Look Both Ways (25 page)

“Huh! Bernie Madoff is a two-bit piker compared to me. I need money. Lots of it. I have appearances to keep up. I'm John David Hampton the Third. But I have to put it all back, or the bastards are going to turn me in. I've been trying to pay it. Selling my things. Humiliating! But it's not enough. Tell me where my diamond is.”

“What about Shea?” I asked. “Did you think she had it?”

“Oh, she had what looked like a pink diamond on a chain, all right. Showed it to me. Then she laughed. Said she'd bought the bureau fair and square and everything in it was hers.” His lips stretched in an ugly sneer. “Then she turned her back on me. Big mistake.”

“Tell me something, Tripp,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. “Why did you take the index card with my name on it? And how did you get it into Tommy Trent's bureau?”

“Pretty smart, huh? I'm no dummy, Lee. I had top marks in school, you know. I was pretty sure that the card had the name of whoever bought Helena's bureau.” He laughed again. “Lucky you, Lee!”

“I know you're smart,” I said. “But I don't understand about the card and the work order winding up with Tommy. Was he helping you?”

His face grew red. “Tommy? Helping
me?
That moron? Of course not. I put the card under the drawer liner when I went to check out the apartment, to be sure darling Daphne would be safe there. Then I picked the very simple lock at Bob's and grabbed the folder I wanted. Planted it in the Mercedes. Easy stuff. You can learn more at private school than calculus and Western civilization, you know.”

“You wanted Tommy to go back to jail. Why?”

“That simpleminded oaf would undo all the progress I've made with Daphne. She's almost ready for polite society. She's my creation. All my doing!” He leaned down again, his face close to mine. “And I intend to keep her. Now, tell me where my diamond is, Lee. Right now.”

“Why should I? Are you planning to kill me?”

“Of course not. What kind of gentleman would do a thing like that? No. But if you don't tell me, I'm going to kill your cat. See?” He reached behind the chair and lifted a cat carrier so that I could see the limp form of O'Ryan, his eyes closed, lying inside. “Oh, don't worr y,” Tripp said, shaking the carrier. “He's not dead . . . yet. It took only a little whiff of chloroform to knock him out. But the pool water will revive him, just before he drowns.” Tripp giggled. A hideous sound. “I know you'll do anything for the stupid animal, won't you? Just like Helena. She cared more for that stupid dog than she ever did for me.”

I strained at whatever was binding my hands. It felt sticky.
Duct tape,
I guessed, and the water Tripp had poured on me was beginning to loosen it.
Stall him,
I thought.
River will know something's wrong when I'm not there. She'll call Pete.

“Well?” He held the carrier over his head. “Shall I throw it in? Or are you going to tell me where my diamond is?”

“Wait! Don't hurt O'Ryan,” I yelled. “I'll tell you.”

Again the sick smile. “Hollering like that won't do you any good. Daphne can't hear you. She's sleeping with good old Tommy tonight. No one can hear you.” Again Tripp lifted the carrier, shaking it back and forth. I saw O'Ryan's legs move. The big cat was waking up. “Where's my diamond?”

“Okay. I know where it is, but I don't know how you're going to get to it.”

I kept straining at the duct tape and spoke slowly. “Do you know where Helena's grandfather's summer place was, Tripp?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I do. It was on that godforsaken island. Misery. Well named.”

The tape was loosening. I kept talking. “That was a very special place to Helena. She used to go out there every summer to plant pansies. Do you remember that?”

“She tried to make me go with her. I hated that boat of hers. I was glad when Tommy sold it.” He laughed out loud, and it was then that I heard the tinkling sound of glass breaking.

I spoke louder then, and more rapidly, to cover the cracking noise, hoping he hadn't heard it, too. It had to mean someone else was there. I talked about Nicky dying and about Helena buying a metal coffin for him.

Tripp put the carrier down beside the chair and leaned closer to me. “Get to the point, damn it.”

I'd worked one hand loose. “She put the real diamond in the casket with the dog. That's where it is now. In Nicky's metal casket.” Behind my back, I picked at the remaining tape with my free hand. It was then that I saw the first cat. It was black, and it came silently through a small jagged opening in the glass wall. Then came another. And another. I kept talking, and the cats kept coming. “The casket is buried on the island,” I said. “You'll see a chimney.”

Tripp's eyes were focused on me now. I described the granite step, the wild rosebushes, everything I could think of, to hold his interest, to tell him exactly how to locate the grave. I felt the last of the tape give. Both hands were free, but I kept them behind my back. I tried not to look at the parade of cats, tried to keep Tripp's attention on me.

O'Ryan's yowl was long and loud. The cats silently surged forward, and Tripp saw them then. His eyes widened, and his mouth formed a silent O. He backed away from me, from the carrier, making a whimpering noise. I reached down and released the latch on the carrier door, and Tripp made no move to stop me. Through the opening in the glass wall, they kept coming. Gray cats, tabby cats, Siamese cats, white cats, bobtail cats. There must have been hundreds of them. O'Ryan stepped out of the carrier and joined them as they crept soundlessly, eyes glowing, ever closer to the man, yet not touching him. I heard a splash when he fell in the water. I looked back as I ran for the door leading to the ice cream parlor. Rows of cats surrounded the huge pool on every side, mutely watching the screaming man as he flailed about. A black cat wearing a red collar separated from the rest and raced ahead of me through the pink and white room and out into the maze of hallways.

The black cat stopped, turned, and looked at me. A voice called, “Follow me, Lee,” just as it had in the dream. I ran, following the cat through the labyrinth of corridors and hallways. Here and there I spotted a tiny bit of blue tape along the baseboards. We reached the mansion's entrance hall, and I twisted the knob on the massive front door and stepped out into the summer night and freedom. The black cat stood in the doorway, watching me as I ran down the curving driveway to Daphne's cottage.

Daphne's door was still unlocked. I let myself in and looked around. I didn't dare to turn on the lights. What if Tripp had climbed out of the pool and was looking for me? I saw a faint glow coming from somewhere beyond the living room and followed it. There was a small night-light shaped like a crucifix over Daphne's bed. Next to the bed was the pink Princess phone she'd told me about. I called 911.

Things moved fast after that. Sirens blared, and a parade of police cars proceeded up the long driveway. As soon as I saw the flashing lights, I went outside and waved one of the police cars down.

“I'm Lee Barrett,” I told the uniformed officer. “Tripp Hampton is in the main house. He's in the pool. He killed Helena Trent and Shea Tolliver.”

“You're soaking wet, miss. You'd better get in the cruiser.” He held the door open for me. “We've been looking for you for an hour.”

I sat shivering in the backseat while the officer used his radio. “Detective?” he said. “I've got the lady you're looking for. She's right here in my backseat. Here. I'll let you talk to her.” He handed me the microphone.

“Lee? Are you all right?” Pete's voice broke.

I was so relieved to hear him that I began to cry. “Oh, Pete. It was Tripp.” Tears rushed down my cheeks. “He used chloroform. He was going to kill O'Ryan. I got away when he fell in the pool.”

“The pool? Is that where he is now?” His cop voice was back. “You sure?”

“That's where he was when I got out of there,” I said. “Be careful. He's crazy.”

The officer stayed with me in the cruiser. Even turned on the heater, although the summer night was warm. After a while my teeth stopped chattering and the shivering stopped. Staccato voices sounded over the radio. I heard the sirens again, and red, white, and blue lights flashed past, heading away from the mansion.

“What's going on?” I asked. “Did they catch Tripp?”

“Yeah. Detective Mondello's on his way over here now to get you.”

Just then Pete opened the cruiser door and pulled me into his arms. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” I said, realizing that this was the first time we'd spoken those words to each other.

“You're cold.” He took off his jacket, then wrapped it around my shoulders. “Lee, it was the damnedest thing. The man was fully clothed, shoes and all, and was swimming around in circles in that pool. He fought us when we tried to help him out. Didn't want to get out of the water.”

I waited for him to say something about the cats. The hundreds of cats.

Pete shook his head. “Damnedest thing I ever saw. All alone in there, just swimming around in circles. Anyway, when we got him out of the water, and he'd settled down some, he started talking. I told him he was under arrest for kidnapping, read him his rights, but he kept right on talking.”

“What did he tell you?” I asked.

“We were right about him slipping away from that charity thing and sneaking home. He killed Helena, all right, but the surprising thing is, he says he killed Shea Tolliver, too.” He led me to his car, and gently helped me into the passenger seat. “Come on. I'll take you home. River is still at your place, and your aunt is frantic with worry. I'll fill you in later. I have to get back to the station. Hampton will calm down and get himself lawyered up pretty soon, I'm sure.” He hit the siren, and we headed for home.

“Pete, I need to tell you something. I know where the pink diamond is.” I blurted it out. I didn't give him a chance to respond, just kept talking. “It's on the island. Helena buried Nicky there in a metal coffin. The diamond necklace, the real one, is tied around his neck. There's a fake one, too. The one Tripp killed Shea for. He threw it in the pool.”

“How do you know all this? Never mind. Here we are.” We were in front of the Winter Street house. “We'll talk later. I'll come back as soon as I can. Wait for me, okay?” He left the Crown Vic's engine idling, and together we hurried up the steps. Aunt Ibby and River rushed outside to greet me. Pete gave me a fast kiss, ran back to the car, and sped away without his jacket, siren blaring.

Once inside the house, everyone talked at once.

“Maralee, your clothes are wet.” My aunt threw her arms around me. “What happened? Where have you been?”

“When I got here and found the back door wide open, I knew something was wrong,” River said. “I ran upstairs and saw that you weren't there, so I called the cops and banged on your aunt's door until I woke her up. We've been worried sick ever since.”

“It was Tripp Hampton,” I told them, sitting on the living-room couch, where my aunt wrapped a warm knitted afghan around me. “He was waiting outside the door when I unlocked it. He had a rag with chloroform. He took me to his house. He took O'Ryan, too.... Heroine! He was going to drown O'Ryan. I have to look for him!” I started to get up, and my aunt put a calming hand on my arm.

“Shhh. O'Ryan is fine. He came in through the cat door a few minutes before you got here. You say Tripp took you both all the way to his house?”

The cat strolled into the living room, glanced at the three of us without curiosity, and curled up on his favorite needlepoint cushion.

“Yes, he did,” I said. “All the way to his house.”

“O'Ryan must have hitched a ride home, then,” River said, “to have made it here before you did. And you were riding in a police car.”

“Maybe one of the other policemen drove him home and let him out. Yes. That must be exactly what happened,” I said, knowing in my heart that it wasn't.

“How did you get away from Hampton?” River demanded. “And why did he grab you in the first place?”

“My phone was bugged. He heard me tell you that I know where the diamond is. And he's been listening to my conversations with Pete, too. He wanted the diamond. He said he needs money so he won't go to jail for stealing from his investors, and—”

“Slow down, Maralee.” My aunt spoke softly, gently, the way she used to when I was little and got too excited about something. “Take a deep breath and start at the beginning.” She put a cup of hot tea in my still shaking hands. “There now. You're safe here, and O'Ryan is safe, too. Take your time and tell us what happened.”

I did exactly what she told me to do. I took a deep breath and a sip of hot tea and began to feel warmer, better, safer. I looked across the room at the cat, who appeared to be dozing, eyes squeezed shut, ears flattened, and I knew he was wide awake, listening.

I started at the beginning, as Aunt Ibby had instructed. I told them about how Tripp had knocked me out and how he had O'Ryan in a cat carrier and had threatened to throw him in the pool to drown him if I didn't tell him where the diamond was.

River interrupted. “So where
is
it? You still haven't told us.”

“It's on Nicky. Helena's little dog. She buried him on the island. He's wearing the diamond necklace. It was all in a poem she wrote in her notebook after he died. She said he was running to meet his dad—that means her first husband—and she dressed him up in the diamond necklace John Hampton had given to her. That's where it is now. Out on Misery Island, in Nicky's coffin.”

“My goodness. Did you tell Tripp Hampton that?” My aunt clasped her hands together.

“I did. I had to tell him if I didn't want O'Ryan to drown. I kept talking. Stalling for time. I knew you'd call for help, River, when you found me missing. I knew someone would come.”

“But you got away. How?”

“It's a pretty wild story,” I said, “and I don't think I can tell anyone except you two.” I pulled the afghan close and took another sip of tea. “Nobody else will believe it, anyway, but I sure wish I'd had a camera with me.”

So I told them. I told them every crazy, impossible bit of it. How I'd worked my hands loose and freed O'Ryan from his carrier. How I had heard glass crack and had watched while cat after cat had silently padded into that long room, and how they'd crowded around Tripp Hampton until he backed into the pool.

“And the cats kept coming,” I said. “Hundreds of cats. All kinds of cats. I swear, every cat in Salem must have been in that room.”

My aunt and my best friend stared at me. Was it disbelief I saw in their eyes?

I kept talking. “After Tripp fell in the pool, one of the cats, a black one with a red collar, led me through all those confusing halls and corridors, straight to the front door. I ran then, down the path to Daphne's cottage, and called 911.”

“I've seen that cat before.” Aunt Ibby spoke hesitantly. “A black cat with a red collar. I've seen her sitting on our back fence.”

“Yes. I've seen her on that fence, too,” I said. “And on the roof, outside the attic window, too. She was there when O'Ryan and I were up there looking for things to use in the plays.”

“You never told me about that.” Aunt Ibby refilled my teacup.

“She was with another cat that time,” I said, recalling the scene. “A pretty gray one with a star-shaped white blaze on her forehead.”

River sat forward, looking as though she was about to say something, then settled back in her chair, a smile flitting across her face.

“I told you there seems to be a lot of cats around here lately.” My aunt shook her head. “A lot of cats.”

“So, did Pete say anything about them?” River asked. “A roomful of cats isn't something you see every day.”

“Not a word,” I admitted. “They must have all gone away before he got there.”

“Uh-huh,” River said. “Anyway, did you tell him where you think the diamond is?”

“I did.”

“Really? Didn't he want to know how you figured it out?” my aunt asked.

“Yes. But he was in a hurry to get back to the station,” I said. “He said we'd talk later.”

“Looks like now's the time, Maralee.” Aunt Ibby patted my knee. “Now's the time to tell the truth about how you know . . . things.”

I sighed. “You're right. I'm going to tell him.”

“Good,” Aunt Ibby said. “And I'm going to make some more tea. Be right back.” She headed for the kitchen, and River moved onto the couch, beside me, and began to speak in a tone so low, it was almost a whisper.

“Those cats,” she said. “I believe you about the cats. I believe they were there.”

“Thanks, River. That means a lot.”

“I kind of doubted it at first,” she said. “After all, you'd been through a terrible experience—being chloroformed and all. But when you mentioned those
particular
cats, the black one with the red collar and the gray one with the star on her head, I understood.” She nodded confidently. “I understood exactly what was going on.”

“You did? You do?” It was my turn to be puzzled. “What
was
going on? Tell me. Please.”

“Remember what I told you about Bridget Bishop when you gave me the box with her spell book in it? About how she dressed?”

“A red
bustier.
” I smiled. “Not proper dress for a Puritan lady.”

“And do you remember Ariel Constellation's beauty mark, which she was so proud of?”

I nodded. “Sure. A star on her cheek.”

River leaned back against the couch cushions and folded her arms. “Well?”

It was like one of those long, silent moments when you almost expect to hear crickets chirping. Or like the lengthy pause in conversation while Mr. Pennington waits for someone to come up with the correct movie title. I could actually hear the grandfather clock in the front hall ticking.

Then I got it.

“Bridget Bishop with the red collar. Ariel with the star.”

River offered a high five. I tapped her hand. “Right,” she said. “Bridget had control over cats. The court said so in sixteen ninety-two. And O'Ryan was Ariel's familiar. Between the three of them—the black cat, the gray one, and O'Ryan—they called all those cats together to save you.” She looked over at the sleeping cat on the needlepoint cushion. “And to save him.”

“Amazing.”

“Not so amazing when you consider today's date,” she said. “June tenth. Bridget Bishop's birthday.”

 

 

Pete came back to our house, as he'd promised. By then the sun had come up, and it looked as though it was going to be a beautiful summer's day in Salem. River had left for home, and I'd taken a hot shower but, still feeling chilled, had climbed into my trusty old gray sweats. Aunt Ibby bustled around in the kitchen, making breakfast for the three of us.

Pete told us all he could about what had transpired at the police station when they'd arrested Tripp Hampton on the kidnapping charge. “Looks like there'll be more charges later on,” he said. “It's a pretty sure bet that he killed both his stepmother and Shea Tolliver. Then there's the matter of swindling millions from investors.” He shook his head. “What a mess he made of his life. Smart guy like that. Good education. Fine family.”

“And it was all for a piece of jewelry,” my aunt said.

“Apparently,” Pete said. “Lee says the necklace is buried on Misery Island, with Helena's dog. That right, Lee?”

I nodded. “It's all here in her notebook.” I'd brought the notebook downstairs with me, knowing that Pete would want an explanation for how I could be so sure Helena had buried the gem with Nicky. I opened the book to the page with the picture of Helena and her dog wearing twin sailor hats. I read the poem about “picky little Nicky” aloud and explained about the dog wearing the necklace like his mom and running to meet his dad, hoping that would be enough evidence to justify my insistence that the gem would be found with poor Nicky's remains.