The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) (18 page)

“After Margaret came out of Al’s house, she seemed to be arguing with John Stewart and Dr. Anders. I opened my car window but couldn’t hear what was being said. Then the others left in their cars. Margaret looked shaken and sat in her car. After a minute or two, she went back to the house. Al didn’t look too happy to see her.”

“Margaret threatened to go to the police,” Elizabeth said.

“From what we heard, Sherman's murder was over the ginseng crops he was writing about,” I said. “Sherman must have found something out about the ginseng farms he shouldn’t have.”

“I wonder what was so terrible,” Deirdre mused.

“And it sounds like there have been others that died because of the crops,” I continued. “I don’t know where Dr. Anders and Bill Murphy fit in.”

Elizabeth made a fist and put it up in the air. “Muscle. I can't believe John Stewart talked to Margaret that way. He manages her ginseng farm.”

“He has leverage over her,” I said. “You heard John say she's as much a part of this as everyone. It's so hard to believe.”

“How about your FBI friend, Kay? Wouldn't this be a good time to call him?” Deirdre asked.

“We still don't have any concrete evidence. I'm not going to admit to breaking and entering so they can find Sherman's manuscript in Al's closet. Plus Sherman's manuscript in the closet isn't proof of his murder, just that Al stole materials from Sherman's office.”

“We could call the police and give them an anonymous tip,” Deirdre said.

“To whom, Bill Murphy?” I asked. “He'd destroy the manuscript. If the information in the manuscript contained the illegal activity Sherman happened upon with the ginseng, this would be a motive strong enough to indict, if we had evidence he was murdered.”

“Which we don't yet,” Elizabeth said.

I nodded. “There's still so much more we need to find out.”

Marissa walked into the room and came over with the menus. “Sorry it took me so long. A vendor came in, and I had to deal with him.”

“No problem,” I said. I wondered if I should mention about the new locks on the back door or what the neighbor girls had seen in the alley that night. “Marissa, have you noticed anything strange that has happened at the patisserie since the Halloween Ball?’

“Well, I haven't told many people, but my patisserie was broken into the night of the Ball. When I came into work Sunday morning, the back door had been forced open.”

“Was anything missing?” Deirdre asked.

“Nothing I could see. I think there were a few people in here that night. I saw three distinct trails on the floor. Someone had smashed my potted mums and tracked soil onto the floor of the shop. One set had uneven spacing like they were sliding their feet or limping. Some of the furniture in the back had been moved. The petty cash hadn’t been taken from the register.”

From out in the hall, we heard someone call, “Marissa, Marissa.” The college student who helped her in the kitchen doing dishes came into the room and said, “Marissa, that guy is back. He said he forgot to get your signature in a couple of places.”

“Tell him I’ll be there. Give me a second. I’m sorry ladies. This is the vendor I was telling you about.” She handed us menus.

“Did you call the police?” Elizabeth asked Marissa.

“Yes. Bill Murphy came that morning. He wrote up a report.”

I grinned sardonically. I doubted that report was ever filed. “He took photos of the floor and swept away the footprints.” Bill Murphy had probably swept away his own footprints. “Well, the damage was minimal and nothing was stolen. The police are working on it.” Marissa walked away to deal with her vendor again.

“I wonder if we should bring Marissa into the loop,” Elizabeth said.

“I’ve known Marissa for years. I think she's trustworthy,” Deirdre said.

“We wouldn't have to tell her every detail. But I'm still not sure,” I said. “And Elizabeth, don't say anything to her like you did with Mary Ann.”

“I can't stay much longer,” Elizabeth said, ignoring the comment. “I have the wilderness retreat to go to.”

“What's our next step?” Deirdre asked.

“Find out who the three people listed on the hidden paper from Sherman's desk are,” I said.

“The names must be important if Sherman went to all the trouble of hiding that list,” Deirdre said.

“I'll have the opportunity to search the records at the college on Monday.”

“All right, but when you do, don't let Professor Laska get wind of your inquires. Try and see if you can find out a little background on him, also. He seemed a bit too helpful in Sherman’s office.”

“Now you find him suspicious because he's helpful? Unbelievable, Kay. You've got it in for Laska. Anyway, I have my job and you have yours. Tuesday night you'll have a chance to investigate some things at the free clinic.” Elizabeth got up from the sofa. “I have to get going. Let me know if you end up telling Marissa. By the way, Kay, at the book club, Rebecca mentioned you might be going Sunday night to hear Jeff's band. If you do, give me a call. I'd like to come along.”

“Okay.”

“Have fun on your all-natural weekend,” Deirdre said. “I'll think about you communing with Mother Nature at your five-star resort.” Elizabeth put her hand up as in a wave as she walked out of the room.

“Let’s look at the menu before Marissa gets back,” Deirdre said. “I’m starving. Should we order lunch or just dessert?”

“Let’s skip to dessert.”

“We could have both,” Deirdre suggested.

“True, but I'm on a diet, so I have to pick one,” I said. “Listen to this. The Chocolate Passion Pleaser. Layers of chocolate cake filled with vanilla buttercream and milk chocolate passion fruit ganache. I think I've made my choice.”

“Sounds healthy. There's fruit in it. Guess I'll keep mine simple and order the Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pie.”

“Right, real simple,” I said. “Roasted pecans in pure maple syrup with browned butter, bourbon, and semi-sweet chocolate.”

Marissa returned.

“Marissa, remember the day after Halloween when we were here and you warned us Bill Murphy was in the main dining room on his break?” I asked.

“I remember you three needed some privacy.”

“So, you are aware we have some doubts about Sherman Walters' death. You knew Sherman Walters, right?” I asked.

“He and Mary Ann came in here quite often.”

“Mary Ann even has doubts about Sherman's death being accidental,” Deirdre said. “The four of us are looking into some things concerning his death that don't quite add up.”

“But it said in the newspaper he drowned.” Marissa recited the official cause of death and looked expectantly at us.

“We think it's highly suspect that he would have even been down by the river that late at night,” I said.

“We thought you could help us. Just about everyone in town comes here,” Deirdre said.

“We're hoping if you hear anything concerning Sherman you would let us know.”

“I'd like to help.” Marissa hesitated for a few moments. “Sure. Okay. I'll keep an ear open for any talk of Sherman. But if I tell you anything, I'd like to remain anonymous. I can’t hurt my business.”

“We understand,” I said.

“So, my answer is yes. I'll help. Okay, so what can I get you?” Marissa took our orders for the Chocolate Passion Pleaser and the Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pie and left.

I looked over at Deirdre. “Outwardly, Elizabeth's been taking her breakup with Dave rather well. I wonder how she really feels about what happened.”

“I can tell she's a bit surly. In a way, Elizabeth has double standards,” Deirdre said. “She was going out with three different men all at the same time, but when one of those guys goes out with another woman she drops him.”

“I wonder if she'll ever settle down with one person.”

I watched the flames rise in the fireplace and thought about what Elizabeth had once told me, of how she married young right out of high school when she found out she was pregnant. She stayed in her loveless marriage for twenty years until her son had graduated from college and was on his own. After her divorce, a few years ago, she threw all caution to the wind and went from one relationship to another. She wanted the freedom she had never experienced. She wanted to keep her options open when it came to men and she had.

“I won't believe it if I ever see it,” Deirdre said.

“What?”

“Elizabeth. I have my doubts about her settling down. By the way, since Mike and Phil are in St. Paul, do you want to come over for dinner?” Deirdre asked. “I could put a couple of steaks on the grill. I can't remember the last time I had a good steak or when real meat was even served at our house.”

“Sure that sounds good, Deirdre. I was going to say I could bring dessert, but I'll bring a salad instead. Afterward, would you want to go to a movie or listen to some music? Something other than jazz?”

“We could do that. The college has an Argentinean mystery movie playing. I've heard it's supposed to be excellent.”

“Let's see what we feel like later. Would you mind if we stopped off at Al's when we leave here, so I can find out what he wanted to see me about?”

“You sure are brave, Kay, after all that happened today.”

* * * *

Minutes later I parked in front of Al's house. Deirdre sat in the passenger's seat. Al was on his front porch talking to an older woman. I got out of the car and walked up to the house.

“Hello,” I said to Al and the woman.

“Mrs. Thompson, this is my friend Kay. Kay, do you know Mrs. Thompson, my neighbor?”

“No, I don't. Mrs. Thompson, it's nice to meet you.”

“Mrs. Thompson was just returning a book I had lent her,
Death of a Burglar
.”

“I've read it,” I said. “That's the author that got me interested in reading cozy mysteries.”

“Nice to meet you, Kay,” said Mrs. Thompson pleasantly. “I saw you earlier today, going into Al's house with another woman, not the one in your car there.”

A bead of sweat started to form on my forehead. I looked over calmly at Al and shrugged my shoulders in mock puzzlement. “I think you might have me confused with someone else. I haven't ever been to Al's before. In fact, I had to look up his address before coming over.”

Mrs. Thompson squinted her eyes at me as she scrutinized my face.

“Al, Marissa said you had something to give me.” I said before she could speak again.

“Yes, I do. I see Deirdre came with you. Would the two of you like to come in for a drink? I can make coffee, tea, whatever you like.”

“Thank you, but no. I'm just stopping by. Deirdre and I have some plans.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson for returning the book,” Al turned and said to his other visitor in a gentle dismissal. “Stop by anytime you'd like another book.”

We went into Al's house. “I finished the new Stephanie Griffin book earlier this week. I thought I'd give it to you. I remember you said you were on a waiting list at the library for it.”

“That's great, Al.” There was a brief silence as we stood there.

“It's in my study.” The silence returned and we continued to stand there. Al made no move toward the study, where I knew the book was.

I looked around the living room a bit. “You and your wife have a beautiful home.”

“My wife does a great job in the decorating department.”

I grew a bit impatient, just standing around. “I guess I shouldn't keep Deirdre waiting long.”

Al fidgeted a little, let out a deep sigh, and said, “By the way, I couldn't help but notice you were late coming to the Halloween Ball the other night. Was everything all right?” He looked at me with a serious expression.

My heart skipped a beat, but I exercised every ounce of control to keep my expression from shifting. The words came out of my mouth without a hint of effort. “Ah, yes, that was the night Phil had to stay late at his guitar workshop. I decided to wait for him so we could go together. But after a while, he called to say he would be later than expected, so I left without him.”

Before I knew it, I found myself in front of Al's study door. I had walked there without giving it a thought while I made my excuses for Friday night. I stopped at once, horrified. Think! What am I doing? How would I know where the study is? I spotted a vase on a table by the study doorway and started to look at it. “Oh, Al, what a lovely vase,” I said, hoping to show enthusiasm. “Is it a Roseville?” That was close.

“Why, yes, it is.”

“It's beautiful. I have one in the freesia pattern.” Al walked past me to get into the study. Phew! I followed him in.

“I love the stained glass windows in this room,” I said trying to appear calm. “They must be original to the house.”

“They are. I understand you work in stained glass.”

“Yes, I do. Oh, here's the book.” I picked it up off of his desk.

Al smiled. “It wasn't Griffin's best, but it's still worth a read.”

“Thanks, Al. It's great you thought of me. Well, I'd better get going.”

As I walked back to the car, all I wanted to do was to drop Deirdre off, go home, and take a hot bath to try and get rid of the chill going down my spine. A couple glasses of wine wouldn't hurt either. I climbed behind the wheel and sped away.