5 Murder by Syllabub (28 page)

N
oah stood in the doorway, ramrod straight. Anger, or maybe it was worry, made his words come out a little too loud. “What is going on? I thought I told you not to go prowling around, to go to bed.”

Cora Lee gave a little scream and grabbed Aunt Mary’s arm. Elizabeth grabbed the cane and whirled around, while Mildred, who evidently recognized her son’s voice,
sighed.

I wasn’t surprised to see Noah. I thought he’d show up, but it was the other person who got my full attention. “Dan! What are you doing here?” I flew past Noah and into his arms. I got my ribs squeezed and a most satisfactory kiss.

“Surprised?”

I wasn’t, very, but didn’t think it was a good idea to say so. “I can’t believe it. I’m so glad you’re here.” I hugged him back.

“We found the tea set.” Cora Lee completely ignored Noah’s scolding and Dan’s and my reunion. There was jubilation in her voice as she held up the cream pitcher for them to see. “Now what do you think Leo McMann’s going to say?”

“That you just
disturbed a crime scene and if there are fingerprints or DNA or any other kind of evidence on that creamer, you’ve ruined them.”

Cora Lee let her hand drop. She stared down at the creamer, then at Noah. “Oh.”

The expression on Dan’s face plainly said he didn’t think we’d ruined anything. Neither did I. Noah was simply having a stress attack. While I didn’t blame him, I also had no intention of cowering before him and saw no reason any of the others should either. I didn’t care a fig for Lt. McMann’s crime scene. If, indeed, it extended to this old house, he should have taped it off and searched it. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Noah,” I said. “If it’s possible to get fingerprints off that thing, then all they have to do is take Cora Lee’s and they can tell which are which. Surely your fingerprint people can do that.”

Noah flushed.
I could see it in his earlobes. “Of course they can. That’s not the point. You had no business breaking in here.”

“Breaking in!” Elizabeth had been studying Dan but now aimed all her fury at Noah.
“This is
my
house and I have every right to go where I please. I’m sick and tired of playing these stupid games. People prowling my hallways at night, leaving dead bodies all over the place. It’s going to stop and it’s going to stop now.” She wheeled around and confronted Dan. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“He’s Dan Dunham, Ellen’s husband and Santa Louisa’s Chief of Police. I don’t know why he’s here.” Aunt Mary walked up and hugged him. She got hugged back. “I’m so glad to see you, but why are you here?”

“Thought I’d give you folks a hand. Sounded like you might need one.” He extended his hand to Elizabeth who, surprisingly, took it. “You must be Elizabeth Smithwood. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

“How did you get here?” It finally dawned on me
that we were a long way from the nearest airport.

“Noah picked me up. We’ve been talking and agreed my coming might be a good idea.”

They had? Dan hadn’t told me. I wasn’t sure I liked that. However, I had other things to worry about. Mildred started to sway. “Oh, no, you don’t.” I grabbed her arm. Aunt Mary grabbed the other, and we turned her so she could sink down into the Windsor chair at the head of the table.

H
ands on her hips, Aunt Mary said, “I knew we shouldn’t have let you come. We’ve made you do too much.”

“As if you could have stopped me. It’s my husband lying there in that kitchen, or what’s left of him, and this is what he’s supposed to have stolen. You think a little head injury will stop me from helping to clear his name?” Mildred glared at Noah. “Why you’re not helping, I don’t know.”

“Mom.” That was as far as Noah got.

“And another thing.” She swayed a little in her chair and put her hand up to touch the white bandage still plastered across the side of her dark head. “I’m going to need some Tylenol pretty quick, but first, there’s something I don’t understand.”

“There’s a whole lot I don’t understand.” Elizabeth shook her head and looked around. “I need to sit.” She looked dubiously at one of the benches, but the need to get off her feet seemed greater than her reluctance to sit on so much dust. She pulled the bench out and blew on it. The dust didn’t budge. She gave up and sank down on it anyway.

“What don’t you understand?”
I said.

“Why did they leave the tea set behind?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” I hadn’t meant to say that, but I’d been trying to work all this out and that point seemed clear, even if a lot of the others didn’t.

“Of course it is. I’m Cora Lee Whittingham, by the way.” She dimpled at Dan, who smiled back, nodded and held me a little closer. “As for the tea set, Ellen will explain all that.” Cora Lee sank down on the bench beside Elizabeth, but she went down slowly
, mouth twisted in distaste. Evidently pain triumphed over concern for subjecting those lovely wool pants to the filth on the bench.

“Okay
,” Dan said to me. “Why do you think they didn’t take the tea set?”

“They couldn’t.” I’d been working this out and spoke with some confidence. “I think shooting Louis wasn’t in the plan.
He must have surprised the thief, probably in the act of putting it into the sack, and got shot. When they realized he was dead, they had to figure out what to do, and quick. They could hardly leave him on the floor. He had to disappear, but they couldn’t drag him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, so they buried him there and hid the tea set in this room. No one came in here anymore, and when they did, they didn’t search in cabinets or anything. As long as the set didn’t surface, everyone would think Louis stole it and it would be easy to come back when it was safe to get it.”

“
That cabinet isn’t my idea of a hiding place.”

“Elizabeth, think.” Cora Lee had that jubilant look again. “What were they
… they?” She looked at me.

I shrugged. “Almost had to be. I don’t think one person could have done all that.
”

Cora Lee nodded agreement. “Right. What were they going to do? They
’d just shot a man. Someone else could show up at any moment. They must have been sweating bullets the whole time they dug that hole and buried him.”

Aunt Mary
put one hand on Mildred’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. Mildred’s hand flew up to clutch Aunt Mary’s.

“I still don’t know why they didn’t take the tea set with them.” Mildred’s eyes went from one face to the next, anxiously demanding an answer.

Noah had been listening to all this with a passive face. His voice betrayed him. “The reason they didn’t take it the day they killed my father was because they didn’t want it on them if they got stopped. They were on private property, coming and going out a gate they had no business being near. They had already hung around a lot longer than they intended and were taking no chances. They may have planned to come back later to retrieve it or at least hide it better, but, Ellen, you’re probably right. They no longer had access. Cora Lee and Mrs. Smithwood had locked up this house, and no one had any interest in unlocking it.”

“I think Noah’s right. As is my beautiful wife. All
that’s left for us to do is find out who ‘they’ are.”

I smiled. It was nice Dan thought I was beautiful. I liked that he’d said “
us” even better.

“Ellen will think of a way.” Cora Lee’s confidence might be misplaced.

“That’s what had me worried enough to fly out here.” Hm. Nice he was worried about me, however …

I frowned. He smiled. Aunt Mary grinned. I glared at her, too. However, Cora Lee was right. I had thought of
a way.

“First thing we’re going to do is inventory the tea set
,” I said. “Cora Lee, see if it’s all here.”

I didn’t think Cora Lee was going to comply. She stared at me and then at the pieces spread over the wood floor, then at everyone else. No one offered to help. Finally, holding onto her cane, she knelt down, ignoring the accumulation of years of dust on the wooden floorboards.
Lips pressed tightly together, she started to go through the pieces. She picked up the silver tray first, black with tarnish, and set it in front of her. The coffeepot was next, then another pot—smaller and more slender. Tea? Chocolate? I wasn’t sure. A creamer came next, then a small bowl, used for lemon slices? I had no idea. Then the last piece. A shell-shaped spoon.

A sugar spoon, but no sugar bowl.

Cora Lee sat back on her heels, gave a little groan of pain and struggled to her feet. “The sugar bowl is missing.”

Aunt Mary nodded. “Yes. It is.” She looked at me speculatively, one eyebrow raised.

I shrugged.

She frowned.

Noah suddenly seemed to remember he was a policeman. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s police business. Murder, theft. I have to tell McMann.”

“He did nothing to help when your father disappeared. He’ll do nothing to help now. I say let’s see what we can find out first.” There was a little more color in Mildred’s cheeks and a very different look in her eyes. They bored into Noah, willing him to do as she wanted. “Besides, Ellen already knows who it is, don’t you?”

“No. At least, not exactly. It’s just an idea. Mildred’s right, though. Let’s wait. I wouldn’t be surprised if something happened pretty soon.”

“What have you done?” There was wariness in Dan’s voice as well as a little resignation
.

“Hardly anything.”

“What does that mean?”

“What’s going to happen?” Cora Lee sounded apprehensive.

“I made a phone call.”

“Who to?” Elizabeth was the only one who didn’t sound apprehensive. She sounded confused. Understandably. She hadn’t been privy to the small but
key fact I’d discovered.

“I found some papers. I think they’re Monty’s.” I stopped for a moment, listening. Was that a footstep? Soft, a scuffing sound, the kind a leather boot might make on a wooden stair. No. All was quiet.

The moment of stunned silence was broken by the voices of everyone in the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dan demanded

“I tried but you didn’t answer your phone. You were on an airplane. Remember?”

Dan grinned. “So I was.”

“What papers?” Elizabeth sounded wary.

“Ones I found in Cora Lee’s secret drawer.”

“My secret drawer?” Cora Lee’s eyes searched my face.

Elizabeth snorted in exasperation. “Ellen, for heaven’s sake. This is starting to sound more like a Nancy Drew novel every minute. Hidden doors, secret drawers, ghosts who prowl the hallways. Would you mind explaining what’s going on?”

“Where did you find these papers?” Noah’s surprise had given way to a kind of wariness. His mouth was set in a straight line and tight little creases formed at the corners of his eyes as he narrowed them. He walked across the room, barely glancing at the silver set, and stood behind his mother, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Where Monty hid them, in an eighteenth-century hiding place.”

Noah stopped for a moment. It was as if he wanted to ask what that meant, but he didn’t. “Did you read them?”

“I looked through them. Enough to get an idea of what they
contained.”

“Enough to tell you who the murderer is?”

“Oh, no.” I tried to smile, not very successfully. “Although, they were certainly interesting.”

A plainly exasperated Elizabeth blurted out, “Then what did?”

“Spoons.”

“I
’m delighted you found them interesting, even if they weren’t informative.”

The voice came from the open doorway that led into the passageway. The sight of the elegant gentleman, alpaca overcoat worn casually over a dark gray handmade suit, reduced us to stunned silence. That, and the look on his face. Last time I’d seen him, he
’d looked confident, almost arrogant. Not tonight. His face was haggard, drawn. Stress lines showed around his eyes as he walked farther into the room and paused before me.

“However, I’m afraid I must ask you for them. They belong to me, you see.”

“Who are you?” Dan pulled me a little closer to him but shifted his weight so that he was balanced on both feet. Why, I wondered but found myself doing the same.

“Payton Culpepper. And you are?”

“Daniel Dunham, Chief of Police of Santa Louisa California and Ellen’s husband. Just what papers are you referring to? How do you know my wife has them, and why should we think they belong to you?”

“Too many questions, Mr. Chief of Police. They’re mine, she has them
, and I want them back.” Payton sounded forceful, almost arrogant, but there was a twitch in his right eye as he looked around at our little group that belied that impression.

“
Good evening, Payton. I believe you know everyone else here.” I sounded amazingly confident as I greeted him. But then, he wasn’t the one I was worried about.

G
lancing again at our group, Payton sucked in his breath as he caught sight of the tea set still lying on the dirt floor. He seemed to shudder a little as he tore his eyes away from it and addressed us as a group. “I had no idea you were having a party. You could have chosen a better spot for it. However, I would be obliged if you”—his eyes fixed on me and narrowed slightly—“would hand over the papers you found. I don’t have much time.” 

“How do we know that?”
There was grit in Dan’s voice. I wasn’t sure if his irritation was directed at Payton or me for getting us into this mess.

Payton’s smile was cold
and his hand dropped oh so casually into his right-hand coat pocket. A chill went through me as I saw that side of his coat sag a little. “I’d hoped your lovely wife would cooperate without a fuss.” He looked around the room. The muscles around his mouth tightened more. “I wasn’t expecting a party.”

“How do we know these papers are yours?” Aunt Mary sounded a whole lot calmer than I felt
as she repeated Dan’s question.

She sat calmly on one filthy bench, Elizabeth and Cora Lee on the opposite one, immobile. Mildred was in the Windsor chair, Noah behind her, hand clutching her shoulder.
Dan and I stood almost in the middle of the room, far too close to Payton. He kept his hand in his overcoat pocket, wiggling something in there as he continued to survey the room. He was making me nervous. Dan, however, did not flinch.

“Can you identify those papers, Mr
.—Culpepper, isn’t it? Tell us what’s so important about them? I’d hate to have my wife give them to the wrong person.”

“They have Mont
gomery Eslick’s name on them, and my firm’s as well. Is that enough for you?” He took a step closer to us. I stepped back, trying in vain to drag Dan with me. He seemed as rooted to the floor as a tree trunk.

“What’s so important about those papers, Mr. Culpepper? There must be something to send you all the way out here to get them at this late hour.”

Since when was nine o’clock late? The hour, however, wasn’t important. The fact that Dan was prodding Payton was.

“Why was Monty blackmailing you? He
was
blackmailing you, wasn’t he?” I gulped before I said that. Payton still had his hand in his pocket and I knew Dan was watching him closely. But we weren’t getting anywhere with Payton and Dan trying to stare each other down.

“It seems you took the time to look through the documents.” Payton’s lips barely moved.

“All those deposits from your law firm into Monty’s account were hard to miss. Only, they were labeled ‘payments for lobbying.’ Monty wasn’t a lobbyist.”

“He was an attorney. I hired him to work for my firm, at double the going rate, to keep his practice alive. Only, he never did the work. The little rat took my money and the clients’ money and never did one damn thing.”

“What do bank statements have to do with this?” Elizabeth had been following the conversation intently. Curiosity and a little trepidation were written all over her face.

“None of your business.”
Payton didn’t bother to turn his head.

“Let me guess.”
I’d been thinking a lot about this and was pretty sure I knew what had happened. Or at least, a lot of it.

“
I’d just as soon you didn’t.” Dan tightened his arm around my waist. “However, you’re going to anyway, so go on.”

Dan and I had discussed the possibility Monty had been blackmailing someone about something, but this was before I’d discovered the papers. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Dan about them and I could tell h
e was curious. More than curious. I decided to see if my theory was correct, hoping that the object in Payton’s pocket was no more dangerous than a handkerchief. Dan still had his arm around me and he gave me a little squeeze. It gave me a little courage, so I let his arm stay where it was and actually leaned into it a little. “Monty had two sets of books. The ones he gave the auditors didn’t show any payments from you. They showed on your books, though. Monty was supposed to account for that money, give you detailed accounts of how he spent every penny. You told the auditors for those clients bringing charges that you hired Monty. Unless you could come up with
this
set of papers, showing he received the deposits from your firm, you couldn’t prove it. You weren’t only on the hook for the money, you might end up in jail.”

All eyes shifted from me to Payton, who said nothing. He continued to stare at me. His
hand stayed in his pocket but his eye twitch intensified.

“Is that why you killed him?” asked Cora Lee.

“You have that part wrong. I didn’t kill him.” He glanced over at her for a moment, then his eyes shifted to Mildred, who sat rigid, staring at him as if he really was a ghost. “I didn’t kill Louis, either. Please believe that, Mrs. Longo. I’m terribly sorry about what happened to Louis, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“You know who did.” Noah wasn’t asking a question. “How? How do you know?”

Payton ignored him. “Mrs. Dunham, I don’t have all night. I need those papers now, so shall we go get them?”

“If I say no?”

“Ellen,” There was a warning in Dan’s tone, but I chose to ignore it, at least for right now. Something else was going to happen, at least I hoped it was, and I wanted a little time.

Payton
sucked in a deep breath, which he let out quickly. His eye twitched again. “Why would you not? I didn’t kill Monty, although he asked for it often enough. I’ve never killed anyone and believe me, I don’t want to start now.” His hand was still jammed in his pocket. I abandoned hope that all he had in there was a handkerchief. I glanced up at Dan. He eyes were also on Payton’s pocket and he didn’t look happy. I could see the outline of Payton’s fist tighten as he went on.

“Monty cheated me and I don’t want to go to jail for something I didn’t do. So,
if you’ll please get them for me …”

I glanced up once more at Dan. I didn’t know what to do. There was no real reason for me not to get them, but the thought of walking back through the dark to Elizabeth’s house, going upstairs followed by Payton gave me the creeps.

“I don’t have much time, Mrs. Dunham. I want those bank statements and I want them now.” Payton was losing patience, fast. His voice rose, and his gaze shifted around the room, stopped once more at the tea set before returning to me. Maybe I was imagining it, but this time I heard a threat in his voice. “
Now
, Mrs. Dunham. If you don’t want to get them for me, perhaps Mrs. McGill will oblige. She seems to be familiar with their existence.”

Aunt Mary gasped.

A woman’s voice said, “For God’s sake, is that the best you can do? You never could do anything right.”

Payton swung around,
his hand out of his pocket and carrying the object I had been afraid of. A not very big but very lethal looking gun. Acting as though by instinct, Dan released me and pushed me toward the table. I scrambled under it. Cora Lee got there ahead of me. I grabbed Aunt Mary’s ankle and give a tug. She dropped off the bench and under the table in one move. Elizabeth scooted off the bench and wiggled feet first under the table. The bench went over with a crash, followed by the chair. Mildred and Noah joined us. I was pushed out the other side of the table, almost under the upturned bench, Cora Lee’s cane entangled in my legs. I rolled over a little and peeked around the table leg. Hattie, mobcap slightly askew and still wearing her colonial dress and greasy apron, pointed a small colonial pistol at Dan. I gasped. Why Dan?

“Mother. What are you doing here?” Payton started to lower his gun and took a step forward. He stopped abruptly. Hattie changed direction and pointed her gun right at him
.

I got to my knees, dragging Cora Lee’s cane behind me, then squatted back on my heels, using the cane as a prop. Hattie looked way too comfortable with the gun and I wanted to be able to dive back under the table quickly. Even more, I wanted Dan under the table with me. In the meantime, I had a front row seat at an interesting little drama.

Mother and son faced each other, each holding a gun. Hattie looked ridiculous with the little silver pistol but Payton didn’t.

“You
were going to turn me in, is that right?” Hattie put her other hand up to steady the gun. It was pointed directly at Payton’s chest.

“I wasn’t. Now I’m not so sure.” Payton looked at his mother as if he couldn’t quite believe what he saw.

“After all these years. After all I’ve done for you.”

“After all you’ve done for me?” Payton’s voice, tight with anger, rose a little, and his gun dropped a little more. “I’m not the one who stole all those things. I’m not the one who fenced Smithwood silver for Monty, and I’m not the one who shot Louis.”

There was a soft moan from under the table. Mildred. There was nothing any of us could do for her right now.

The quarrel between Hattie and Payton intensified. A flush rose up the back of Payton’s neck and veins started to stand out.

Hattie only got cooler, calmer, almost icy. “I wouldn’t have had to shoot Louis if you had helped me.”

“Helped you! I covered up for you for years. You and Monty pilfering stuff from this place, trying to pass it off as Culpepper antiques. Culpepper. The family name. The real Culpeppers wouldn’t know you, or me, and certainly not my father, if they fell over us in an alley. He wasn’t one of them. He was a thief. He died in jail. Well, I’m not going to jail. Not for you and certainly not for a name that means nothing. You hear? Nothing.” Payton’s voice rose with each sentence. The last word came out as a shout. The veins in his neck throbbed. The twitch over his eye danced in double time.

Hattie became very still. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth pinched and a little tremor seemed to run through her. “Take it back. Take it all back. You’re a Culpepper.”

“So you’ve told me, for years. Over and over.”

“Then start to act like one.”

“I have no idea what that means. I’ve never met a real Culpepper. You’re not one. You think you’re ‘gentry.’ You’re not even close.” Payton’s hand, the one with the gun, dropped down to his side and his other went up to his face. He rubbed his eyes.

That was when she shot him.

Payton dropped for what seemed an eternity. His white shirt front turned red. His soft overcoat billowed out around him and, as he sank to the floor, covered him like a shroud.

“My God! How could you?” Noah was beside me on his hands and knees, staring at Payton, then up at Hattie.

“Don’t move, Noah, I wouldn’t mind in the least shooting you, too.”

“With what?” he said. “That little popgun only has one bullet and it’s gone. Come on, Hattie. Hand it over. That’s a good girl.” His hand went under his jacket for his gun. Not quickly enough.

Instead of handing over the gun, Hattie threw it at Noah’s head. It missed him by inches, but it kept him from reaching
for his and gave Hattie just enough time to dive for the revolver Payton had dropped. Dan tackled her, but she’d already gotten the gun.

She lay on the wood floor beside her bleeding son, pointing the revolver at Noah.

“Get off my legs, you oaf. If you don’t, I’ll shoot Noah. Even if I miss, I’ll get one of them.”

Unfortunately, she just might. Everyone but Mildred was now on the wrong side of the overturned table, staring in disbelief at Hattie
.

One look at her face made me a believer. Contorted with rage, eyes blazing, mob cap clinging to one side of her head, Hattie looked like the woodcuts I’d seen of the mad people in Bellevue. Moving wasn’t an option. Only, neither was crouching
there and giving Hattie a chance to shoot someone. Anyone. Dan. I inched the cane up a little, hoping Hattie wouldn’t notice.