Valentine Murder (12 page)
Authors: Leslie Meier
“I'll be right there,” she said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Snow White took a bite of the poisoned apple and fell to the ground.
G
etting right there seemed to take forever. Lucy had to pry Zoe away from her Barbies and hustle her into her outdoor clothes. Then she had to throw on her own parka and boots, and scrape the ice-covered windshield of the car. All the time she was busy with these frustrating details, she was distracted, worrying about Miss Tilley. What if the thief was still in the library? And why had she called herâwhy hadn't she called the police?
etting right there seemed to take forever. Lucy had to pry Zoe away from her Barbies and hustle her into her outdoor clothes. Then she had to throw on her own parka and boots, and scrape the ice-covered windshield of the car. All the time she was busy with these frustrating details, she was distracted, worrying about Miss Tilley. What if the thief was still in the library? And why had she called herâwhy hadn't she called the police?
When Lucy finally pulled up in front of the library, she automatically began to unstrap Zoe from her booster seat. Then she stopped and refastened the seatbelt. There was no way she was going to take her little girl into a potentially dangerous situation.
“I'm just going to run in for a minute,” she told Zoe. “Don't you dare move, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.” Zoe's eyes were big and round; like a little fawn, she was alert to her mother's unease.
“I'll be right back,” promised Lucy, closing the car door and locking it.
She dashed up the library steps, observing the fact that the big oak door showed no sign of a break-in. But when she entered the vestibule, she couldn't help gasping when she saw the smashed glass case. The recessed alcove that had contained Josiah's Tankard was now empty, filled only with a few shards of broken glass.
Proceeding on into the library proper, Lucy found Miss Tilley sitting glumly at the circulation desk.
“Have you called the police?” asked Lucy.
“Of course,” snapped Miss Tilley. “What do you take me for? An idiot?”
“Why aren't they here?”
“I don't know. They said there was some sort of emergency and they'd get here as soon as they could. You got here pretty quicklyâI hope someone is keeping an eye on that sweet little girl of yours.”
“Actually, I left her in the car,” said Lucy.
“You did? What were you thinking? Go and get her immediately!”
“I thought you might be in some sort of danger,” said Lucy, defending her actions. “I thought she'd be safer in the car.”
“Well, there's no danger here. I wouldn't have called you except for the fact that they're taking so long to get here. I was getting bored.”
“I see that,” said Lucy, biting her tongue. “I'll go and get Zoe now.”
As she hurried back to the car, Lucy figured it must have taken her at least twenty minutes to reach the library. That was a long time to wait for help, considering that the police station was just around the corner. What could have happened, that they couldn't have responded more quickly?
Taking Zoe by the hand, Lucy hurried back up the steps. In the vestibule, the little girl planted her feet, stopping suddenly.
“It's broken,” she said, pointing at the glass case with her pink mittened hand.
“I know. A bad person broke it and took what was inside.”
“A bad boy?”
“Maybe,” said Lucy, unable to resist smiling. “We don't know who did it.”
Lucy pushed open the interior doors.
“That's my girl,” cooed Miss Tilley. “If you pick out a book, I'll read it to you.”
“Go ahead,” said Lucy, giving her an encouraging shove in the direction of the children's section. “I wonder what's holding up the police?” she said, turning toward Miss Tilley.
“That's what I'd like to know,” fumed Miss Tilley.
Lucy had expected her old friend to be distraught and upset, perhaps even ill with shock, but Miss Tilley seemed to be just plain mad. Her jaw was set and her teeth were clenched, and she was drumming impatiently on the desk with her knobby, blue-veined hand.
“When did you discover the theft?” asked Lucy, unzipping her parka.
“When I got here this morningâit must have been about eleven-thirty. We finally got permission from the police to reopenâit certainly took them long enough to look for that gun or whatever they were doing in here. I called Gerald this morning and he told me.” The old woman cackled. “I don't think he was planning on calling me. He made a great point of telling me that I didn't need to concern myself about the library and he had found a temporary librarian. Well, I wanted to make sure the police had left things in good order. I had planned to do some errands with Rachel anyway, so I had her drop me off here and she went on to the IGA.
“Of course, I noticed the theft as soon as I opened the door. I tried to call her back but she had already gone. So I called the police. And you.”
Lucy reached out and patted her hand. “I'm glad you called me. I know this must be very upsetting for you.”
“Of course it is.” Miss Tilley's expression seemed to imply that Lucy was mentally deficient. “I feel a great responsibility for the safety of the tankard. It represents the history of our town.”
Lucy decided to keep her suspicion that the tankard was not genuine to herself for the time being. “It seems an odd thing to steal,” observed Lucy. “Is it worth a lot?”
“Similar tankards have gone for twenty-five thousand or more at auction,” said Miss Tilley. “But I don't imagine it's the sort of thing you can get quick cash for like a TV or a computer or something like that.”
“That's true,” agreed Lucy, a little surprised at her old friend's understanding of criminal behavior. “Can I make you some tea or something?”
“Might as well. It doesn't seem as if the police are in any hurry.” Miss Tilley was beaming at Zoe, who was climbing up onto a chair beside her. “You picked one of my favorites, you clever girl . . . âBlueberries for Sal'.”
Lucy went off to Bitsy's office to heat up some water and when she returned with two steaming mugs she found that Lieutenant Horowitz had arrived. Much to her surprise he had only one officer in tow, and was unaccompanied by the usual crowd of crime scene technicians. He was carrying a small bundle and placed it in front of Miss Tilley.
“I think we've solved your robbery,” he said. “Would you take a look at this and identify it if you can?”
Miss Tilley unwrapped the brown paper bag with trembling hands and drew out a tankard encased in a plastic bag. “This is Josiah's Tankard,” she said, emitting a shaky sigh of relief. “This is wonderful. I can't tell you how pleased I am.”
Lucy gave her a big smile and a hug. “Do you mind if I look at it? I've never seen it up close.”
Receiving a nod of permission from Miss Tilley, Lucy picked up the tankard and placed it under the desk lamp. Examining it through the clear plastic, Lucy could see the primitive design of the tree and bird, and the crude date and letters. The tankard appeared to be authentic, but when Lucy examined the bottom she found it was smooth, just like the tankard she had bought. It also seemed lighter than she would have expected, given the shape and size of the piece. “It's lovely,” she said, handing it back to Miss Tilley.
“Well, that's that,” said Horowitz. “Crime solved.”
Just then the double doors burst open and Rachel rushed in, breathless from running up the stairs.
“What's going on?” she demanded, panting to catch her breath. “I saw the police car outside . . . and the broken glass . . .”
“Everything's under control,” Lieutenant Horowitz informed her.
“The tankard was stolen,” added Lucy.
“But it's been recovered,” concluded Miss Tilley, giving the tankard a proprietary little pat.
“Well then, if the lieutenant has no objections, I think I ought to get you home,” Rachel told Miss Tilley. “You've had quite a morning.”
“No objections,” said Horowitz, as Rachel helped Miss Tilley to her feet. “We have to keep the tankard for evidence for the time being, but I give you my personal promise that it will be returned to the library as soon as possible.”
“I understand,” agreed Miss Tilley, slipping her arms into the sleeves of the coat Rachel was holding for her. “Besides, it wouldn't be safe here until we have repaired the case.”
She then took the younger woman's arm and made her shaky way to the door. The morning had definitely taken a toll on her, thought Lucy.
But when she removed her coat and Zoe's from the coat rack, preparing to leave, Horowitz stopped her.
“I'd like a word with you, Mrs. Stone,” he said, causing Miss Tilley and Rachel to glance at her curiously.
“I'm afraid you can't stay here,” said Miss Tilley. “I have to lock up.”
“You can just give the key to me,” said Horowitz.
“I'm afraid that won't do,” said Miss Tilley, standing her ground. “I am responsible for locking the library.”
“All right,” said Horowitz, taking Lucy's elbow and steering her through the doorway. He stopped on the steps and they waited while Miss Tilley locked the door with trembling hands. He gave the officer a nod, and the young trooper gave Miss Tilley his arm. Slowly, the trio descended the steps toward Rachel's car.
A gust of wind hit them and Zoe huddled close to her mother, wrapping her arms around Lucy's hips. Lucy shivered and turned up her collar, waiting for Horowitz to speak. She sensed from the way he was tapping his foot on the stone step while he waited for Miss Tilley to get out of earshot that he was angry with her but she didn't understand why.
“I warned you not to mess around in this investigation,” he began, glaring at her.
“I haven't been,” said Lucy, her eyes opening wide with surprise. “Really.”
He waved the plastic-wrapped tankard at her. “So why were you asking Hayden Northcross about this?”
“I was only asking his advice. I wanted to buy a tankard as a gift for Miss Tilley.”
“And was he helpful?”
“Not really. He gave me the wrong information.” Lucy paused. That's not the real Josiah's Tankard.”
“What?” Horowitz looked at her skeptically.
“It's a fake.”
“Hayden told you that?”
“No, but he was wrong.” said Lucy, struggling to keep her teeth from chattering in the cold. “It doesn't have any finishing marks on the bottom.”
“That means it's a fake?”
“According to the curator of pewter at the Museum of Fine Arts.”
“This is very interesting,” said Horowitz. His breath made a cloud in front of his face.
“I think this might have something to do with Bitsy's murder,” suggested Lucy, wrapping her arms around Zoe.
“Oh, yes. Yes, it does.” Horowitz was rapidly tapping his foot.
“Well, I don't know anything about that,” said Lucy, defending herself. “I was only trying to find out if a little tankard I bought in a junk shop was worth anything.”
“And was it?”
“No.” Lucy shook her head and picked up Zoe, hugging her tightly. “Just about what I paid for it.”
“Not like this one. It may be a fake, but it cost two people's lives.”
“Two lives?” Lucy's face was white. “Bitsy and who?”
“Hayden Northcross. He shot himself this morning.”
“Oh, no!”
“It looks like he murdered Bitsy. The suicide gun is the same caliber as the murder weapon but we still have to test it to be sure.”
“Oh, my God. Hayden. I can't believe it,” said Lucy. Zoe was suddenly very heavy in her arms and she let her slide back down to the ground.
“I'm guessing he switched the tankards a while ago. Something like that isn't easy to fence, but as an antiques dealer he was in the perfect position to sell it.”
“He told me he was asked to examine it a few months ago.” Lucy's voice was flat and expressionless. She didn't want to believe her earlier suspicions about Hayden were true.
“He may have taken it then. Or earlier. It doesn't matter. I think Bitsy discovered the switch, and that's why he killed her. Then you come along, asking questions about tankards and he panics and offs himself.”
“Are you saying he killed himself because of me?” Lucy was astonished.
“I am.” Horowitz nodded his head sharply and glared at her. “If you hadn't gone around asking questions you had no business asking, he'd be alive today and I'd have Bitsy's murderer instead of a whole lot of guesses and suppositions and a case that will never be closed.”
“I had no idea . . .”
“That's right. You have no idea. You just go poking around, sticking your nose in places you have no business. Well, I'm warning you. The next time you start messing around in one of my investigations I won't hesitate to slap you with charges of obstruction. So from now on you better just mind your own business, okay? And as for your suspicions about that tankard you'd better keep them to yourself. Understand?”
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