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Authors: Ann Waldron

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BOOK: A Rare Murder In Princeton
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“Surely there wasn’t more stolen from Litzenburg,” said McLeod.
“I’m not sure how much Vincent brought home,” said Amelia. “But anyway—”
“Wait a minute,” said McLeod. “Who broke into our house looking for the treasure?”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know. Until last night—that’s when I began to think it was Buster. Was it you?”
“No, it wasn’t I,” said Amelia. “And it wasn’t Buster. You see, I told Mary Murray what Dante had told me and she broke into the house.”
“Mary Murray! She told me she didn’t know about any treasure, as I called it,” said McLeod.
“Of course she’d say that,” said Amelia. “She’s known about it forever.”
“I’m always astonished when people lie to me,” said McLeod. “But Mary did, and Dante did. He told me he hadn’t told anybody about the box of dresses.”
“I’m sure Dante told everybody in town,” said Amelia. “But it was Mary who went in the house on Edgehill. She thought that she and Little Big were entitled to half of Vincent’s things. And then she went to your office when Dante told her you had taken the dresses to the university. A lot of people think Mary is mousy, but she’s not.”
“And I thought it was you or Buster—”
“Think about it,” said Amelia. “Buster had the stuff in his hands before your office was burgled. He knew where it was by that time. Mary didn’t.”
“But Mary seemed so ignorant all the time.”
“She can seem that way.”
“She certainly doesn’t seem like somebody who could break into Joseph Henry House and jimmy a file drawer lock.”
“Joseph Henry House was unlocked,” said Amelia.
“How did you know all this?”
“Mary told me what she did. We’re friends, as well as cousins-in-law.”
“Could you stay with them for a while?” McLeod was worried about this woman, who seemed so alone.
“Sure I could. But I’m all right, I really am.” She cut herself another small sliver of cake and ate it. “Buster told me about it as soon as you brought the
Gospels
to Rare Books. We knew immediately it must be one of the things Vincent had found in Germany. Buster was surprised, I must say, to find out they were stolen. As I said, Vincent always said he found them in the gutter.”
“Was Jill Murray killed because of the
Gospels
and the crucifix and the reliquary?”
“Of course she was.”
“Who did it? Was it Buster?”
“Heavens, no. I’m sure it was my father.”
McLeod looked at her, and pity surged. Here was a woman, an attractive woman, a woman who went to church—and her husband was accused of two murders and she calmly said her father had done another.
Amelia seemed to read her mind. “I’ve wondered today if it’s me, something about me, that makes men murder. Not that I’m a femme fatale, far from it, but am I a really bad influence?”
“Of course not,” said McLeod firmly. “Of course not. And are you sure it was your father?”
“He never said he did it,” said Amelia. “The police never suspected him. He had an alibi. But he had a terrible temper, and it got worse after Jill died.”
“Who was his alibi?” asked McLeod.
“I was,” said Amelia.
“You were?”
“He asked me to tell the police he was with me that afternoon. We were together for a little while that day, but not for as long as I told the police. What could I do? He was my father. It wouldn’t bring Jill back if he were convicted. And God forgives everything—why shouldn’t I?”
Thirty-seven
GEORGE WAS HOME early that evening.
“I’m sorry you’re going out,” he said when he found out she and Nick were going to dinner.
“I’ll be back,” McLeod said. “Don’t worry.”
George greeted Nick warmly when he arrived and suggested they all have a drink. They had martinis and talked about the murders—naturally.
“Okay, you had evidence that Buster killed Chester,” said McLeod. “What about Philip Sheridan? Were Buster’s fingerprints on the paper knife?”
“His and everybody else’s,” said Nick. “Everybody that came in that office must have picked up that knife and fiddled with it. But we suspected him and you gave us the motive. Thanks.”
“But what about Chester? Why did Buster kill him?”
“Chester knew everything. He knew about Sheridan wanting to change his will and after a while he figured out that Keaton had done the murder. He tried a little blackmail—or Keaton thought he was trying to blackmail him—and that was enough to set Keaton off again. He was half mad by that time.”
“But what about the treasure?” asked George. “Does it have any connection with the murders at the university?”
“Not as far as we know,” said Nick. “The murders of Sheridan and Holmes were all about the fact that the
Bay Psalm Book
might go to some place besides Princeton.”
“Did the old murder in this house have anything to do with the treasure?” asked George.
“It might have. We’ll reactivate the Jill Murray case,” said Nick. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
“What if the murderer is dead?” asked McLeod.
“It would be good to know who the murderer was, alive or dead,” said Nick.
“This is just a theoretical question,” said McLeod. “What if somebody had given the murderer a false alibi and the murderer is dead, would that witness be prosecuted now?”
“I can’t say offhand,” said Nick. “It would be nice to know who that murderer was.”
Someday, I might tell him, thought McLeod.
When she and Nick left for dinner, George seemed rather forlorn. “I won’t be long,” she told him.
Recipes
Pork Chop, Apple, and Sweet Potato Casserole
6 loin pork chops
1/4 cup vegetable oil
4 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced
3 medium tart apples, peeled, cored, and sliced
1/2 cup apple juice.
Preheat oven to 350°. Grease a large casserole and set aside.
 
Salt and pepper the pork chops. Heat the oil in a heavy skillet; brown the pork chops in the skillet and place in the casserole.
 
Layer half the sweet potatoes over the chops, then layer half the apples. Repeat, seasoning each layer with salt and pepper. Pour the apple juice over the top. Cover and bake until the chops are tender, about 1 1/4 hours. Uncover and bake, allowing the pork chops to brown for about 15 minutes.
 
Serves 6.
Chocolate Mousse
6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate bits
4 organic or pasteurized eggs, separated
1 teaspoon sherry
Melt chocolate bits. Beat egg yolks until pale and lemon-colored. Slowly stir in the chocolate and blend well. Beat the egg whites until stiff. Add a third of the whites to the yolks and chocolate, add the sherry, mix well. Fold in the remaining whites. Spoon into a serving bowl. Cover and chill at least 8 hours before serving.
 
Serves 4.
Scallop Soup
4 tablespoons olive oil
6 shallots, chopped
1/2 fennel bulb, chopped
1/2 pound mushrooms, chopped
1 pound scallops
1/4 pound spinach
1 can boiled potatoes
1 cup clam juice
1 cup white wine
2 cups water
1/8 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
few threads saffron
Heat oil, add shallots, fennel, and mushrooms, and cook 7 minutes. Add other ingredients, bring to boil, reduce heat, and simmer 3 to 4 minutes.
 
Serves 3 or 4. Double for 6.
Berkley Prime Crime Titles by Ann Waldron
 
A RARE MURDER IN PRINCETON
UNHOLY DEATH IN PRINCETON
DEATH OF A PRINCETON PRESIDENT
THE PRINCETON MURDERS
THE PRINCETON IMPOSTOR
 
 
Biographies
 
EUDORA: A WRITER’SLIFE
CLOSE CONNECTIONS: CAROLINE
GORDON AND THE SOUTHERN RENAISSANCE
HODDING CARTER: THE RECONSTRUCTION OF A RACIST
 
Children’s Books
 
GOYA
MONET
TRUE OR FALSE? THE DETECTION OF ART FORGERIES
THE BLUEBERRY COLLECTION
THE FRENCH DETECTION
SCAREDY CAT
THE LUCKIE STAR
THE INTEGRATION OF MARY-LARKIN THORNHILL
THE HOUSE ON PENDLETON BLOCK
BOOK: A Rare Murder In Princeton
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