The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) (15 page)

My eyes just about popped out of their sockets. “Elizabeth!” I shouted. “Would you and Deirdre please help get the coffee ready in the kitchen? Thank you.”

What the hell was Elizabeth doing? Deirdre looked over at me, raised her eyebrows, and shook her head slightly. She and Elizabeth walked into the kitchen. I was fuming. I couldn't believe Elizabeth. She knew I wasn't sure about telling Mary Ann. Mary Ann looked at me expectantly. I wasn't ready to bring her in yet, so I decided to just ask about her alibi for Friday.

“Mary Ann, something you said the morning I came to your home after Sherman died has been bothering me. You mentioned that you called Sherman early Friday afternoon, the day before he died, to let him know that you had arrived at your parents. I spoke to your mother at the funeral luncheon. She mentioned that you hadn't arrived until dinner time at six o'clock. It seems there's a discrepancy in time.”

“I don't see how it matters,” Mary Ann said. She crossed her arms, her eyes averted for a few moments.

When Mary Ann raised her head, I squinted a little and looked straight into her eyes. “You and I both question the circumstances of your husband's death. I told you we could quietly investigate, but before we can do that, we need to be truthful, upfront with each other. Or, we may have to stop this before we get started.”

She started to fidget with her fingers. “I do want to find out what happened to Sherman.”

“So do I. It's up to you.”

Mary Ann sat for a few moments. Tears rose in her eyes. “I feel guilty about Sherman.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “How so?”

“This is difficult.” Deirdre and Elizabeth came back into the living room with the coffee. Mary Ann looked up at them and then at me.

“Deirdre and Elizabeth are here to help out,” I said. “They know what we both suspect.”

Mary Ann looked downward and started to speak. “The last time I saw my husband alive, I lied to him. And what's worse, I was unfaithful to him that morning.” Deirdre and Elizabeth remained blank faced. I did my best. Mary Ann's eye remained averted. “Don't get me wrong. I loved Sherman, yet I still did the one thing that would have absolutely devastated him if he had found out. You see, I wasn't
in
love with him any longer. He became emotionally vacant to me, being so consumed in that damn book he had been writing for two years. But still, it's killing me...the guilt!”

“Go on,” I whispered, not wanting to interrupt her train of thought.

“I have been seeing this man, a friend of mine from my college days, for over a year now. He lives here in Sudbury Falls.” Tears started flowing down her cheeks. “When Sherman and I moved to Sudbury Falls, he and I rekindled our friendship, and later on, it became more. He was there for me when Sherman started to devote more and more of his time to his work. I was with him on Friday morning.”

Just like that, Mary Ann had a motive. Could she and her lover be part of this whole thing? Al and Bill Murphy were the only ones I knew for sure in the vacant store. I hoped she wasn't talking about Bill Murphy. A wave of nausea came over me. Perhaps Sherman's murder had to do with Mary Ann's love affair. She may have just wanted to get Sherman out of the picture, and divorce was too much paperwork.

“I think it is important we know who this man is,” Elizabeth said.

“I don't see why.” Mary Ann's voice cracked.

I just looked at Mary Ann for a few moments. Her eyes met mine. “I know this is hard for you. I understand you're feeling guilty, but wouldn't it be some atonement to find out what really happened to Sherman?”

“You aren't going to drag him into this, are you?”

“I don't think that would be necessary. It's not that we're trying to invade your personal life. We just need us to be upfront with each other for safety concerns.”

“He's a photographer, someone who could always make me laugh. He was always available when I needed comfort, which occurred increasingly often. His name is...” Her voice trailed off to a whisper. “Dave Mendoza.”

“Dave Mendoza?” Elizabeth repeated just as quietly to herself.

I looked over at Elizabeth. In a matter of a few moments, Elizabeth's face lost all of its color; her eyes dulled. Deirdre looked back and forth between the two of us. I couldn't believe it. Elizabeth's Dave. In a strange way, I felt a mixture of pity for Elizabeth and relief. I knew Dave. I liked him. I knew he couldn't be involved in murder. Or could he? No, he didn't have a deceptive bone in his body. Wait a minute...

Tears rose in Mary Ann's eyes, and then she cried, lamenting sobs. Her whole body shook. “I've...I've been feeling so guilty.” She blew her nose. “I need to use your bathroom.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Deirdre asked.

“No!” she said in a sharp voice. “Thank you.” Mary Ann headed down the hall.

Deirdre said to me in a whisper, “Dave's name was on the list I gave you. People we greeted between seven o'clock and seven thirty.”

“Elizabeth, I'm sorry. About Dave. I truly am,” I said. I sharpened my tone at this point. “But what the hell did you think you were doing when you brought up my seeing Sherman the night of the Ball?” I started clearing the table. I slammed a salad bowl down a little too hard on the pile of plates and broke it. “It wasn't your place bringing this up, especially when I told you I was having second thoughts about telling Mary Ann. You're supposed to be here to assist me in this investigation, not sabotage me.” My chest ached reprimanding her just after she heard about Dave, but I had to do it. I was afraid she’d continue to be indiscreet.

After all of the dishes were put in the kitchen, we went back into the living room. We waited for Mary Ann in silence until Elizabeth said, “Kay, what's with this obsessive need? Everyone has to agree with you? Always?”

Before I could respond, Mary Ann walked into the living room and sat down. I would deal with Elizabeth later. Mary Ann took in a deep breath, looked up and asked, “Elizabeth, what was it you said about Kay seeing Sherman the night of the Halloween Ball? Things don't add up.” She lowered her eyes. Her handsome posture that I had recently admired faded in the slump of her shoulders.

The three of us looked at each other. There was no delicate way to tell Mary Ann about seeing Sherman in the vacant store, and I wasn't even sure I should tell her yet. She had too big a personal stake in the matter. She might blow the whole thing by acting differently toward Al Stewart and Bill Murphy if I told her about their being part of this whole thing. And if she did, she could put herself in danger. Worse yet, she could warn Al and Bill that I was onto them if it turned out she was involved. On the other hand, Mary Ann's alibi for the time I saw Sherman at the store checked out. Her cohort, Dave, had been on Deirdre's list of early Ball attendees. It was looking like a safer and safer bet they weren't involved. Right now, with Mary Ann expecting me to say something, I needed to take a chance and give her a reason for helping us out.

“It’s all rather complicated, Mary Ann,” I said. “The night of the Halloween Ball my husband ended up working late at school and decided to meet me at the party. I walked over by myself. On the way, I saw a couple of people wearing hooded robe costumes ahead of me. I followed them into the back of the vacant furniture store on Main Street, thinking there was another party going on. I entered a storage room where I saw them go and saw...”

Deirdre took Mary Ann's hand.

“...six people all wearing the same hooded robes. They were looking down at a person lying still on the floor. Mary Ann, it was Sherman.”

“What?” Mary Ann exclaimed. “Sherman! Why didn’t I hear about this? Did you call the police?”

I decided to bring her all the way into the loop. “I recognized two of the six people there. One of them was Al Stewart from the post office, and the other was the Deputy Chief of Police, Bill Murphy.”

“Deputy Chief Bill Murphy? Was Sherman dead?”

“He couldn't have been,” Deirdre replied. “The autopsy showed he drowned around midnight.”

“I knew I couldn't go to the police because of Bill Murphy. I didn’t know who the other four people were. Maybe police officers, also.” I paused for a few moments. “Mary Ann, I had no idea what I had witnessed. For all I knew, these people could have been Sherman’s friends and he had just fainted or passed out.”

“Oh, dear,” Mary Ann said, crossing her arms across her heart as if to stop it from bursting.

“I planned to come to your home Sunday to see if your husband was all right, and if he had just passed out the night before. The next morning we found Sherman—”

“Sherman must have been either drugged or knocked out,” Elizabeth interrupted. Elizabeth, what are you doing? Another wave of irritation rushed over me. “Kay told us you had mentioned that it was unlike Sherman to have been out so late Saturday night. From what she saw the night Sherman died, it would have had to be murder.” I couldn't believe how blatant Elizabeth was. I wanted to shut her up somehow.

Mary Ann sat for a few moments looking down, wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks. She took in a deep breath, looked up, and asked, “What can we do about all this and these bastards? It is so hard, knowing these people murdered my husband, and I can't do anything about it. It's hard to believe...” She lowered her eyes and wept.

“What Deirdre, Kay, and I want to do is to find the proof needed so all of the people involved in Sherman’s murder are indicted,” Elizabeth said.

“We are going to do everything in our power to find out who did this to your husband,” I said, interrupting Elizabeth to keep her from saying any more. She was stepping on my toes at every opportunity. I was supposed to be in charge of this investigation. She was out of control. She just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

“The autopsy showed he died from drowning. It doesn't make sense,” Mary Ann said. “How could they say no foul play? Something must have shown up if Sherman was out cold on the floor. Something in the autopsy.”

“We're going to need your help,” Elizabeth said.

It was time to take charge again. “No public attacks on Bill Murphy, Al Stewart, or anyone. Not until we have the proof to put these people away,” I said. “Act as normal as possible. Don’t let
anyone
know you know anything.”

“We don't even know who all the people involved are,” Deirdre said. “It could be anyone in town. These people are leading double lives.”

“Right,” I said. “If we talk to the wrong person, it could be quite dangerous.”

“Are you okay with this, Mary Ann?” Elizabeth asked. “Will you be able to help?”

“Yes, I'll do anything to bring these people to justice.”

“Good,” I said, giving Elizabeth an annoyed glance. “We need you to look through all of Sherman's papers carefully when you clean out his office at the college. Bring everything home. I can even go with you if you like, and then we can all look it over.”

Deirdre added, “Sherman must have been a real threat to these people. Look at all of his notes about the book he was working on. What was it about, what did he find out? Anything at all will help. We're looking for a motive.”

“Kay, we can go this afternoon if you like,” Mary Ann said.

“Sure, I'd be happy to. At the funeral luncheon I saw a colleague of Sherman's, Professor Laska, looking in his office and through his desk. Would there have been any reason why he would have been in there?”

I noticed Elizabeth looking over at me out of the corner of my eye when I mentioned Laska's name.

“Richard and Anne Laska are good friends of ours. He knows he can make himself at home when he's over,” Mary Ann replied. “I can’t imagine him having any part in this.”

Elizabeth chimed in. “I work at the college part-time. I will do a little investigating there Monday morning. See if I also can find out more about Sherman's research.”

* * * *

Later in the afternoon, Mary Ann and I went to the college, our arms filled with empty boxes. Sherman’s room was tidy looking. His secretary must have straightened everything out, knowing Mary Ann was coming by.

“Here is a picture taken on our wedding day.” Mary Ann handed me the photograph on his desk. “And this one was taken when we went camping in Yosemite on our honeymoon. We didn't have a care in the world back then.”

We started to put papers, books, and mementos into the boxes. I tried to look at the papers as much as I could as I went along.

A number of professors and staff stopped by to say hello to Mary Ann and lend their support. I continued to box items so she could talk to them. I looked through Sherman's appointment book. The page for last Friday was torn out. Where was it? I tried the trick of pencil shading the top page to see if I could see any letters from the pressure of the pen but without any luck. I made a mental note about the missing page. Professor Laska walked into the room, And I put the appointment book into the box with some papers on top of it.

“Mary Ann, I'm so sorry about Sherman. You know you can call on Anne and me for anything.”

“Thank you, Richard. You both have been such good friends to us.”

“You know where my office is. Come and get me when you are ready to leave, and I’ll help carry these boxes down to your car.” He left the room.

“This was Sherman’s favorite sweater.” Mary Ann took it off the back of his chair. “It was the first sweater I ever knit.” A tear streamed down her face.