For Every Evil (33 page)

“You didn’t see anyone outside?”

“No one.”

“Hale didn’t say anything about why he wanted you to leave — why he took out the gun?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Sophie wasn’t sure how much to believe. “Have you talked to the police about any of this?”

“Yes … some of it. The day after the tragedy occurred. But” — he paused, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his forehead — “I didn’t fill in all the details, if you know what I mean.”

“We couldn’t have that.”

“No,” he said, pursing his lips. “We couldn’t.”

“You know, Charles, you had an awfully good motive for Hale’s murder.”

“Funny, that beefy police detective said the same thing. Yet, if it’s so great, why haven’t I heard from them since?”

Good question, thought Sophie. “Perhaps they’re gathering their case.”

“Perhaps.” His hand shook slightly as he stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket.

“Well,” said Sophie, patting his knee, “if you need character witnesses, don’t forget me.”

He gave her a sick smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. And don’t get up. I’ll show myself out.”

“You’re too kind.”

“I know. See you in court.”

As Sophie made her way outside to her car, she noticed Ivy waving at her from the bay of the mansion’s dining room window. Sophie waved back. When Ivy pointed to the front door, continuing to wave, Sophie realized she was being summoned inside. She moved quickly around the side of the house.

Ivy was waiting for her when she got to the front door. “Good morning,” she said, her expression troubled. “I hoped you might have a few minutes to talk.”

“Sure,” replied Sophie, stepping into the foyer. Ivy looked positively wired this morning, her eyes jumping from one object to the next as she led the way to the kitchen. Sophie wondered if she was on something — compliments of Max.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Ivy. “I just made a pot.”

“That sounds great.”

“I noticed you come out of the gate house. Were you visiting Charles?” She kept her voice carefully neutral.

“I was.” Sophie thought it was best to keep her reasons for the visit to herself. “I had to talk to him about some back issues of the magazine.”

“Oh, right. He was the editor of
Squires Magazine
for a while.”

As Sophie got comfortable at the kitchen table she noticed a German chocolate cake on the far end of one counter. She wondered if it was going to be served tonight at Max and Ivy’s dinner for Betty Malmquist. Sophie wasn’t entirely convinced the dinner was a good idea.

Ivy finished preparing the tray with cream, sugar, cups and saucers, and a plate of cookies. Carefully lifting the teapot onto it, she approached the table, following Sophie’s gaze to the cake. “It sort of screams cholesterol at you, doesn’t it? It’s Max’s favorite. I’ve planned a German dinner tonight. I’ve had the sauerbraten marinating since yesterday afternoon.”

“You know, I’m curious.” Sophie waited while Ivy poured.

“About what?”

“Why did you really invite Betty here tonight?”

Ivy sat down, covering her discomfort with a thoughtful frown. “Mainly curiosity, I guess. I haven’t talked to her in years, not since she stopped walking her dog past the house. I was astonished to find Hale had kept up the … relationship.” She shook her head in a kind of perplexed reverie as she stirred cream into her tea.

“But Max mentioned yesterday you were going to try to convince her to go to the police with what she found in the bottom of that sack. The rifle shells, Lasix, and bottle of arsenic.”

Once again, her expression became uneasy. “Yes, well that, too.”

Clearly she wasn’t comfortable with the subject. Sophie decided to try the direct approach. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a sip from her cup. The tea was good. Most probably Indian.

“Oh. There was something, yes.” Rising from her chair, Ivy moved to the sink. She seemed to have too much nervous energy to remain seated. Keeping her back to the table, she said, “I don’t know how to begin this, Sophie, but … I’ve done something … stupid. I need to talk about it — to ask for an opinion.” She looked out the window, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t keep it inside any longer. I thought about going to confession at St. Jude’s this morning, but I haven’t been to church in so many years, it has no meaning for me anymore.” She hesitated, turning around. “Maybe you can give me some advice. You know everyone involved. To be honest, you’re one of the few people left I can trust.”

Sophie was flattered. She was also amazed at her good luck. Here they were, alone in the house — no Max calling the shots. Maybe she’d finally find out what Ivy was so nervous about yesterday. “Advice?”

“First, you have to understand” — she fidgeted with the wisps of hair that had fallen out of her bun — “I’ve been terribly unhappy in my marriage for a very long time. I’m not the kind of woman who deals well with being alone. That’s why, a little more than a year ago, I became involved with … another man.”

“You mean Max,” said Sophie.

Ivy looked surprised. “Is it that obvious?”

“Sorry.” She shrugged.

Ivy returned to the table. “I’ve never had a relationship like it before. At first it was wonderful. I was head over heels in love. But now …” She paused, her voice dropping to a more confidential tone. “How can I put this without sounding paranoid? I’m beginning to worry about… the intensity of his feelings. Max has become obsessed with me. He’s horribly jealous. He doesn’t even want me talking to Louie — and you know how long
we’ve
been friends.”

Sophie had guessed it was something like that Max did seem to be heavily into control.

“It’s difficult to admit, but I’m almost frightened of him.”

“You think he’d hurt you?”

“Well, no.” She said it too quickly. “Not in my more sane moments.”

Sophie could sense her ambivalence. “You know, when we met yesterday, I had the impression he was blaming you for something.”

Her eyes fell to her lap. “He is. You have to understand how this all started. It began as a joke. Just a silly game. Sometimes Max and I would sit around in the evenings and fantasize about what it would be like to have all of Hale’s money. Usually Max was drinking. We’d talk about what we’d buy — where we’d live. Max knows about a tiny island close to Jamaica. He talked about buying it living there together, building a house.”

“But as a surgeon, he must do pretty well for himself.”

She shook her head. “He’s never been able to hang on to a dime. He spends money as fast as he makes it Now that he’s approaching retirement age, his financial future is beginning to worry him.”

Another obsession? wondered Sophie.

“That’s when he got this idea.” Ivy leaned into the table, lowering her head. “I’m so ashamed.”

Sophie gave her some time, knowing the conversation was a hard one. “What idea?” she asked finally.

“Max wanted to fake several attempts on my life and frame Hale for them.” She searched Sophie’s face for signs of reproach. “I know what we did was wrong. And I don’t mean to suggest that he twisted my arm in some way. I wanted Hale out of my life as much as he did. I wanted my share of the money, too, which Hale completely controlled. My God, I’d put the man through school! Supported him for years while he was making a name for himself. I even wrote that column for him.”

“The one in the newspaper?”

She nodded. “And for all that, I got nothing. Nothing but a worthless MRS. in front of my name. If he’d gone to jail, I would have taken over IAI!”

Sophie was almost speechless. “You really hated him that much?”

“More,” said Ivy.

“And if he died, you would control IAI forever.”

“No!” She nearly knocked the cream pitcher off the table. “That was never part of it! As much as I hated him, I would never have done anything like that!”

“What about Max? Perhaps he didn’t have your scruples.” Such as they were.

With great vehemence, Ivy shook her head. “He didn’t murder Hale. I’m sure of it.”

Even with all the histrionics, Sophie could sense her uncertainty. “He wasn’t at the party that night. Did he say where he was?”

“At home,” answered Ivy. “Alone.”

“You believe him?”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s … impossible.”

Sophie wasn’t so sure. “How did that box get into the sack Hale gave Betty?”

“I put it there. Max and I were going to make one more fake attempt on my life.”

“The arsenic?”

She nodded. “When it was over, we would have sent an anonymous note to the police saying Hale was responsible. If they searched the house, they’d find proof.”

Sophie couldn’t believe her ears. Were they really both that naive? “Don’t you think the police might have found that a bit too convenient?”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks like a setup.”

“It does?” She cocked her head. “I never — Max was sure it would work.”

Sophie had to work hard to control the disgust in her voice. Not only were they naive, they were stupid. “How were you going to use the arsenic?”

Ivy raised a jerky hand to her forehead. “That’s what I’m so worried about!” She jumped up again and began to pace in front of the refrigerator. “Max bought a bag of pretzels and sprinkled some of the powder over the contents. Then he stuck it in one of the kitchen cupboards. Hale hates pretzels. He would never have touched them. Since I love them, we thought it would be a perfect way to stage a poisoning. Max told me we all have tiny amounts of arsenic in our bodies. If I ate a
few,
it would elevate my level some, but there would be no lasting effect. But the night of the party, the bag disappeared!” She began to wring her hands. “Maybe one of the caterers used it. They weren’t supposed to, but I know they were running short of food toward the end of the evening. Maybe they searched through the cupboards. If they did — and they served them — Max said we still had nothing to worry about. A handful might give someone a bad stomachache, but that’s about it.”

“But you’re not so sure?”

She continued to pace. “What if the caterers took the sack with them? How can I call and demand they return a measly bag of pretzels! I can’t exactly tell them the truth. Bags of junk food rarely have sentimental value. What am I supposed to do? Accuse them of stealing? Break into their offices in the middle of the night and ransack the place?” She slumped against the counter.

“I don’t know,” answered Sophie.

“And how can I live with the idea that some innocent person might get hurt? Max just tells me to forget it. All he’s thinking about right now is the evidence Hale inadvertently gave Betty. He was furious when he found out that’s where I’d hidden the box. I wish he could see it from my perspective. I thought it was a perfect hiding place. How was I supposed to know Hale was saving those presents for her? He often gave gifts to business associates. He kept a stash in our bedroom closet.”

Sophie sat back and shook her head. Ivy already had a motive for Hale’s murder. This stupid, careless scheme just made it worse. What if he’d found out and decided to turn them in? How could they stop him? And even more important, Ivy probably didn’t know Hale had changed his will, since he’d done it a mere two weeks before his death. If she was willing to put him in jail to get his money, was it a big leap to think she might kill? And wasn’t Max in the same boat? “I think you need to speak with a lawyer.”

Ivy gasped.

“When all this comes out, you’ll need to know what your rights are.”

“When!
Why would it come out?”

Sophie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ivy might be a smart woman when it came to art and the academic world, but in real life, she didn’t have a clue. “Listen to me, Ivy. You wanted my advice? Here it is. You need legal counsel. At the very least, you must admit Max could have been responsible for Hale’s murder. If that
does
turn out to be the case, your only protection would be to talk to the police about it now. The sooner the better. Do you have a lawyer?”

Ivy’s eyes swept the room. “Sure — Louie. But he’s never practiced criminal law. And anyway, how can I lay this on him? His wife just died!”

“Then find someone else. But get a legal opinion.”

“I can’t do that,” said Ivy, her voice taking on an almost hysterical edge. “Max would —” Her eyes grew round and frightened. “I can’t.”

“It’s up to you.”

Ivy grabbed Sophie’s hand. “You mustn’t tell anyone about this. What I told you was in the strictest confidence. Promise me!”

In her mind’s eye, Sophie flashed to Kate sitting in a holding cell. “I can’t do that.”