Authors: Margarite St. John
The Art of Death (28 page)
Set Up
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Steve hadn’t been gone a half hour when Lexie got a text from Sheila Powers, Dave’s wife. Sheila was the President of Summit Academy, which Lexie had founded several years earlier for students whose ambitious parents were unhappy with the public schools.
I know it’s late, but our meeting with the Summit Founders Club has to be put off until afternoon, so you don’t have to be at the Academy at ten tomorrow morning. I’m still waiting up for Dave. He said it’s going to be awhile. Murder investigations don’t move fast.
Puzzled, Lexie read the last line twice.
He’s at a murder scene? What do you mean? Where?
A few seconds later came the reply:
Not sure. Somewhere downtown near the ballpark.
Had she heard Steve wrong when he said Dave was at Madeleine’s place asking questions about Dan Belden?
Are you certain Dave’s not still at the Appledorn farm?
Frantic, Lexie waited for Sheila’s reply.
He was never at the farm tonight. I just talked to him. He said a man jumped or fell from an apartment balcony at The Harrison.
Lexie replied:
Something’s wrong. Madeleine told Steve that Dave was out at the farm talking to Chester and wanted to talk to him too. That’s the main reason Steve was willing to drive out there so late.
A few seconds later Lexie’s phone buzzed.
“Lexie, this is Dave. What’s this about me being with Madeleine and Chester at the farm?”
“That’s what Madeleine told Steve. She said you were talking to Chester about Dan Belden. The only reason Steve was willing to drive out there so late was that you were there and wanted to talk to him too.”
“So Madeleine has returned from Indianapolis?”
“I don’t have any idea where she’s been, but she told Steve she was at the farm with her father and you.”
“Nobody’s talking to Chester, I can guarantee you that. He’s dead.”
Lexie almost dropped the phone. “What? Say that again.”
“He’s dead.”
“Murdered?”
“Maybe.”
“Just now?”
“No. Probably about three or four years ago.”
“How can that be? Mad Madeleine talks about her father all the time. She changed the plans for the barn to build a special suite for him.”
“We did some DNA tests on that headless skeleton found in the Appledorns’ old burn pit. We just got the results today. The skeleton belongs to Chester or his identical twin. And the partially burned bones a few layers further down belong to Dan Belden. Some pretty ugly stuff seems to have been going on out there.”
“So Madeleine lied just to get Steve out there.” In frustration, Lexie pushed her hair off her forehead. “That horrible woman’s attempts to get Steve back never end.”
“Lexie, listen to me,” Dave said, obviously under stress. “I’ve got to turn this scene over to my deputy and hightail it to the Appledorn farm. Call Steve and warn him that he’s being set up some way. The Indianapolis police are looking at her as a suspect in the death of Dr. Beltrami. And now that I know Madeleine’s in town, I’m wondering if she had something to do with this poor man’s death too.”
“What poor man?”
“From what one of the residents tells me, the dead guy is Beltrami’s cousin from Italy. He’s staying here to get Beltrami’s affairs settled. Hold on.” Lexie heard the muffled sounds of men talking excitedly. “Lexie, me again. If Steve’s not already at the farm, call him, tell him to turn around and go home. And that’s an order.”
“I’m going to go out there myself.”
“Don’t even think about that,” Dave barked. “Much too dangerous. You stay put.”
Dead Ringer
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Steve jumped when his phone rang but he was too rattled even to glance at the screen. A strange man had just entered the parlor. Wearing a navy blazer and white duck trousers, he walked with a rolling gait, his prominent gut preceding him. He had white hair and cheek whiskers. Except for the man’s deeply furrowed forehead, his sunburned face was stiff as if he’d had industrial-mode plastic surgery. The eyes, even the irises, looked cloudy, all the same gray. It was no one he recognized. The man said nothing but simply stood there.
“Who are you?”
The man saluted with three fingers to the forehead. “Captain Ahab.” The voice was strange, not quite a woman’s, not quite a man’s. He spoke in a monotone.
“The man who’s been following Madeleine?”
“The very same.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Checking in on Madeleine and Chester.”
“Where is she?”
“In her office, getting your check. Greedy bastard! All you think about is money. I told her not to pay you.”
“Have you seen Dave?”
“He’s fine.”
“What do you mean, he’s fine?”
“He’ll be out here in a second.”
“Where’s Chester? That’s a dummy on the floor. A dead ringer for the old man.”
No answer.
“Where are you hiding him?”
“I’m not hiding him.”
“Prove it.”
“He’s upstairs. Waiting for you.”
“Like hell he is. What a prankster, you are, Chester. That’s you behind the mask and wig, isn’t it?” He reached for the man’s face, thinking he could tear the mask off. But Captain Ahab twisted away, growling like an animal. When Steve made another attempt at the mask, he was kicked in the legs and then his face was scratched. He caught one of Captain Ahab’s hands.
And then it dawned on him. The hand was too delicate to be Chester’s. Men didn’t scratch each other’s faces in a fight. Once again he tore at the mask and, despite the screams, finally ripped it off.
He pushed the figure away and stared in disbelief. “Madeleine!”
Her laugh was hollow and crazy. “What a fool you are. You’re so stupid. I don’t know even know why I want you back.”
“Why does your hand smell like gasoline?”
“It doesn’t.”
“Where’s Chester?”
“Upstairs. Are you going to marry me or not?”
“You’re insane. I’m calling the cops.”
“No, you’re not. Give me that phone.”
Steve bolted for the porch and slammed the door behind him. He heard her yelling, “If I can’t have you, nobody can,” as she pushed the door back open and ran after him.
Just as he reached the steps to the lawn, with no warning, he suddenly felt the pain of 50,000 volts slam his body like a sledgehammer.
Panic
Thursday, July 11, 2013
At first Lexie was irritated that Steve was not answering his cellphone. She wanted to warn him that he was being setup. Dave ordered him to turn around because whatever was going on at the farm was sinister. Chester was dead, maybe even murdered. Madeleine was dangerous. She lied. She tried to break up Lexie’s marriage. And she might have had something to do with the death of both Dr. Beltrami and his poor cousin from Italy.
Madeleine might have lied about the check. And once she found out that Steve was quitting the construction job and never returning, what might she do? How far might she go for revenge?
Lexie panicked. Once more she reached Dave and told him Steve was not answering his phone. She woke Sadie, the nanny, and told her to sleep in the house to be near Lacey.
Then, though she hated driving at night, she sped toward the Appledorn farm.
Reunion
Thursday, July 11, 2013
As Steve struggled to his feet, he was shocked again. And then again. He knew from the pain flooding every cell of his body that he hadn’t been hit with a stun gun but a taser. He was in so much pain and so exhausted he couldn’t get to his feet a third time. He lay there, writhing, his muscles refusing to respond to commands, his breathing labored.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Traitor! Liar! Thief! You’ll burn in hell.”
Then he heard the screen door slam. He lay there, alone, burning up despite the evening chill. He willed his body to move. It didn’t respond.
Shotgun
Thursday, July 11, 2013
As Dave pulled into the driveway from State Line Road, he scanned the property for signs of life. Steve’s pickup was parked near the construction trailer, but there were no lights there or in the barn. The mausoleum and garage were dark, as expected. But the house was also dark, which was strange.
“Where the hell are Steve and Madeleine?” Dave muttered under his breath.
He rounded the back of the house to the side where Chester’s bedroom was. There he saw a faint light behind the open casement window. A few seconds later a figure -- a dark bulky shape with a big shock of hair -- suddenly stepped into view, followed by a shotgun blast that hit an oak tree and peppered him with bark and leaves.
What the hell? Who’s in the window shooting at me?
Crouching and backing up for a better vantage point, he focused on the window where he’d seen a light. The figure was gone.
And then the bulky figure returned. Who the hell was it? Because of the back lighting, he could see the figure’s shape but no identifying details.
One more shotgun blast and the man disappeared.
And then, to Dave’s horror, the entire window exploded, glass shards flying like missiles. A fireball shot out, followed by flames licking up to the eaves and the attic windows. A huge coil of black smoke snaked into the night, smothering and choking everything in its path.
He was momentarily stunned. What madness had he stumbled into? Where were Madeleine and Steve? Were they in danger from the madman in the window?
He immediately contacted his colleagues, telling them to send backup plus the fire department and an ambulance. He stayed on the ground a few more seconds to see if the figure would reappear in the window. Not surprisingly, it didn’t. The fire from the second floor was engulfing the house like a dragon incinerating a castle.
Dave raced around the house to the porch. At the top of the steps, he stumbled over a body. He knelt to see who it was.
“Steve! What’s wrong? What are you doing down here? Get up. It’s an inferno. Get out to the lawn before the fire spreads.”
“Can’t.”
“What? Speak up.”
“I’ve been tasered. Four times.”
Dave checked Steve’s pulse, then grabbed his shoulders, pulled him to the porch steps, and bumped him down to the lawn. “Where’s Madeleine?” he asked.
“In the house.”
“There’s a madman shooting from Chester’s window. Who is he?”
“Not a man. It’s Madeleine, dressed like Captain Ahab.”
“Like what?”
“Captain Ahab. Wig and clothes. I tore the mask off. She’s got crazy contacts in, looks like a zombie.”
“Captain -- ? So that’s what I saw in the window. What’s she doing? Why is she dressed like that?”
“Don’t ask. She’s nuts. She’s got a taser, by the way.”
“Not to mention a shotgun,” Dave said.
“You might want to know that Chester’s here.”
Dave leaned down. “Say that again?”
“Chester’s here.”
“You’re playing with me, brother. He’s dead. That was his skeleton on the burn pit.”
Despite his pain, Steve involuntarily chuckled. “That explains a few things. But I’m not playing with you. He’s in the front parlor, first door on the right. No need to rescue him, though.”