TEN

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

I heard footsteps in the foyer as Zack greeted the detectives and invited them into the solarium. Intent on eavesdropping, I jumped, startled, when Zack appeared at the kitchen doorway.

“I told them you were helping me today, Bailey, and they want you to hear what they have to say.”

Bad news? Good news? I didn’t try to guess. But I could think of nothing good about a suspicious death. It surprised me that they wanted to share information with me. I left my cornflakes and juice and followed Zack to the solarium. After we exchanged greetings and sat rather uneasily in Francine’s easy chairs, Cassidy dove straight to the point of their visit.

“We have the medical examiner’s report. He estimates the victim died between three and four yesterday afternoon, and we’re investigating Mrs. Shipton’s death as a homicide. We’re informing you first and withholding that news from the public—at least for the time being. I wish we could spare you the headlines sure to come, but we’ve no control over the media.”

Someone pushed Francine down those stairs. The thought etched itself into my brain.

“Someone shoved Mother to her death.” Zack’s voice shook when he verbalized my thoughts.

“Yes,” Cassidy said. “We believe that’s what happened. But we’re only releasing the information that she died from injuries sustained in a fall.”

“Why?” Zack asked. “Why delay the truth? There’s bound to be speculation and gossip.”

“We want to get a feel for public reaction to the news. We have certain people under surveillance. Whoever caused your mother’s fall must be guilt-ridden and insecure right now—perhaps in a ready-to-cut-and-run mode. Out of nervousness and fear, the culprit may do something to incriminate himself—or herself.”

“A woman?” I blurted.

“Quite possible. Murder’s an equal-opportunity employer, and it takes little muscle to push an elderly lady down some stairs.”

“And after that?” Zack asked. “After you’ve issued your bit of misleading information, then what?”

“Mr. Shipton, we’re here now to release the whole truth of your mother’s death to you and Miss Green. To you two, only.”

I imagined an anchor line tightening around my stomach. Detective Burgundy watched both Zack and me, but Cassidy looked straight at Zack who met his gaze without flinching.

“Your mother’s fall broke her neck. She died immediately. Following that fatal fall, the perpetrator coiled a dead blacksnake around her neck and wedged the snake’s head into her mouth and throat. That was the way the murderer wanted someone to discover her body. But she died of a broken neck, not of suffocation, as the killer may have wanted the police to believe.”

Zack jumped up and color drained from his face. Clearly, he was hearing these horrid details for the first time. My stomach rose into my throat, and I looked toward the door hoping for escape.

“If you’re feeling ill, Miss Green, you may be excused.” Detective Cassidy glared at me and leaned forward as if to rise. Something about his demeanor, his arrogance in thinking I’d crumple at his news, made me swallow my gorge and remain seated. He sank back into his chair and nodded to his partner.

Burgundy reached into his attaché case and withdrew photos that he fanned across the coffee table. I closed my eyes, but not in time to avoid seeing Francine and the snake.

I heard Zack stride forward, brush the photos to the floor. After I forced my eyes open, he stomped the pictures, kicking them toward Cassidy. Then he picked up two of the photos, tore them in half, and flung them at Burgundy’s feet. Blood had rushed to his face, and I thought he might be having a heart attack, or a stroke. He stood with his arms at his sides, both fists doubled, his eyes flashing fire.

“Why wasn’t I told these details sooner?” Zack demanded. “Why am I the last to know? I’ll…I’ll…Winton found her body. My so-called friend, Winton Gravely. He knew of this horror last night while you were questioning us. Gravely knew even before that—when he found Mother’s body. Why didn’t he tell me!”

“Please calm yourself, Mr. Shipton,” Cassidy said. “We can explain our actions and Gravely’s. Once you hear our reasoning, I think you’ll agree we did the right thing. Please remember, our job is to find the murderer, not to comfort the survivors.”

“I’ll have your head for my breakfast!” Zack shouted. “I’ll…I’ll…”

“Please hear us out, Mr. Shipton.” Detective Burgundy rose and stood beside Zack. “Handling the information in the way we did may help us as we investigate this case. Before last night’s questioning, we ordered Gravely to say nothing about the snake. We wanted to note everyone’s reactions to our questions as well as to the answers given by those present. Many times we count on initial reactions to reveal important clues.”

“How could such secrecy have helped? I’m calling my lawyer.” Zack turned and started to leave.

“You’re welcome to call anyone you care to,” Cassidy said. “But do hear us out first. Please listen to our comments. Then, if you have questions we’ll do our best to answer them.”

Zack sat again. “All right.” He glared at each detective in turn. “Why was Winton allowed to know information that you denied to me? And why is Bailey being put through this unpleasantness? You know she was en route to Key West when the murder took place.”

“Would you rather have broken this news to Miss Green yourself?” Cassidy demanded.

Zack shook his head and stared at the floor. “Of course not. Nobody likes breaking this kind of news to anyone. But that doesn’t excuse you from allowing Winton Gravely—”

“We swore Gravely to secrecy until we announced the details of your mother’s death to the media. He remains under oath to keep silent. Now we’re demanding the same thing of you and Miss Green. Secrecy. Police frequently withhold facts from the public. Often it’s that one withheld detail that causes the perpetrator to stumble, to reveal his guilt. We feel it possible that someone in this room last night knows exactly what happened to your mother.”

“Who?” Zack demanded. “Tell me right now. Which person, which of my friends and neighbors do you suspect? Who?”

“We’re revealing no more details yet and we want both you and Miss Green to keep the information we’ve revealed to you this morning a secret.”

“There’ll be a thorough investigation?”

“Of course. We’ve been working to unravel this mystery since yesterday when we received Winton Gravely’s nine-one-one call around six-thirty—about half an hour before you arrived home.”

“And you think someone who was in this room last night is guilty? I can’t believe that one of our neighbors—”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, Mr. Shipton. We said that’s a possibility. A total stranger may have murdered your mother. Police deal with such homicides frequently, but according to statistics, murders are most often committed either by some member of the victim’s family or by a close associate.”

“What about the yardman?” Zack demanded. “We know nothing about him except that he showed up one day asking for work.”

I wanted to scream at Zack, to tell him to hush up about the yardman. But I corked my thoughts and forced myself to listen.

“Tell us about the yardman. He was a stranger to your mother?”

“That’s right. She’d known him only a few weeks—a month at the most. Mitch, Mitch…what’s his last name?”

Burgundy pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket and supplied the name. “Mitch Mitchell. Might be a phony name. Or maybe the Mitch part may be a nickname.”

“According to Mother, Mitchell worked hard and had no trouble following her instructions concerning her lawn, her trees and plants. The neighbors joked about Mother’s nitpicking when it came to attention to her yard. When she hired someone she approved of, they’d vie to hire that person, too. I’ve watched a succession of yardmen come and go.”

“You never did the hiring and firing?”

“No.” Zack banged his fist against his chair arm. “Mother did her own hiring and firing. Mitchell admitted being inside this very room. He admitted to finding a blacksnake here. He admitted liking snakes to the point that he’d go out of his way to protect one. I want to talk to Mitch Mitchell up close and personal.”

Warning signals flashed in my head. I had to warn Mitch. “Of course the yardman will get close scrutiny. Mitch Mitchell. His name’s on our list of suspects.”

“Have you dusted the house for fingerprints?” Zack asked. “Yes. We did that before you arrived home from work yesterday, but we’re releasing no information on the results just yet.”

Detective Burgundy tucked what remained of the torn photos back into his attaché case. “We thank both of you for your cooperation.”

“We expect you to remain silent about the details of this investigation,” Cassidy reminded us—again. “We’ll inform you before we release the whole story to the media.”

“Thanks,” Zack said. “I’ll appreciate that. I’ll expect that.”

We watched the detectives get into their car and leave before we returned to our breakfast. Although I didn’t feel like eating, Zack began making fresh toast.

“Now what?” I don’t know what I expected Zack to say. I’d agreed to stay and greet callers. I regretted that promise. I needed to get in touch with Mitch, to put him on guard against whatever the police might have in store for him.

“I’d like to lock the doors and disappear,” Zack admitted. “I’m sorry you’ve been sucked into this horror.”

“I appreciate your feelings, Zack. But I’m glad you don’t have to face this scene alone.”

“Did you notice anything strange about the conclusions the detectives were reaching?”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t believe they said anything about reaching conclusions. I feel as if the investigation stands wide open and they’re waiting to find the perpetrator or to have him reveal himself.”

“That’s the feeling they left me with, too. They may give the impression they suspect Mitchell, but I didn’t hear them letting me off the hook. No way. Anyone else’s motive for murdering Mother might hinge on protecting the neighborhood from an influx of homeless people. I’m the only one with a dual motive.”

“Protecting the neighborhood and claiming your inheritance.”

“Right. There’s no way I’ve been dropped from their suspect list. I’m in the number-one spot.”

I hated to admit that Zack was right, and I felt more wary of him than before, although I could think of no reason why he’d want to harm me. I brushed my feelings to a far corner of my mind, and for a moment I forgot about them when I glanced out the window and saw Courtney crossing her lawn and heading directly toward Eden Palms.