Whiskey Beach (42 page)

“How’d you come by all this?” Vinnie asked casually. “A lot of stories go around about that treasure.”

“They’re stories. This is
fact
. It’s taken me nearly two years to put it all together, a piece at a time. I’ve got letters, and they cost me, written by James Fitzgerald, Violeta Landon’s son by Nathanial Broome. They detail what she told him happened that night on Whiskey Beach. He walked away from it, from his rights, Fitzgerald—her son. I won’t!”

“Sounds to me like you should’ve been talking to a lawyer,” Corbett put in, “not hacking holes in basements with a pickax.”

“You think I didn’t
try
?” Suskind jerked forward, face washed angry red. “Nothing but a runaround, nothing but excuses. It was too long ago, she wouldn’t have legally inherited in any case. No legal claim. What about my blood claim, my moral claim? The dowry was booty belonging to
my
ancestor, not Landon’s. It’s mine.”

“So, with this moral, blood claim behind you, you broke into Bluff House on numerous occasions and— Why the basement, specifically?”

“Violeta told her son Broome instructed her to hide it there to keep it safe.”

“Okay, and you don’t think in a couple hundred years somebody found it, maybe spent it?”

“She hid it. It’s there, and it’s mine by right.”

“And you figure that right equals breaking in, damaging property and pushing an old woman down the stairs?”

“I didn’t push her. I never laid a hand on her. It was an accident.”

Corbett hiked up his eyebrows. “Accidents happen. How did this one?”

“I needed to look around on the third floor. The Landons have a lot of things stored up there. I needed to see if I could find something to give me more specifics on the dowry. The old woman got up, she saw me, she ran and she fell. That’s it. I never touched her.”

“You saw her fall?”

“Of course I saw her fall. I was
there
, wasn’t I? It wasn’t my fault.”

“Okay, let’s be clear. You broke into Bluff House on the night of January twentieth of this year. Ms. Hester Landon was in the house, and she saw you, tried to run from you and fell down the stairs. Is that accurate?”

“That’s right. I never touched her.”

“But you did touch Abra Walsh on the night she entered Bluff House, after you’d cut the power, broken in.”

“I didn’t hurt her. I just needed to . . . restrain her until I could get out. She attacked me. Just like Landon attacked me tonight. You
saw
that.”

“I saw you reach for a weapon you had concealed.” Corbett glanced at Vinnie.

“Yes, sir. I witnessed same, and we have the weapon in evidence.”

“You’re lucky you only took a couple punches. Now, let’s go back to the night you and Abra Walsh tangled in Bluff House.”

“I just told you. She attacked me.”

“That’s an interesting take on it. And did Kirby Duncan attack you, too, before you shot him and pushed his body off the lighthouse cliff?”

The muscle in Suskind’s jaw twitched again, his gaze shifted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, or who Kirby Duncan is.”

“Was. I’ll refresh you. He’s the private investigator out of Boston you hired to watch Eli Landon.” Corbett held up a hand before Suskind could speak. “Let me save us some time here. People always think they’re covering their tracks. Like breaking into Duncan’s office, his apartment, getting rid of his records. But when people are in that push of the moment, they forget little things. Like backup files. And what they keep themselves, which will turn up as we’ve got a team searching your house here, and another in Boston going through your apartment.”

He let that sink in.

“Then the weapon you pulled, which we’ve confirmed was registered to Kirby Duncan. How did you gain possession of Duncan’s weapon?”

“I . . . found it.”

“Just a lucky break?” Now Corbett smiled at him. “Where did you find it? When? How?” Corbett shoved into Suskind’s space. “No answer for that. Take some time to think about it, and while you are, add this in. A lot of people figure wearing gloves or wiping a gun covers their ass. But they just don’t think of wearing gloves when they load one. You planted the gun in Abra Walsh’s house, Suskind, but it wasn’t her prints on the bullets the ME dug out of Duncan. Guess whose?”

“It was self-defense.”

“Reasonable. Tell me about that.”

“He came at me. I defended myself. He . . . attacked me.”

“Like Abra Walsh attacked you?”

“I didn’t have any choice. He came at me.”

“You shot Kirby Duncan, pushed his body off the lighthouse cliffs?”

“Yes, in self-defense—and I took his gun. He rushed me, he was armed, we struggled. It was an accident.”

Corbett scratched the side of his neck. “You’re pretty accident-prone. But the thing is, we’re good at our jobs around here. Kirby Duncan wasn’t shot at close range during a struggle. Forensics doesn’t back that story up.”

“That’s what happened.” Suskind folded his arms now. “It was self-defense. I have a right to defend myself.”

“You have a right to break into private property, to dig around in it, to walk away from an injured woman who fell because you’d broken into her home while she was sleeping, to assault another and to kill a man? You’re going to find out the law doesn’t give you a single one of those rights, Suskind, and you’ll have a long time to think about that in prison when you’re serving a life sentence for first-degree murder.”

“It was self-defense.”

“Is that going to be your story for why you killed Lindsay Landon? Did she attack you, threaten you, so you had to bash in the back of her skull to defend yourself?”

“I didn’t kill Lindsay! Landon killed her, and you cops let him get away with it. Money, family name, that’s why she’s dead and he’s free, and he’s lording it in a house that’s rightfully mine.”

Corbett glanced toward the two-way mirror, gave the faintest nod. Nearly sighed. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake, but a deal was a deal.

“How do you know Landon killed her?”

“Because he did. She was afraid of him.”

“She told you she was afraid of her husband?”

“She was a wreck after he went at her in public that day. She said she didn’t know what he might do. He’d threatened her, told her he’d make her sorry, make her pay. It’s on record! I promised her I’d take care of her, take care of everything. She loved me. I loved her. Landon was already done with her, but when he found out about us, he couldn’t stand that she was happy. He went over there, and he killed her, then he bought off the cops and walked.”

“So Wolfe was paid off?”

“Damn right he was.”

Corbett glanced around, nodded again when Eli walked in. “Eli Landon entering interview. Mr. Suskind, I think, again, we can save some time, get this all straightened out, if Mr. Landon’s a part of this process. If you object to having him here, just say so and he’s out.”

“I’ve got plenty to say to him, here and now. You murdering bastard.”

“That was going to be my line. But let’s talk.” Eli took a seat at the table.

“Y
OU DIDN’T WANT HER.”

“No,” Eli agreed, “I didn’t, and I wanted her less when I found out she’d lied to me, cheated on me, used me. Did she know why you started the affair? Did she know you were using her to get information on me, on Bluff House, the family, the dowry?”

“I loved her.”

“Maybe you did, but you didn’t start sleeping with her out of love. You did it to screw with me, and to pump her for anything I might have told her about the dowry.”

“I
knew
her. I understood her. You didn’t even know who she was.”

“God, you’re right about that. No argument. I didn’t know her, I didn’t want her, I didn’t love her. I didn’t kill her.”

“You went in that house, and when she told you to go to hell, to get out, that she and I were going to be together, to get married, start our lives, you killed her.”

“Tough marrying her when you already have a wife.”

“I’d already told Eden I wanted a divorce, and when Lindsay told you we were both getting free, you couldn’t stand it. You didn’t want her, but you didn’t want anyone else to have her.”

“I thought your wife didn’t know about you and Lindsay until after Lindsay’s murder.”

Suskind’s hands balled on the table. “She didn’t know about Lindsay.”

“You just told your wife, the mother of your two kids, you wanted a divorce, and she didn’t ask any questions?”

“It’s none of your business what’s between me and Eden.”

“It’s funny though. Lindsay and I sure weren’t so civilized and reasonable when we were heading toward divorce. A lot of arguing, a lot of accusations and blame. I guess your wife’s a better person, one who’d just step away, let you have what you wanted. Where were you going the night Lindsay died? Come on, Justin, she was packing, we’d had an ugly public fight, and she was upset. You were in love with her, and you’d already asked your wife for a divorce. Lindsay wasn’t going out of town without you.”

“It’s none of your business where we were going.”

“But when you went by to pick her up . . .”

“It was too late! You’d killed her. The police were already there.”

When he lunged up, Vinnie simply stepped over, put a hand on Suskind’s shoulder and shoved him down again. “Keep your seat.”

“Keep your hands off me! You’re as guilty as he is. Every one of you. I couldn’t even stop that night, couldn’t even see her. I could only ask one of the neighbors standing out in the rain what was going on. And he told me there must’ve been some sort of a break-in and the woman who lived in the house was dead. She was dead, and you’d already started sliding out of it.”

Saying nothing, Eli glanced at Corbett and tacitly passed the ball.

“What you’re saying now doesn’t jibe with your previous statements to the police in the matter of Lindsay Landon’s murder.”

“I know how it works. Do you think I’m stupid? If I admitted to being anywhere near the house, the cops would’ve pinned it on me. He killed her.” Suskind jabbed a finger toward Eli. “You
know
it, and you’ve got me in here for doing what I had a right to do. Do your job. Arrest him.”

“If I’m going to do my job, I have to have it all straight. I need the facts. What time did you drive by the Landon house in the Back Bay?”

“About seven-fifteen.”

“And after that?”

“I went straight home. I was half crazy, I couldn’t think. Eden was making dinner, and she told me she’d just heard a bulletin that Lindsay had been killed. I broke down. What do you expect? I loved her. I was out of my mind, and Eden helped me calm down, helped me think it through. She was worried about me, about our kids, so she said she’d tell the police I’d been there, with her, since five-thirty, that we shouldn’t have to go through the scandal and the pressure because of what Landon had done.”

“She lied.”

“She protected me and our family. I’d let her down, but she stood up for me. She knew I didn’t kill Lindsay.”

“Yes, she did,” Eli agreed. “She knew you didn’t kill Lindsay. And she knew I didn’t kill Lindsay. She gave you an alibi, Justin, one the cops believed. And you gave her one that put her at home, with you, being the good wife, sharing some margaritas, cooking dinner for the two of you when she’d gone over to confront Lindsay, and Lindsay had let her in.”

“That’s a lie. A ridiculous, self-serving lie.”

“And Lindsay probably said to her something along the lines of what she said to me the last time we spoke. That she was sorry, but that’s the way it was. She loved you, and you were both entitled to be happy. So Eden grabbed the poker in a rage and killed her.”

“She couldn’t do that.”

“You know better. She lashed out because the woman she thought was her friend had made a fool out of her. The woman she’d thought was her friend threatened everything she held close. The husband she’d lived with, trusted, believed in had betrayed her, and would destroy their marriage for someone else’s wife.”

“She didn’t just say you can have a divorce,” Corbett put in. “You fought, she demanded, and you told her you were in love with someone else. Then you told her who.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“When? When did you tell her about Lindsay?”

“The night before the murder. It doesn’t matter. Eden protected me, and all she asked in return was for me to give our marriage another try, another few months. She did it for me.”

“She did it for herself.” Eli pushed to his feet. “Both of you, all for yourselves, and the hell with anyone else. You could’ve had her, Justin. All I wanted was my grandmother’s ring, but Eden wanted more than that, and she used you to get it. It’s hard to blame her.”

He walked out, and straight to Abra. She pushed off the bench where she’d waited, held tight when his arms came around her, when his forehead dropped to hers.

“It was hard,” she said quietly.

“More than I thought it would be.”

“Tell me.”

“I will. All of it. Let’s go home, okay? Let’s get the hell out of this and go home.”

“Eli.” Vinnie walked quickly out of the interview room. “Hold up just a second.” He paused, taking a scan of Eli’s face. “How are you doing?”

“All in all? Good. It’s good to have it out, to start thinking it can be over.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Corbett wanted me to tell you, when he’s finished with Suskind, he’ll contact Wolfe directly. They’ll pick up Eden Suskind and talk to her. Corbett, if you want my opinion, is going to go into Boston to be in on that.”

“That’s for them. I’m out of it. None of it’s part of my life anymore. Thanks for your help, Vinnie.”

“Part of the job, but you could buy me a beer sometime.”

“As many as you want.”

Abra stepped around, took Vinnie’s face in her hands, laid her lips softly on his. “He’ll buy the beer, but that’s from me.”

“Might be better than beer.”

“Let’s go home,” Eli repeated. “This is done.”

But it wasn’t, not for him. Not quite.

The next morning, with Abra by his side, Eli sat across from Eden Suskind.

Though pale, she kept her gaze steady, her voice absolutely calm.

“I appreciate both of you coming into Boston this way. I know it’s an inconvenience.”

“You had something you wanted to say to me, to us,” Eli corrected.

“Yes. I could see when you came to my home the two of you had something strong between you. I’ve always believed in that, that bond, that connection, and the promises that come out of it. I built my adult life on that, only to have it broken. So I wanted to talk to both of you. I’ve been speaking with the police for some time now since last night, in the presence of my lawyer, of course.”

“That’s wise.”

“Justin hasn’t been, but then he’s always been impulsive, a little rash. I balanced that out, as I tend to think things through, weigh options. We were a good team for a long time. You understand what I mean about balance,” she said to Abra.

“Yes, I do.”

“I thought you would. Now that Justin has confessed to, well, so much, now that I know what he’s done, I can, and I want to, move on. I can’t protect him, balance him, hope that he’ll come to his senses again and put our family first. It’s never going to happen. The police believe he killed a man in cold blood.”

“Yes.”

“And he caused your grandmother serious injury.”

“Yes.”

“It’s his obsession. That’s not an excuse, but it’s simple fact. About three years ago his great-uncle died, and Justin found letters, a journal, all these things that connected his family to yours, and to that dowry.”

“Information about Violeta Landon, Nathanial Broome?”

“Yes. I don’t know much as he started hoarding it all, keeping it from me. Everything began to change from that point. He kept pushing, digging, paying heavy fees. I won’t bore you with problems Justin had in the past, his ability and need to blame others for failures or mistakes or shortcomings. But I’ll tell you that the more he learned about this part of his ancestry, the more he felt you and your family were to blame for everything he didn’t have that he wanted. More, when he learned I actually knew your wife, and worked with her from time to time, he saw it as a sign. Who knows? Maybe it was.”

“He pursued her.”

“Yes. I didn’t know to what extent. He deceived me there, and I think, honestly? He began to want her, to convince himself he loved her because she was yours. He wanted what was yours, and saw it as his right. I didn’t know about the property in Whiskey Beach, or the investigator, or the break-ins. I only knew, in those months before Lindsay’s death, my husband was slipping away from me, lying to me. I think we know, don’t we?” she said to Abra.

“Yes, we probably do.”

“I tried everything, and finally stopped arguing with him about the time, the money, and convinced myself to simply wait it out. He’d had obsessions before, pulled away a bit before, but he always settled back again.”

She paused a moment, tucked the swing of her hair behind her ear. “This time, it was different. He told me he was filing for divorce. Just like that, as if it was nothing but a formality. He didn’t want our life any longer, couldn’t pretend to love me any longer. Again, I won’t bore you, but he shattered me. We fought, and said terrible things, as people do, and he told me he’d been involved with Lindsay, that she was his soul mate—those hackneyed words—and that they intended to be together.”

“That must’ve been terribly hurtful,” Abra said when Eden fell silent.

“It was horrible. The worst moment of my life. Everything I loved and believed in was slipping through my fingers. He said we’d tell the children over the weekend so we’d have plenty of time with them to ease the blow, and in the meantime, he’d sleep in the guest room, and we’d maintain a civilized front. I swear to you, I could hear Lindsay’s words coming out of his mouth, her way, her tone. You understand me?” she asked Eli.

“Yeah, I do.”

Her shoulders very straight, she nodded. “What I say next is without my lawyer or the police present, without the record, but I feel you deserve to hear it, and for me to say it to you.”

“I know you killed her.”

“Aren’t you interested in knowing what happened that night? In knowing why and how?”

Before Eli could speak, Abra laid a hand over his. “I am. I’d like to know.”

“There’s that balance at work. You’d walk away because you’re so angry, and she’ll help you stay because knowing will help you close the door on this, as much as you ever will.”

“You had to confront her,” Abra began.

“Wouldn’t you? He called to tell me he’d changed his mind and we’d have to put off telling the children together for a few days. Lindsay was upset because she’d fought with you, Eli, and she needed to get away for a few days. He needed to be with her. She needed, he needed. Nothing his family needed. I think they brought out the worst in each other,” Eden said. “Their most selfish selves.”

“You may be right.” Eli turned his hand to hold Abra’s, and thought how lucky he was.

“So, yes, I went to confront her, to try to reason with her, even to plead with her. She was angry, very angry still over your confrontation, what you’d said to her. And, I think, looking back, maybe a little guilty. But not enough. She let me in, took me into the library because she wanted to finish it, clear the slate, so she and Justin could move on. Nothing I said made any difference to her. Our own friendship meant nothing, my children meant nothing, my marriage, or the hurt they were causing. I begged her not to take my husband, not to take the father of my children, and she told me to grow up. This was how things were, how things worked. She said horrible things to me, cruel things, vicious things, and she turned her back on me. She dismissed me and my pain as nothing.”

After a pause, Eden folded her hands on the table. “The rest blurs. It was like watching someone else, someone else who grabbed the poker and struck out. I lost my mind.”

“That might work,” Eli said evenly, “if your lawyer’s as good as you are.”

“He’s very good, but regardless, I never went into that house intending to harm her, but to plead with her. And when I regained my senses, when it was too late, I thought of my family, my children, and what this would mean. I couldn’t change what I’d done in that moment of insanity, and I could only try to protect my family. So I went home. I took the clothes I’d worn there and cut them up. I bagged the pieces, weighed them down and drove out to throw them in the river. Then I came back home, and I started dinner. When Justin came home, he was hysterical, so I realized we could protect each other, as it should be, as it’s meant to be, and we’d try to put it behind us and rebuild our marriage. I felt he needed me. Lindsay would have ruined him. In fact, she did. And what she left me was a man I couldn’t fix, couldn’t save. I let him go, and did what I had to do to protect myself.”