Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay (34 page)

“He was already headed over here,” she informed Ross. “It appears Kris Bagley was caught red-handed with your mother’
s bracelet.”

FORTY

Within minutes, the sound of gravel crunching under the tires of two vehicles could be heard as they pulled up and parked in front of the house. Ross opened the door of his study just as Helen reached for the front door handle with her free hand, balancing a tray with a French press and a china cup and saucer on the other. Before she knew what was happening, two uniformed officers stepped into the foyer, one relieving the housekeeper of her task while the other placed cuffs around
her wrists.

“Helen Bagley, you are under the arrest for grand larceny,” Slovitch said, holding up his badge as he began reciting the
Miranda warning.

“How could you do this?” Ross screamed, charging down the hallway toward his housekeeper. “Did you kill my mother because she caught you stealing? Answer me! Did you kill my mother?”

Helen’s wordless expression of shock and fear betrayed her guilt. Before anyone could stop him, Ross backhanded her across the face. Helen gasped at the sudden attack and the venom with which it was delivered. Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook with indignity at being humiliated and restrained like a common criminal. Detective Slovitch pulled Ross away from her and swung him across the foyer.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Slovitch continued. “Anything you say may be used in evidence against you in a court of law. Do you understand?” Helen
nodded morosely.

“After all I’ve given you, after all the years I’ve supported you and your worthless son,” Ross spat as he recovered his balance, “you thank me by killing my mother?” Slovitch interrupted himself once more and motioned for the officers to take Helen to the car.

“No, no—not yet,” Ross said, backing up slightly as Slovitch tried to keep him at bay. “I’ve got to hear from this monster why she did this to me,” Ross insisted, all semblance of self-control gone. “Why? Why did you kill her?” Ross beseeched her as tears streamed down
his face.

The muscles in Helen’s jaws clinched as she strained to keep from crying. “I never planned to hurt Vivian,” she said as tears began to trickle down her face. “But she figured out I was the one who took her jewelry,” she continued, shooting a look of pure loathing at Madeline. “She wanted me to return the pieces, but I couldn’t do that. They were already gone.” Helen hung her head for a moment as she mustered what was left of her pride. “She was going to tell you, and I couldn’t bear that.” Helen sniffed back her tears and looked dejectedly
at Ross.

“But why did you steal from her? I pay you two-hundred grand a year! If you needed more money, you could’ve come to me,” Ross said plaintively, as though he could renegotiate the past. “Her life was worth more than a few pieces of jewelry…” his voice trailed off as he stared at Helen. Contempt took the place of grief as the reality of his betrayal sank in. As his features hardened, so did Helen’s. She pulled herself up to her full height, her face contorted by a
condescending sneer.

“What did you ever care for any of us?” she hissed. “You threw Linda and your girls away just as you did with Kris. And when you couldn’t deal with your current bimbo wife, you brought your mother in to take your place. Is it really any surprise that your egocentric, self-serving existence has come back to haunt you? What did you expect when you treat people like they’re disposable commodities?”

The blood drained out of Ross’s face while he listened to Helen’s tirade. The rancor in her voice seemed to pierce his heart. He slumped against the banister as Detective Slovitch gave a nod to the patrolmen to escort Helen out
the door.

“The bracelet Kris Bagley was caught trying to hock was recovered,” Slovitch said, directing his report to Ross. “The LAPD is going to put out a search for the other pieces. If you have photos, send them to me and I’ll pass
them along.”

Reaching the zenith of his emotional endurance, Ross staggered down the hallway to his study. Madeline hurried to catch up with the detective as he walked out the door.

“I believe Helen is also responsible for Teresa’s murder,” she said, keeping a wary eye on the disgraced housekeeper. “I think the coroner will find her wound consistent with a knife taken from the caterer’s sous chef the night of the party. I can find out exactly what type of knife it was and let you know. If we’re really lucky, there might be some video footage of her going into the kitchen with Teresa in tow.” Slovitch regarded her for
a moment.

“You seem to have a knack for this, don’t you?” he said, catching Madeline off-guard with the unexpected compliment. The detective left her standing there as she absorbed the ramifications of all that had just transpired. She turned away as the patrol cars headed for the exit, not wishing to see that malevolent
face again.

She went back inside and encountered Alice, who was still standing in the foyer, rooted to the spot by the shock of what had transpired. They regarded each other resignedly, both wrung out by the drama they had just witnessed and the awkwardness of being the last two people standing among the ashes.

“Thank you for coming, Alice. Things will never be the same in this house, but at least Cherie will be coming home. I’m sure she’ll need your help now more than ever.”

Alice wiped the corners of her eyes and sniffed back the tears. She tried to smile but the gravity of the losses to the Alexander household made it hard to shake the deep sadness she felt. She crumpled into sobs as Madeline put her arms
around her.

Elaine and one of the other domestics appeared in the hallway off the kitchen. They came forward, their cautious footfalls mirroring
their trepidation.

“What happened now?” Elaine asked as she peeked out the doorway at the departing police vehicles. It was certainly a fair question, after all the horrific surprises of the last
two days.

“Helen was just arrested for stealing from Miss Story. She also admitted to killing her.” Madeline said, causing both girls to gasp. There was no point in sugarcoating it; the house staff no longer had a leader and the family they served was too wounded to take charge. “It will fall to you, Elaine, to take over Helen’s duties for now. Cherie is out of danger and will be coming home. That’s the good news.” Having done all she could, Madeline left Alice with the others
to commiserate.

She found Ross in his study throwing back the contents of a highball glass. She stood in the doorway, her shoulder braced against the jamb. A drink sounded awfully good to her, but so did getting as far away from the Alexander estate
as possible.

“Thank you,” Ross said, his gaze dropping back to his empty glass. Madeline nodded. It belatedly hit her that she had solved her first case under her own license, and she was sure it was one she’d never forget. Now that Helen had admitted to killing Vivian, Madeline had no doubt she was responsible for Teresa’s murder, too. But proving that was out of her hands. The police and the D.A. would have to work that out.

“Do you think Helen’s responsible for that girl’s death?” Ross asked, picking up on
her thoughts.

“I do. Now that we know Helen committed the robberies and the first murder, it stands to reason she viewed Teresa as a liability. After going to such lengths, I don’t think Helen was willing to take any chances. Teresa could’ve walked in and caught Helen in the act, or your mother could’ve confided her suspicions to her earlier. Or maybe the girl was ignorant of both and just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. We may never know. It’s a tragedy, either way,” Madeline said, pushing herself away from the doorway to retrieve her handbag. She hadn’t felt this emotionally and physically exhausted in years. By the looks of him, neither
had Ross.

“Is there anything else I can do before I go?” she asked. The thought of Madeline leaving seemed to jar Ross back to
the present.

“I guess I need to settle up with you,” he said, taking a key from his pocket to unlock a desk drawer. Madeline was so surprised by the gesture, she
almost laughed.

“Oh, no—don’t worry about that now,” she said, waving her hands as if to erase the idea. “That can wait. Right now, you need to let Cherie know she’s in the clear and she’ll be home soon. And hopefully you can get some rest!” she said, her voice betraying the lightheartedness she was starting to feel. The nightmare was over, and both she and Ross could sense it now. She smiled at him and turned
to go.

“Madeline, I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” Ross said. She
nodded sagely.

“It’s all part of the job,” she said, making them both twitter with delirious fatigue.

She was relieved not to find anyone loitering in the foyer. She let herself out, hoping it would be the last time she passed over
that threshold.

Madeline had just cleared the mob scene outside the gates when her cell
phone rang.

“Good work, partner,” she said, her face now beaming
with pride.

“Same to you, partner,”
Mike replied.

“They just took Helen away in handcuffs. Ross went ballistic on her and she pretty much admitted to Vivian’
s murder.”

“Awesome. I can’t believe it’s over,” Mike said, his voice jubilant.

“I know. I’m still trying to absorb it all. I’m so glad you dug around in Kris Bagley’s patch. Great instincts, Mike.”

“You’re the captain. I was just covering all
the angles.”

“Well, we couldn’t have nailed Helen so quickly if you hadn’t. Hell, we might not have nailed her at all,” Madeline said as she turned onto East Valley Road. “Oh, remember when we picked up the goodies from Philippe, I heard him scolding one of his sous chefs for misplacing his knife. I believe Helen used it to slit Teresa’
s throat.”

“Oh, God. Sick. But you’re right—that would’ve been a way to cover her tracks. She’s one cold-
blooded woman.”

“Tell me about it. Ross is devastated. Hers was a betrayal of the
worst order.”

“You’re not kidding. To think you know someone for two decades, only to find out that person’s really a demon,” Mike sympathized. The line went quiet for a moment while they each processed the significance of having solved a
murder case.

“Where are you now?”
Madeline asked.

“I’ve just left Reseda, headed back up. How
about you?”

“I just left Ross. I’m going to get something to eat before I
pass out.”

“I’m going to stop on the road somewhere. Are you headed home
after that?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’m totally whipped, but I think I want to write up my notes for the file first. That way I can collapse knowing this whole nightmare case is over and done with,”
Madeline said.

“Amen to that. I guess I’ll meet you at the office, then.”

“Mike, I think this calls for a
proper celebration.”

“I couldn’t agree more, partner. See ya later!”

Madeline smiled to herself as she came to a stop at the intersection at Hot Springs Road. She made a mental note to pick up a half bottle of Champagne.
Better make it a full bottle,
she amended. After what she’d been through, she wouldn’t have any problem polishing it off
by herself.

She was idly wondering where she might find some caviar to go with the Champagne when her cell phone rang again. Figuring it was Mike—probably on the same food wavelength—she picked up the phone. Instead of Mike’s photo, she saw Lauren’s eager face. She set the phone down like it was radioactive, then quarreled with herself for being such an unforgiving bitch. She took the call right before it went
to voicemail.

“Hi Lauren,” Madeline said, trying not to sound too cheery. She was still upset with her assistant for her lack of professionalism. Whether Vivian’s life could’ve been spared if Lauren hadn’t been so high on star contact was something they would never know. If they hadn’t just wrapped up this case, she certainly would’ve been in no mood to speak with her. As it stood, Madeline figured it would cost her nothing at this juncture to be magnanimous.

“Hello, Madeline.”

Madeline’s heart stopped. For one long, horrible moment her body went into shock along with her mind. Fortunately, the road was straight and the speed limit low. Still, it was all she could do to remember how
to drive.

“It’s been a long time,” Lionel Usherwood said, the distinctive English accent he had held onto since childhood sending ripples of gooseflesh from head to toe. “What’s wrong, Madeline—cat got
your tongue?”

“What do you want?”
Madeline croaked.

“That’s the spirit. Listen very carefully and do not deviate from my orders and your lovely young assistant might live through
the day.”