The April Fools' Day Murder (23 page)

“Are you crying?”

He had seen me with my face down in my hands, so deep in thought I had not been aware of where I was. I felt terrible. “Oh no, Eddie.” I scooped him up and set him on my lap, my arms around him. “I was just thinking about something.”

“I thought you were crying.”

“No.” I stroked his hair, curly like his father’s. “I’m very happy, honey. I have nothing to cry about.” I kissed his forehead, gave him a squeeze, and held him in my arms. I had scared him and wished I were able to undo the last few minutes. “Everything’s fine. Daddy’s coming home soon and we’ll have a good dinner together.”

He hopped off my lap. “Can I have a pretzel?”

“Sure.” I got him one and took one for myself. They were long rods and we crunched them together and he giggled. I patted his head and went back to making dinner.

26

“You’re telling me this woman, this Toni something who’s the Platts’ daughter, called you from Chicago or wherever she lives and offered you an acre of prime land that could be worth half a million dollars just because you’ve been so nice to Mom.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Eddie was off to bed and we were sitting in our accustomed places in the family room, sipping our coffee and talking about what we had waited hours to discuss.

“And when you questioned her about the second will, the will she called to tell you about the other night, she said it didn’t exist.”

“You’ve got it. And her mother had told her brother, when he called her, that there was no second will. He was very annoyed with me for making up a false story.”

“But the sister set him straight.”

“Apparently. He had the good grace to apologize to me for the accusation.”

“This is quite a family,” Jack said. “They’re better organized than organized criminals.”

“Jack, I’ve been mulling this over all day. Stewing about it is more accurate. I know something that I can’t
prove about a document that has probably been destroyed by now. Its existence would make Roger Platt the prime suspect in his father’s killing.”

“You don’t think he did it.”

“Except for the fact that it happened on his birthday, which does change things, I have to admit. People get very sensitive on important dates, their birthdays, their anniversaries, the days that people who mattered to them died. If I didn’t feel so sorry for him, the discovery of the new will and the fact that the murder happened on Roger’s birthday might tilt me toward him. But it’s all speculation, as I’ve been saying over and over. Frankly, I think I’ve come around to your position, that Winnie did it but she wants me to think Roger did to spare herself.”

“You think she planned it for a long time?”

“She kept her license up-to-date.”

“And we have only her daughter’s word for it that her hearing is bad.”

“True.” I hadn’t thought of that. I had considered everything Toni told me to be true since she wasn’t a suspect. But the deafness in one ear was a very convenient explanation for Winnie’s behavior, or lack of it, when I banged on her front door.

“I’ll tell you how I see it; what the mayor told you about the value of the land, Vitale looks good to me for this.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“He’s right there, he hops across the road and up the hill. Maybe something new happened recently that we don’t know about between him and Platt and he boiled over, especially if he found out what that land is worth.”

“But we’re going around in circles, Jack. We have
three good suspects but nothing convincing on any one of them. I think I should let this rest, let my mind take a breather. It’s making me dizzy, going around in circles. All I can see is second wills, canes, a knife in the back that isn’t a knife.”

“Then let it rest. Maybe the police’ll figure something out. They do, you know.” He gave me a sly smile.

“I know. And I appreciate their hard work. Imagine if Toni had called them before she called me about the will. The Platts could never have gotten away with retracting their statement.”

“The cops would’ve been at their door in five minutes to read it.”

“But they were too smart to call the cops. I think Toni called me before she and her mother had thought through the implications of the new will. In the end, they didn’t want me knowing it either. I wish I knew the lawyer who drew it up for Willard.”

“Lotta lawyers in this country.”

And probably most of them in commuting distance of New York. “I’m taking the day off tomorrow,” I announced. “I am taking my son for new shoes, which he badly needs. I’m going to call Mel to come over after she finishes teaching and we can talk about spring planting and town politics and forget this ever happened.”

“Sounds like the right thing to do. Mind if I hit the books?”

“Not at all. How’re you doing?”

“I’m getting there, but it’ll take time. Some things have changed since I was on the street. I’m in a maze of laws and ordinances. Nothing that pertains to the Platt
homicide unfortunately. Wish I could pull something out of a hat.”

So did I, but I’m not that kind of dreamer. We finished our coffee and he took a pad of paper and a couple of books out and started reading while I went through the parts of the
Times
I hadn’t read yet. Maybe a penitent killer would call and confess. But if he did, I hoped he would call the police station, not my number. Their credibility was a lot greater than mine.

As I had promised, I took Eddie for shoes on Friday morning. I had heard mothers complain about the cost of children’s shoes before I was in a situation where it made an impression on me. Now it did. My pediatrician suggested what kind of shoes Eddie needed, and I did what he told me, gulping at the price and telling myself my son’s well-being did not have a price tag. But when the salesman asked if he could show me a pair of sneakers for myself, I looked down at the worn canvas on my feet and said, “Oh, I think these are good for another season,” suppressing the doubt I had that they would make it through the summer months. It’s not that we are poor; it’s that big purchases still make me quiver.

Eddie loved the shoes. He thought they looked just like Daddy’s and I told him they did. He practically pranced out of the store as I followed with a bag containing the old ones.

“Where do you want to go now?” I asked when we were out on the street.

“I wanna see Daddy.”

“We can’t do that, honey. He’s working in New York and that’s a long drive. He’ll be home for dinner.”

“I wanna see Mel.”

“Mel’s teaching. She’ll be home when school is over. She’s coming to visit with Sari and Noah, how’s that?”

“OK.”

“Let’s go see if we can get our new tree planted this weekend.”

We drove up to the nursery and Mr. Vitale came to talk to me. “I think we can do it Saturday,” he said, looking at a schedule. “The ground’s warmed up in the last couple of weeks.”

“Someone will be home whenever you come.”

“Fine. You find out anything about the Platt murder?”

“I’ve turned over a lot of rocks but no killer has crawled out yet. I’m giving it up for a while. Nothing leads anywhere. Someone told me the Platts own about ten acres up there.” I nodded up the hill.

“About that.”

“The mayor said it’s worth close to half a million dollars an acre.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Vitale said. “If it were worth that, I’d close the nursery tomorrow and sell the land. I could do better putting the money in a CD and living off the income than working my head off seven days a week.”

“How many acres do you have here?”

“About seven, give or take. Want to look at your tree?”

“Sure. Come on, Eddie, let’s look at our new tree.”

We went down the slope and found it and once again I fell in love with it. The shape was so perfect, the branches so beautifully curved, like a small umbrella waiting to grow into a large one. All around us trees and shrubs displayed buds that were nearly ready to open. This was really my time of year.

“That’s my tree,” Eddie said, pointing to it.

“Well, let’s see what grows faster, young man, you or that tree,” Mr. Vitale said.

“I’m growing up.” Eddie stretched his hands high to make his point.

“You may do it, son. That little tree’s going to get bigger, but I’ll bet you hit six feet before it hits three. See you Saturday, Mrs. Brooks.”

And as always I found it hard to believe that a man who could be nice to a child could have committed a murder. “Thank you,” I said as he walked away.

“You like the tree, honey?” I said to Eddie.

“It’s a nice tree. It’s a baby tree.”

“Yes it is. It won’t grow very big, but it’ll have beautiful leaves and it’ll grow this way.” I showed him an approximate width with my hands. “Ready to go?”

“OK.”

What Mr. Vitale had said about the price of the land rang true. He certainly didn’t work at a nine-to-five job five days a week. He was open seven days a week in spring, summer, and fall, and I was sure his work was physically demanding. It made sense that if he could realize the kind of money those seven acres would bring at almost half a million per, he might consider living on the income. My work netted me very little, although I loved it, but after twenty-five years or so of back-breaking work, a man might understandably look for an easier life.

So maybe the mayor’s estimate had been high—Roger thought it might be—and Mr. Vitale wasn’t as potentially wealthy as I had thought. Nor would an extra acre of land have made a substantial difference in his life. Ask enough questions and the answers will drive you crazy.

I spent Eddie’s nap time correcting papers from my class. Some semesters you get a class of great students; this was not one of them. I had a few shining lights but the rest were having a hard time staying awake. Having decided that the fault might well be mine, I had asked to be relieved of this class and assigned to a composition class in the fall. There would be more work, but it would be different and I was afraid of stagnating.

I had a lot of the work done by the time Eddie woke up. I gave him a snack and put water in my kettle, ready to boil when Mel and the children arrived. I even took my beautiful silver tea strainer, a wedding present from Joseph, out of its box.

Eddie stood in the front window, waiting for his company as though he hadn’t seen them for years. I was reaching for a plate to put cookies on when he called, “I see them!”

“OK, I’ll open the door.” I put my platter on the counter and unlocked the front door, pulling it open to let the fresh spring air come in.

Sari and Noah saw me and started running. Mel waved and took off after them. We were all feeling pretty good and it was mostly the weather that was responsible.

“Good to see you,” Mel said as they came inside. “Isn’t it great out?”

“I love it. I’ve got the tea on. Want to sit out back?”

“How ’bout it, kids? Outside or inside?”

They all shrieked something and we decided outside had won. I found my one and only tray, loaded it, and carried it out the back door. The kids found toys in the garage
and started to make happy noises while we sat at the table and I poured tea through the strainer.

“You’re so elegant,” Mel said.

“Me!” I laughed. “Wrong adjective. Look at these sneakers, Mel. I’m afraid I’ll be arrested as a vagrant if I wear them out of the area.”

“Sneakers don’t count. But that’s some tea strainer. Just looking at it makes me feel coddled. How’s the Platt murder going?”

“It isn’t. I’ve learned so many dirty secrets about that family and their friends, I can’t believe there’s any more, but I couldn’t put my finger on the killer if my life depended on it.”

“Something’ll turn up,” Mel said with the certainty of one who has no involvement whatever.

“I suppose so. I’m taking today off from thinking about it. And by the way, we’re getting our little Japanese maple tomorrow.”

“Where are you planting it?”

“Out front. It’s too beautiful to hide here in the back.”

“I agree.” She inhaled the tea, then drank some. “Lovely. Mm.”

“You have any idea what that land up the hill from the nursery would cost?”

“I thought you were taking a rest.”

“Just asking.”

“A lot, but I couldn’t put a number on it.”

“Half a million an acre?”

“Sounds high to me.”

“That’s what Mr. Vitale said. He said if it were that much, he’d close up the nursery tomorrow and sell the land and live off the income.”

“So would I. I would make Hal work half time but I would teach because I love it.”

“So would I,” I said. “There’s just something about teaching. I guess I feel about it the way Arnold feels about law.”

“And Jack?”

“I don’t know. I think he enjoys it, but he may want to do something else with it than what he’s doing right now.”

“There’s time. We’re still considered young.” She laughed. “By our parents, anyway.”

We drank more tea and talked some more and then Mel gathered her kids and walked home. I put the dishes on the tray and carried it all inside. Jack would be home soon and there was a table to set and a little cooking to do.