A lethal legacy, p.19
A Lethal Legacy, page 19
“Bracken Silverheels,” Craig said.
“Maybe you need an army.”
“The place is full of holes and twists and turns. One guy who knows what he’s doing is better than an army. Too much weight anywhere, we could cave it all in.”
“Yeah, and frankly, despite what we’re looking for, the NYPD is pretty busy. We don’t have an army. Anyway, I’ll see what I can find on this dead woman.”
“They’ll be working from our offices, too, of course.”
“The more the merrier,” Brice said. “Hell, I’m not expecting any cave-ins on paperwork.”
* * *
“I believe,” Evie said softly, as if sharing a conspiracy with Kieran, “you should watch out for that woman.”
Evie was by the sink, watching as a day maid rinsed plates to slide into the dishwasher.
Kieran had been passing through to the pool area. Bracken Silverheels was out by the supply shed, gathering up more spikes, which he’d told her he used when he needed to crawl up—or down. “When you’re climbing alone, you have to make sure you’ve got coverage to get back out. Or else you could wind up like the woman in that oubliette.”
“Makes sense to me,” she’d told him. Now, she wanted to hang around with him—follow when he headed back to the cave entrance.
But Evie had stopped her.
“You don’t mean the young lady washing the dishes?” Kieran couldn’t help but ask, wide-eyed.
Evie sighed. “I’m speaking out of place. I know that. Finn is an adult. And, in most things, he’s the most responsible man possible. But when it comes to Elayne, I’m worried. I know that Craig loves his cousin—maybe he can do something.”
Was Elayne a gold digger? Or was Evie jealous? Maybe both were true.
But was one of them complicit in murder?
“Evie, I’m afraid I don’t know Elayne well enough.”
“She’s after his money. She’ll hurt him.”
“But as you said, Finn has to make his own decisions.”
“She’s trying to get rid of me,” Evie said. “But I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t believe that Finn will turn on me. I mean, I hope not.”
“Why do you think she’s trying to get rid of you?”
“Ah, well, the things she does. First, she complains about everything. Her room isn’t clean, I’m always around—she says I’m a snoop!”
“How do you know that?”
“I heard her telling him. Look, I know I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I did, but like I said, I know that Finn loves and respects Craig, and I know that—despite Mr. Jamie’s horrendous treatment of Deedee—Craig loves Finn. And a few words from him might make Finn see what...what she’s really up to.”
“What is she really up to?” Kieran asked.
“Marriage—with no prenup!” Evie said.
It might not be ethical, Kieran thought, but it wasn’t criminal. She’d thought that maybe Evie had seen Elayne sneaking around the house, in or out.
“She’s an outrageous flirt,” Evie said. “You should see her with all the captains and boatmen. She loves to sit out on that beach in her teeny bikini and wave at the men when they come in. She’s horrid.”
“She may just like the way she feels in a teeny bikini,” Kieran said.
Evie sighed. “I see you don’t understand. You’re right—you don’t know her well enough. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken.”
Evie turned away, looking distressed.
A dish had gone into the dishwasher without being thoroughly rinsed. Evie snatched it out and ran it under the tap.
“Evie, please, don’t worry. I won’t say anything. I just don’t think that Craig will interfere in his cousin’s love life,” Kieran said. “What do you mean by her...sneaking around?”
Evie nodded. “She’s always in Finn’s office—when he isn’t there. And she’s always quizzing Margie, wanting to know what Frank had done each day. She pretends she cares about Margie—she’s all sweetness and condolence—but I think she knows there’s a major-league treasure out here somewhere. I’d guarantee she’s working on a way to get her hands on it.”
“But no one has found it.”
“She’s plotting to do so. You mark my words,” Evie said.
With a warning wag of her finger, Evie hurried over to the maid who had loaded the dishwasher. She liked to control things; she liked to supervise. But Kieran noticed she wasn’t mean to the young woman. She just showed her how to rinse the dishes properly.
Kieran went on out to the porch and then beyond to the patio and pool.
Danny was in trunks again, between Margie and Elayne, soaking up the sun.
Lazy little brat! she thought.
But as he greeted her, she realized that he was, in his way, working. Kieran didn’t know Elayne or Margie very well. Danny was doing his best to get to know them. He was so easy and casual with conversation. He was doing well.
“What are you up to, sister dear?” he called in a friendly manner.
“Hello, there,” Elayne said.
“Just heading over to chat with Bracken,” Kieran said. “It is a beautiful day. It seemed kind of chilly this morning, but now the sun is lovely.”
“It is. A perfect day,” Elayne said.
She was an attractive woman—and her bikini was teeny weeny. She stood, slender legs scissoring as she swung from her chair to walk over to the serving table to help herself to iced tea. “You should really join us,” Elayne said. Her face wrinkled in a grimace. “It will make you stop thinking about awful corpses and bones and...”
Margie heard her words.
“Dead friends,” she said softly.
“Margie,” Elayne chastised. And she added, “Please, sweetie. We know how badly you’re hurting. We’re trying to make you feel better. The sun helps, right?”
“The sun helps,” Margie said. She sat up and looked at Kieran and smiled. “And Danny is sharing some great stories about the city of New York.”
“He’s good,” Kieran agreed.
Margie smiled and lay back down. Danny gave Kieran a shrugging look. Kieran was about to head on out to the shed when Elayne pulled her back and whispered, “That old bat has been talking to you, right?”
“Pardon?”
“Evie. The woman is a piece of work. She’s so possessive of Finn, it’s pathetic. I guess he’s never been as serious about a woman before—as he is about me. She’s a snoop!”
“Oh?” Kieran said.
It seemed the women had similar opinions of each other.
“She’s horrible. I caught her in our room. Cleaning! Bah. She was going through my things. I know that she was. I mean, what the hell was she doing?”
“Maybe she really was making the bed,” Kieran suggested.
“I told you—she never cleans. She just supervises. She’s looking for something—I don’t know what she thinks she’s going to find!”
“Well, I imagine you two will get along eventually,” Kieran said.
“Elayne!” Margie called suddenly.
Elayne turned to look at Margie.
“What is it, sweetie?” she asked.
“Quit whining about Evie. It’s just going to backfire on you. The woman is an old battle-ax, but she’s basically part of the family. Just let it go—drown her in sweetness.”
Elayne grinned. “You may have a point there. I’ll just be so charming she won’t be able to stand it!” Elayne laughed softly. “She’ll just want to vomit, I’ll be so nauseatingly sweet.”
“There you go,” Kieran said. “That’s a plan. Kill them with kindness.”
Elayne grinned. “Will do,” she promised.
Kieran hurried on to the storage shed. Bracken was explaining to Mike that he was bringing two-by-fours with them to shore up spaces that might be dangerous.
“Seems like that tunnel has been used. Strange, though, Frank was found all the way on the other side of the island. We found the one entry, but there has to be another,” Bracken said.
“Another?” Kieran said. “There may be many! Those satellite maps that Danny managed to get—they show that the cliff is riddled with cave openings. There have to be more entrances.”
“Bracken was thinking of walking up the cliff today—heading to the area where it was assumed Frank Landon went down...and where the bank robbers were found,” Mike said. He looked toward the group by the pool to determine that they were out of earshot. “I just talked to Egan. They’re taking the exhumed bodies back to the morgue.”
“Good,” she murmured. “If you’re walking up the cliffs, I’ll come with you,” she told Bracken.
“I move fast.”
“I’ll keep up, I swear.”
He studied her for a long moment. He was weighing the risks. She was certain that he knew she’d been involved in a number of cases Craig and Mike had worked.
Under his scrutiny, she felt extremely glad that she hadn’t let her scream out the other day when she had found the corpse.
“Sure. I won’t be going into the caves anywhere.”
“I’d planned on staying here, watching over you and Danny,” Mike said to Kieran.
“Watch over Danny—I’ll go with Bracken.”
Mike looked at her. He didn’t speak aloud. His look was enough. Not sure it’s a good idea. Craig might not like it.
“You got hiking boots on?” he asked.
“Trail sneakers,” she told him.
“All right, let’s go,” Bracken said.
She nodded.
She paused to whisper to Mike. “Don’t worry! Craig knows full well what I’m going to do. And I’m just walking. With an expert.” She hesitated, smiling. “I’m leaving you with the dangerous people. Two vicious women. Take extreme care!”
Mike groaned.
Kieran hurried off after Bracken.
* * *
Craig was about to board the police patrol boat that would take him back to the island when his phone rang.
To his surprise, it was Jenny Stratton.
“Mrs. Stratton, thank you so much for calling,” he said. He could only assume that she had found something that might be of importance.
“Of course, my pleasure. I’d told my husband what was going on, and he helped me go through my dad’s letters. I have a couple that might be of some help to you,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“But I don’t know how to get the letters to you.”
Craig glanced at Detective Brice, who was watching him with curiosity. “Actually, I’m with the New York City detective in charge of Frank Landon’s case. I believe we can both see you now, if that’s all right.”
Brice nodded.
“Different direction, boys!” he told the officers on the boat.
He and Brice boarded. After a moment, as the boat pulled from the dock, Brice said, “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For not pretending that no one was on the phone.”
“It’s a joint investigation,” Craig said.
“I’ve worked with other law enforcement agencies when it doesn’t go so well. So, thank you.”
“Not a problem. We’re both working toward the same goal, right?”
“Right,” Brice said. He was quiet, watching the island grow small for a minute. Then he said, “No, not really. You care about the dead man. I want to know what the hell happened with the goods stolen during that bank robbery. Which, eventually, is the same thing—but honestly, we are coming at it from different directions.”
Craig laughed. “That’s all right. Hopefully we’ll both get what we want in the end.”
Despite police assistance, it was a trip getting from the island to Long Island, Brooklyn and then over to Manhattan. But this time Jenny Stratton and her husband, Roald—a tall, grave man a good two decades older than his wife—were waiting at their apartment.
It was a handsome place, well-appointed and large—certainly for New York City. Two children were there, the little boy Craig had already met, and an older girl of about six—who had been at her dance lessons the day before. A young nanny took the kids off to play.
Roald Stratton showed them to his office and invited them to sit in a pair of chairs in front of his desk. Jenny perched on the edge of the hefty desk, while Roald took his own leather chair. Roald Stratton was apparently a corporate lawyer who did some of his business from home.
“We try not to live in the past,” Roald Stratton said. “Jenny’s history has basically been erased, and anyone looking her up for any reason only finds what the powers that be have created for her. She was never involved in any criminal activity.”
“Neither was my mother,” Jenny said. “She stayed away. My father conducted his business in New York.”
“We understand that,” Brice said. “We’re here because we’re hoping for help.”
“You’re here because we did find something.” Roald passed a letter across the table. It was worn with folds.
“I used to read his letters over and over,” Jenny explained. “I wanted to be grateful that I did have a father, and I wanted to believe, that underneath it all, he was a good man.”
“In his way, sweetheart, he was,” her husband assured her. He looked back at Craig. “I believe the man was terribly lonely, and while his daughter was young—in her early teens at the time—he poured out everything to her. I guess she was all that he had.”
Craig didn’t know enough to judge. He offered a quick smile and accepted the letter Jenny handed him.
Brice read over his shoulder.
Alphonse Cantorelli had apparently tried to amuse his daughter with his letters. He spoke about Templeton and Borden—in the next cell from his—as if they were a pair of dumb comedians. He referred to them as “Itch” and “Scratch.” Cantorelli had written:
Bumbling idiots. Itch was almost hit with a shiv today; I figured I’d save the sorry bastard. My mistake—he and his cohort immediately began planning revenge, instead of kowtowing to the Brotherhood. But then again, they’re out soon. Saw them making plans with a woman; she visited now and then. Poor thing. They both talk about her as if she were a pet dog—to be owned by two different owners. Thing I don’t get is, I think she wants something out of them. They were talking about an island; that much I heard. Itch told me later that they were planning a major heist—and that it would go well, thanks to the fact that they’d known me. I told the little bastard he’d better not ever thank me for any horrendous foolhardy thing that he did. My ethics might be skewed, but I have them. All Itch did was laugh. “Old Man,” he said, “you don’t know. Them that can’t do, they say, teach!” Thought about having the little bastard shivved myself, but I’ve been seeing my priest, and I’m on the Great Road to Heaven or Hell, so... I wanted to tell that poor girl not to trust them, but all I knew was that her name was Angel or Angela or something like that. Anyway, love you so much. Trust that I am seeing my priest, and that I am happy enough, loving your letters, seeing your beautiful pictures when you send them!
Dad
“I don’t know if that helps you or not,” Jenny said. “But Itch and Scratch were the bank robbers, he refers to them by their real names in another letter that just states they were the new men in the cell next to his.”
Angela. Angie.
“I can’t tell you how much you have helped us,” Craig told her.
“Tremendously,” Brice said quietly.
“Perhaps you can find this woman,” Roald said.
Craig just nodded; Brice was waiting for him to speak. The news would be out soon enough—he decided to tell the truth.
“We already found her,” he said softly.
“She’s...she’s in the morgue,” Brice explained. “She was killed around the same time as the robbers.”
“Oh, no!” Jenny said. “Well, oh dear. I thought this might help.”
“It does help,” Craig assured her.
“But...she’s already dead.”
“‘He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword,’” her husband quoted softly.
Out on the street, Brice sighed. “So. We know our victim, and we know that she was involved with the robbers. They probably did throw her down that oubliette—before they met their own fate. Do you think it’s possible that the idiots did bury their treasure and then just fall?”
“No.”
Brice gave him a grudging smile. “Well, you are not iffy on that point.”
“No, I’m not. Frank Landon was killed. Those bank robbers were killed. Someone has been out on that island, and I’m going to find out who and why.”
“Good,” Brice said.
“We’ll be digging around again tomorrow,” Craig told Brice. “Naturally, you are invited to join us.”
“That I may,” Brice told him. “For now, what can I do for you?”
“Get me back to Douglas Island,” Craig said. “We’re hosting a very strange dinner party tonight. I’m extremely anxious to see just how it goes. You’re welcome to attend.”
“Who else is coming?” Brice asked.
“John Smith, scholar, and Jay Harding, theorist on ancient aliens.”
Brice waved a hand in the air. “I’m going to go back to my office to hit every record to see if I can find out more about Angie Tremaine. I’ll let you handle that...interesting...dinner.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thursday afternoon
KIERAN CONSIDERED HERSELF to be healthy and physically fit.
But keeping up with Agent Silverheels was no easy feat. She forced a smile every time he looked back to make sure she was okay.
When they reached the top of the cliffs, he stood there for a long moment. She didn’t go to the absolute summit; only one person could safely fit—and safe was a term that only applied loosely when it came to the cliff.
