed genuine love and affection between him and Clementine. She seemed to remember being told second-Mel’s wife was out of the state for some reason. Maybe in New York City? Stephen’s wife, Janice, was also away. Her mother, who lived in Florida, had taken ill a few days ago. The initial diagnosis was serious but, thankfully, she had been misdiagnosed and later her condition had been upgraded, and was expected to make a full recovery. Janice was expected to return in a few days when her mother recovered.

  Woodruff’s youngest son, Wade, did not look impressive but Tiffany, his blond, statuesque wife did. She wore an orange dress, which fit the contours of her body perfectly. Her shiny long hair came down about three inches below her shoulders. She had a flawless complexion and a slight orange lipstick to match the dress. Her husband, Wade, looked drab beside her. He had dark hair and the tan coloring of several members of the family but it was not a healthy, vibrant tan. His skin merely looked dull and bland. A tanning bed tan rather than one created by the sun. He wore a dark coat and tie. April recalled she had seen a number of new, fancy cars during her comings and goings at the mansion. One she recalled was a new corvette but it was also tan and, she thought, a very unattractive color. It had to be Wade’s car.

  A second woman looked almost as impressive as Tiffany. Lark Woodruff, the daughter of Stephen, had brunette hair, a sweet face and expression. Her tanned skin looked healthier than it did on Wade. She was taller than average, about five-nine. She would have towered over her grandfather. She carried herself with assurance, April thought, but not with arrogance. In fact, she projected not only intelligence but gentleness. Gentleness was not one of the Woodruff’s family traits. The elderly woman beside her was Evelyn Hollister, the youngest sister and sole-surviving sibling of Mamie Woodruff. She walked with a cane and smiled at the crowd. She had silver hair, which matched the silver blouse and skirt she wore. She looked friendly, and like some older people, she looked wise. Her pale eyes appeared to have seen much, not all of it pleasant.

  Jed Markatt did not have the dignity or wisdom of Evelyn Hollister. Lines crisscrossed his face under dark, ugly eyes. Balding, his hair had lost a fierce battle. But bits of white hair were scattered around on his pate disconnected from one another. He dressed well; the gray coat, tie, and pants had been tailored to fit.

  “Who called this meeting and why?” Stephen demanded. “Evans told me to come in here and he refused to tell me why. Knowing Evans, there must be a good reason.”

  April stepped into the middle of the room. “There is. There is no easy way to say this. Mel Woodruff Sr. is dead. He did not die of natural causes. Someone took a dagger from the history room here and stabbed Mr. Woodruff with it, killing him.”

  Gasps and shouts came from assembled family and friends. “Impossible,” someone yelled. “Call the police,” another family member said. “When?” came another cry. April raised her arms. Gradually the din lowered.

  “The police have been called but as
yet we have not been able to get through to the police department or the EMTs. It’s doubtful anyone can get to this house before tomorrow. The storm is fast moving. By tomorrow at this time, or perhaps the morning after, authorities should be here.”

  “What do we do until then?” Clementine said.

  “Simply proceed with our lives,” April said. “I found the body of Mr. Woodruff. I have not met all of you but I am April Longmont, the feature writer for the Sea Oak Daily News. I have been doing a series of interviews with Mr. Woodruff. I was accompanied here by my fiancé Clay Augustine, who is a private detective.”

  “Looks like we need one,” said Henderson.

  “I thought of another question to ask him and I walked into the study. When I did I saw that he had been stabbed. I found Evans and Clay, and here we are.”

  “Wait a minute, how could anyone get into the house and kill our father?” Mel junior said. “And why? I don’t doubt he had enemies, but I think he outlived them all.”

  April turned and looked at him. “No intruder came into the house. That would have been impossible. In fact, Clay and I might have been the last people to enter. No one came in after us.”

  Her words were like an icy stream flowing through the room. Everyone stayed silent for a moment but looked shocked as if cold water penetrated their clothes and skin.

  Mel junior broke the silence. “But that means…”

  “Yes, it does,” Clay said. His already-baritone voice deepened as he spoke. “It means that the murderer is standing in this room. I’m sorry to tell…”

  “Nonsense!” shouted Clementine. “Who in this room would want to kill Daddy?”

  Henderson gave one of his amiable smiles. “Probably almost everybody,” he said. “Pardon for any offense.”

  “That’s idiotic,” Wade said. “We all know he was dying. He couldn’t have lasted a month. Who would kill a dying man?”

  “I might be able to answer that,” April said. “This evening was supposed to be my last interview with Mr. Woodruff. In what was a complete surprise, he asked for one more interview. He was somewhat mysterious but he said he would reveal some secrets in our next session. Maybe somebody didn’t want those secrets revealed.”

  Markatt gave a malicious chuckle. “Always wondered if Melvin would carry his secrets to his grave. Looks like he’s going to although that wasn’t his original plan. People might be shocked at what happened thirty, forty years ago.” He laughed again. “Think the chamber of commerce gave him the “Man of the Decade” award about twenty years ago. I was there. Melvin gave a nice speech. Honey just flowed from him. He didn’t tell the whole story but no one expects the whole story at those kinds of dinners.” He looked around. “Don’t know who would be afraid of it though. Not in this bunch. Most of you weren’t even alive when Mel wheeled and dealed. Women and children had to look out when Mel was operating.”

  “I resent that Mr. Markatt,” Stephen said. “I know you were a friend of my father’s for many, many years, but you have no right to talk about him in that way. Besides, that also means you operated with him with those alleged widows and orphans.”

  “That I did, sonny boy. I guess I have secrets too. Mel had a reputation for being a tough man and a tough negotiator and that reputation was true. Tough and hard at times.”

  “Irrelevant,” Henderson said. “Let’s get back to the subject at hand. We can discuss the reputation of Melvin Woodruff later. We seem to have a murderer in our midst, and we’re going to be spending the storm with him.”

  “It’s not proven that one of our guests is a killer,” Mel junior said.

  “Then let’s prove it. Mr. Augustine, you are a private detective, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “In fact I seem to recall you and Ms. Longmont helped the local police solve several murder cases. Didn’t I read a couple of stories about that?”

  “Yes,” Clay said.

  “What are you suggesting, Allen?” Stephen said.

  Henderson leaned back on the sofa. “I suggest we allow Mr. Augustine and his fiancé to do what they have done before very successfully. Find a murderer. Let them detect.” He glanced around the house and stared through a window at the rain and wind outside. “We have nothing else to do. We’re not going anywhere for at least a day, maybe more. They can investigate and see if they can find the killer. I’d be interested to know who killed my father-in-law. Which secret did the killer not want revealed? I’m rather curious.”

  “You always did have an odd sense of humor, Allen,” Wade said.

  “You’re not curious too?”

  “I rather the police handle it.”

  Mel junior stood up. “I agree with Allen. Let’s put the time to good use. No one can stop Mr. Augustine and Ms. Longmont from asking questions if they want to. But no one has to answer them. You can tell them to bug off. But I will answer their questions. I trust others will too. I would like to know who killed my father. I will pay Mr. Augustine and Ms. Longmont for their services. It’s difficult to put a sum on a man’s life but would twenty-five thousand seem fair to you two?”

  “Seems fair to me,” Clay said.

  “Me too,” April said.

  “We were expecting the death of our father soon,” Mel junior said, “but not his murder. So this is something of a shock. I suggest we take some time alone to grieve or celebrate Dad’s life as each of us sees fit, then the two detectives can begin their work. I am curious too. If your theory is true, which it may not be, what secret was worth killing him for? I must admit I’m still wondering if some intruder sneaked into the house and killed Dad. In this weather it would be difficult to sneak in but perhaps difficult to avoid being seen. But it’s a big house so that would not have been impossible. I have an open mind. But I will wait to see what our two detectives come up with.” He looked at the crowd. “Now I shall retire to my old room until dinner.”

  Dinner at the Woodruff mansion was a subdued affair. While the meal and the wine were exceptional, little conversation flowed around the table. It was a dinner of mostly stunned silence and small appetites. The men and women seated around the long dining table only nibbled their food, although several had more than one glass of wine. Mel junior and Stephen drank bourbon. So did Markatt. He drank three glasses before dinner was over. Clementine drank only iced tea. No one was in the mood for dessert. After the plates were taken away Mel junior stood up. Rain crashed on the roof and thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “This may not be a peaceful night. I suggest we retire to our individual rooms or roam around the house. Whatever you like. But be prepared to answer questions. Obviously, those questions may intrude upon sensitive areas. I strongly suggest we all be honest no matter how embarrassing the questions get. April, have you decided who you and Mr. Augustine would like to talk to first?”

  “Mr. Henderson, if he doesn’t mind.”

  She glanced toward him and Henderson nodded.

  “Not at all. I think this was originally my suggestion. I’ll be happy to answer.”

  Mel junior smiled. “Your first interview is with an honest man. Allen can be annoying at times but he is honest.”

  Henderson nodded. “Thank you, Mel.”

  “April, I think the study where you talked to my father would be a perfect room to conduct your investigative interviews too.”

  April stood up, “Then let us proceed.”

  5

  When she, Clay, and Henderson had settled into chairs in the study, Henderson lifted a cigar from beneath his coat.

  “Don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”

  “Not a bit,” Clay said.

  “Couldn’t smoke around the old man. He was in remarkably good health during his life but did have sinus problems from time to time. Cigarette or cigar smoke really bothered him. Don’t see how he stayed friends with Attlee. The guy always smoked those large cigars. He must have smoked eight or ten a day and, surprisingly, he didn’t die of lung cancer, just general meanness. I enjo
y cigars but try to limit my intake.” He stuck one in his mouth and lit it, blowing out smoke.

  “We wanted to talk to you first because you not only know the family, you can give something of an outsider’s view too,” April said.

  “Yes, something of a contradiction. I’ve always been a bit of an outsider inside the family’s walls. One reason for that is I was not dependent on Woodruff’s money. My father made a small fortune, which provided me an income. His fortune was certainly not comparable to my father’s-in-law’s wealth, but neither did I have to depend on Woodruff for money or a job for a living. He could control his children due to his wealth and could influence others. Not me.”

  “Did that make the relationship a conflict at times?”

  “No. Basically we stayed out of one another’s way, at least financially. His businesses did not coincide with mine. Right now I’m into investments. I keep a close eye on the stock market, trust funds, and business opportunities. We got along pretty well. I think Mel sort of liked my humor, which can cross over into sarcasm at times. I got under Mamie’s skin from time to time. I would make jokes about the family, which often upset her. She didn’t want it known but she was a vain woman, and if she thought I was taking digs at her family she didn’t like it, even if the digs were gentle. Clementine, thank goodness, is not like her mother. Clemmie has a great sense of humor and she will laugh with me. If you can’t laugh at yourself occasionally, life is not going to be easy for you.”

  Clay smiled. He liked Henderson. He agreed with Mel junior. The man struck him as honest with a sense of humor. He wondered how much laughter there was in the Woodruff household when the children were growing up.

  “Off the top of your head, can you think of anyone who was rushing to put old man Woodruff in his grave?”

  Henderson blew out gray smoke and answered in a voice that was devoid of humor.

  “No, and that’s what’s puzzling. What secrets could he have divulged, if that was the reason for his murder? One of his old friends, Sam Attlee, was definitely involved in illegal activities up to the point of assaulting men. He got away with it because he was a friend of the police chief. He ran the Ford dealership in Sea Oak for about twenty-five years. He knew cars and he could do engine repairs and body work. He could repair them as well as sell them. It was rumored he had a chop-shop operation in the early days and he had other business interests too. With his agency, there was always a question of two or three cars, which Attlee may have obtained in questionable ways…and the double billing. Little things like that. Attlee was a no-good, worthless human being. He was very crude in conduct too. But, he did have a shrewd intelligence, and those deep-set eyes didn’t miss anything. Woodruff liked him and was a political ally of Attlee, but he never went into any kind of business with the man. I have a hunch my father-in-law knew he could be politically tarnished if he was connected with Attlee in business. If your partner is acting illegally, you’re guilty too. If you were looking for any great secrets from the old man, my first guess would be something he did with Attlee. The problem is, although they voted with one another when they were on the city council, and backed the play of each other, they didn’t sign any contracts together. If Attlee needed a zoning variation to expand his car lot, then of course he got it. He got some city contracts…cars for the police department…things like that. Woodruff got a few city inspectors to look the other way. And even when there was another paper…briefly…in town, he got the city contracts. But I don’t know of any partnerships between the two of them. I don’t doubt if you investigate Attlee’s background there are scandals and crimes galore, but the old man kept a business distance between him and Attlee.”