For Every Evil (26 page)

Sophie didn’t know how to respond.

“I thought I’d have an opportunity to talk to him about it, but he … died before I had the chance.”

“Have the police been here to see you?”

“Yes. Yesterday. But I didn’t show it to them. I didn’t think it was any of their business. Now, I’m not so sure I did the right thing. You were Hale’s friend. What do you think it means? Did I make a mistake not telling them?”

“I don’t know,” said Sophie, struggling to make sense of it. As she leaned forward in her chair, she remembered something Kate had said. Lasix was the drug that was mistakenly put into Ivy’s pillbox several weeks ago. She could have died if it hadn’t been discovered. Kate thought it was a clear attempt on Ivy’s life, just like the shots that were fired. She was sure the two events were connected. And, more to the point, she thought Hale was responsible. If she was right, perhaps Betty’s discovery was proof of Hale’s involvement. He had been trying to murder his wife — and here was the evidence. But why would he hide something so incriminating in a sack and then give it away? It didn’t make sense. It seemed even less likely he’d forget where he’d stashed the evidence. And why would he save it in the first place? Unless … Sophie looked up and saw Betty watching her. She knew she had to say something.

“What are you thinking?” asked the elderly woman.

Sophie shook her head. What if Hale hadn’t known what was in the bottom of that sack? Maybe someone had planted it there to incriminate him, not knowing he was about to give it away. If that was true, then the next logical question was, who did it? It seemed likely it was the same person who’d made two unsuccessful attempts on Ivy’s life. And that person had to have access to Hale’s and Ivy’s personal belongings — even if only briefly. But who? As she mulled it over, the name Charles Squire came to mind. He certainly had access to the gate house. Depending on where Hale had stored the shopping bag, he might well have had plenty of opportunity. But what was his motive? Why would he want to incriminate Hale for the attempted murder of his wife? Or worse, why would he want to murder Ivy?

“I think you should put this box away for now,” said Sophie, trying not to upset her any further. “I have some ideas, but I’m not sure where they lead. I’ll have to do some checking. In the meantime, you should keep it safe.”

“All right,” said Betty, placing the box on the table and pushing it away with obvious distaste. “I was thinking of just dumping it in the trash.”

“No, don’t do that. It may be important.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, look at the time! My youngest grandson should be here any minute. He’s taking me to lunch.”

Sophie felt it was her cue to leave. Still, she had one last question that hadn’t been answered. Before rising from her chair, she asked, “Betty, I’m curious. Were you surprised by what Hale did — leaving you the majority of his estate?”

“Surprised? I was shocked! I realize Ivy must be awfully upset, but I assume Hale left her well provided for in other ways. I don’t have any idea why he did it. Perhaps she does.”

Sophie assumed Ivy had a pretty good idea.

“I hope she doesn’t … think ill of me.”

Before Sophie could reassure her, the phone on the end table began to ring.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” asked Betty, picking it up. “Hello?” she said, patting her dog’s head absently as she listened. “Oh, hello, Ivy! Yes … yes, I recognize your voice. This
is
a surprise. When? Why, yes. That would be lovely. Seven o’clock.” She paused. “Oh, I’m sure I could get one of my grandsons to bring me.” Another pause. “I see. What was that name again?” She listened more carefully, closing her eyes. “I have it. Dr. Steinhardt. Yes, I remember him. He was the man you were with at the lawyer’s office. Well, that would be wonderful if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” She nodded. “Good, then I’ll look forward to it. Thank you for the invitation. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” She placed the receiver back on the hook.

“I take it you’re being invited to dinner.”

Betty nodded, looking a bit perplexed. “I never expected something like that.”

For a fleeting second, Sophie had the urge to tell her not to go.

“You know,” said Betty, “for a woman who’s spent so many years living alone, ignored for the most part by the rest of the world, this is all beginning to feel like,

well, like an adventure.” She winked, her eyes taking on a mischievous twinkle.

Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. She was beginning to get an idea why Hale had loved this woman so much.

“I wonder why that Dr. Steinhardt is with Ivy all the time. He came to the reading of the will on Wednesday, and he’s picking me up tomorrow night. I hope she isn’t sick.”

“I hope so, too,” said Sophie. At Hale’s funeral, Ivy had looked remarkably well. Better than she’d looked in years. None of this was adding up. Perhaps it was time to pay Ivy a visit. Since Sophie didn’t have to be to the office until after lunch, and Ivy’s home was only a few blocks away, now was the perfect opportunity. “Well,” she said, with one last glance at the paintings, “this has been enlightening. You saw a part of Hale he rarely showed to the world.”

“I know,” said Betty, her voice once again sad. “He was a complex man. I may not have understood him, but I loved him. And for me, that was enough.”

“Sophie!” said Ivy, a look of surprise on her face as she opened the front door. She glanced a bit anxiously over her shoulder. “How … nice to see you.” Her smile was something less than sincere.

“May I come in?” asked Sophie, wondering at Ivy’s hesitation. “If this is a bad time —”

“No.” She said the word much too quickly. “Of course not. I was just … I mean …” Again, she attempted a smile. “Please.” She held the door open wide. “Actually, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

Sophie had a good idea who that might be. She stepped into the foyer and waited while Ivy closed and locked the door behind them. Then she followed her back to the atrium. The glass-enclosed space contained at least twenty huge cactus plants in bright Mexican pots. Near the rear of the room, a man was standing with his back to her. He was reading a newspaper, one hand massaging the back of his neck. As they entered, he turned. His hair was gray, his face angular. He wasn’t exactly handsome, though the quality of health he projected was very attractive. He had on a suit, but had taken off the jacket and rolled up the cuffs of his tight blue, Oxford cloth shirt.

“Sophie,” said Ivy, “I’d like you to meet Dr. Max Steinhardt.”

Max moved toward her, his hand extended. “Very nice to meet you,” he said, his voice full of enthusiasm.

For some reason, Sophie felt as if she were being ushered into
The Price Is Right.
Max had the distinct air of a game show host.

“Ivy’s told me a bit about you and your husband,” he continued, pumping her arm. “And of course, I’ve been reading your restaurant reviews in the
Times Register
for as long as you’ve been writing them. Very commendable job. Very commendable, indeed. And even though I rarely get time to listen to morning radio, I’ve also enjoyed your husband’s show on occasion.”

“Thanks,” said Sophie, glancing at their locked hands.

Instantly, he let go.

“Max has been a friend as well as my personal physician for several years,” said Ivy, as if answering an unasked question. “Since Hale’s death, he’s been a dear. I’m afraid he comes whenever I call.”

Really? thought Sophie. That
was
a good friend. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Tired,” said Ivy, “though Max says that’s to be expected.”

“A death in the family isn’t the easiest of times,” he replied, giving Sophie a doctorly frown. He folded the paper and sat down on the white wicker sofa.

Sophie made herself comfortable in one of the matching wicker chairs. So much for introductions.

“To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” asked Ivy. She slid down next to him, making sure their bodies weren’t too close. But close enough.

No matter. Sophie had already caught the scent. The vibes were unmistakable. Ivy and Max were lovers. This put everything in a very different light. She wondered how long the affair had been going on — and if Hale had known. “Well,” she began, “I was visiting someone else in your neighborhood.” She paused for effect. “Betty Malmquist.”

First Ivy responded. “Betty Malmquist, you say?”

Next Max. “How interesting.”

Again, Ivy. “I suppose you’ve . .. heard about, well, about what Hale did? Leaving his entire estate to her?”

Max patted Ivy’s hand. “Wills can be broken. Don’t worry.”

Sophie wondered if the faint sound she was hearing was teeth grinding.

“So,” said Ivy, her voice taking on a fake lightness, “how is Betty?”

“She’s fine.”

“Have you known each other long?” asked Max.

“No. We’d never met before today.”

“Really?” He glanced questioningly at Ivy. “Was it … a social call then?”

“I suppose you could say that. I don’t know if you two are aware of this, but die police seem to think my son had something to do with Hale’s murder. I’m positive that’s not the case, but since I’m not entirely impressed with the direction of their investigation, I’ve decided to do a bit of checking on my own.”

“You think Betty had something to do with Hale’s death?” asked Max.

“No, of course not. But I’ve been trying to talk with people who knew Hale. I thought I might get a better idea of who might want to … see him harmed.”

“Have you found out anything?” asked Ivy. This time, her manner seemed more sincere. She sat forward, waiting for a response.

“I have some ideas,” said Sophie, “but I’m not sure where they lead.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, I was talking with Ben Kiran the other evening. He was at the party the night Hale died. It seems he first met Hale — as well as you, Ivy — at a summer camp many years ago. It was the same summer a boy disappeared. Eric Hauley. Do you remember him?”

The corners of Ivy’s mouth turned down. “Why … yes. A very sad time. Why do you bring it up?”

“Hale received a note at the party from a man named Ezmer Hawks.”

“The artist?”

Sophie nodded. “It directed him to call the police and confess to something he’d done — something in his past. Hawks was at the party that night, Ivy. And the note was a clear threat.”

“You think he killed my husband?”

“It’s possible.”

“But … how did you know about the note?”

“I found it by the back door of your house. The police have it now.”

Her eyes flicked to Max. “What’s this got to do with Camp Bright Water?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I —” She pulled nervously on her pearl necklace. “I can’t imagine.”

Sophie was sure Ivy knew more than she was letting on. “Perhaps I should tell you that Mr. Hawks has been sending some of his new work to the Chappeldine Gallery. Hale had stopped by to see it several times. One of the drawings is a sphinx with fire between its paws. A boy’s face appears in the fire.”

Ivy’s entire body stiffened. “A … sphinx you say?”

“Sounds like a load of nonsense to me,” muttered Max. “Don’t worry. The police will make sense of it — if there’s any sense to be made.”

Sophie kept her eyes on Ivy. “The note also contained part of a nursery rhyme. ‘For every evil under the sun — ’“

Ivy’s hand flew to her mouth.

Max put his arm around her, patting her shoulder. “Sophie, I think this is too upsetting right now. Perhaps we could change the subject.”

“Of course.”

“No, I’m fine,” said Ivy, brushing a tentative hand over her face. “Really.”

“What else did you and Betty talk about?” asked Max, resuming a more casual tone.

“Well, did you know Hale was saving up presents to give to Betty? He’d been storing them in a shopping bag.”

Ivy and Max exchanged glances.

“What’s your point?” asked Max, a bit of the warmth leaving his voice.

“After Betty received them, she noticed that at the bottom of the sack was a small brown box. It wasn’t wrapped like the rest. Inside she found rifle shells, Lasix, and arsenic.”

Ivy sat up very straight. “I don’t understand.”

“Betty doesn’t, either,” said Sophie.

As if picking up a cue, Max said, “The police were right! They thought Hale was responsible for those attempts on Ivy’s life. As far as I’m concerned, we now have proof!”

“I’m not so sure,” said Sophie, sensing she was about to make an enemy of the good doctor. “I mean, just think about it. Why would he hide incriminating evidence in a sack and then give it away? And why would he save it in the first place?”