We talked a little while longer. She was interested in how I had learned as much as I had and I told her a lot of it, but kept a number of things to myself, as I was sure she had also. Finally I asked her the question I most wanted the answer to.
“What did Ken Buckley do with William Jamieson’s body?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. He said he disposed of it and that he didn’t want to say any more about it. I know, because I found out, that there’s a body bag kept at the firehouse, just in case it’s ever needed. So it’s possible he used that. But I have no idea what he did with the body. And there are things I’d rather not know, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded. We had been talking for quite a while and it had been a long day. I felt that I trusted her, but not completely. She had good answers to my questions, but she’d had time to prepare for them. “Are you going to turn yourself in?” I asked finally.
“I haven’t decided. I have to think about my career. I am totally innocent with respect to these homicides, but I have information that the police may need. I’m fairly sure I was the last person to see Tina alive, except for the person who killed her. I can’t withhold that information very long. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me if you have any viable suspects.”
“They come and go in my head, Dodie. It could be the father of the girl who was almost raped. Ken helped him out of the tightest spot he’d ever been in and he must be very grateful for that, but if Ken told him he was looking for the family of William Jamieson, the father may have feared his daughter’s role in Jamieson’s death would be exposed.”
“That might happen inadvertently. Good point.”
“And I think about the groupers in Tina’s house, but they don’t have any motive that I can think of. If we can figure out who William Jamieson really was, maybe we could go on from there. This is the first I’ve heard that there was a homicide in that house fifteen years ago, and also the first I’ve heard that Tina’s supposed Uncle Bill was living under an assumed name.”
“And this is the first that I knew there was a connection between Tina and William Jamieson,” Dodie said, as though to thank me in return for the information I had given her. “So we’ve both learned something tonight, and unless you have a better idea, I think the next step has to be to talk to Tina’s mother.”
“I agree. She ought to remember Jamieson and maybe she knows the truth about him.”
Dodie reached into the still-open pocketbook. “I have her address.” She pulled out a notepad covered in burgundy leather and turned a couple of small pages. Then she wrote on a clean page, tore it out, and handed it to me. “I gather the mother has had a few husbands. That’s her current name.”
She had written “Sally Holland” and an address in New Jersey. “Have you called her?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t see any reason to. Tina hadn’t told me about looking for Jamieson. She was a little mysterious about what she was going to see Ken Buckley about. I thought, maybe—”
“I understand.”
“Are you up to this? Talking to the Holland woman?”
I had been trying to calculate whether to take Eddie with me or go by myself. But either way, someone had to talk to Tina’s mother. “I’ll go.”
“How soon?”
“I’ll try tomorrow. I teach on Tuesday and I can’t miss the first class of the semester.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow night then.” She closed her bag.
“Tell me one thing,” I said. “Why did you come to me? Why did you tell me all this?”
“I trusted you. You didn’t appear to have an ulterior motive. I was sure you hadn’t killed anyone, and you seemed to have uncovered some interesting tidbits. When I talked to Tina that last night, it was clear she had lied to the police and you had told the truth. And maybe—I don’t know—maybe I just didn’t know where else to turn.”
“I’ll do my best. I know how important this is to you.”
She stood and put her scarf back on, covering her beautiful hair except for a little on her forehead. Then she put the tinted glasses back on although it was already dark out.
“When did you hear about Tina’s murder?” I asked.
“When I was nearly home.” She stopped, as if trying to recall. “I took the first ferry to Bay Shore that morning. I hadn’t eaten anything so I stopped somewhere—I can’t even remember where—and had a big breakfast. I made some notes, the names of lawyers I know who might be able to handle this better than 1.1 was there for quite a while. Before I got on the highway, I stopped again at a farmers’ market and bought some fresh fruits and vegetables.”
“So it took you a long time to get home.”
“Much longer than usual. I had the radio on in the car and before I got to my apartment, they mentioned it. All I could think of was that everyone in that house knew I’d been to see Tina the night before, and the last I’d seen her she was off on her bicycle. I had no idea where she’d been killed or how. But someone was bound to make a connection between us. I decided not to go home.”
I opened the door of the office and looked out. From time to time during our talk I had heard sounds, mostly laughter, from another room. It was Sunday night and I assumed the residents were watching a movie in the game room. No one was around. I walked Dodie to the front door and we shook hands. The last I saw of her, her silk scarf was blowing in the breeze.
“The picture is certainly filling in,” Jack said. We had come home in two separate cars, chatted with Elsie for a while, and now we were sipping coffee in the family room with Eddie safely upstairs in his crib.
“And Ken Buckley turns out to be a man of conscience. I think his wife must have known all about this, don’t you?”
“It’s likely. If he told her he was talking to Murchison about diverting some funds to Jamieson’s heirs, she probably knows what happened that night.”
“And the Hersheys have to know. They’re the ones who called Ken in the first place.”
“It was to everyone’s advantage to keep the secret. There’s no statute of limitations on murder, and there’s been no investigation to determine whether the death of Jamieson was murder or self-defense or any one of a whole lot of other possible charges. Everyone involved is potentially liable as co-conspirators, actual suspects, or material witnesses.”
“Poor Mrs. Norris. She was so sure she hadn’t left anything on that stove. But she had to accept what the fire department’s investigation turned up.”
“Phony investigation,” Jack corrected me. “They started with the result, not with the search, and worked back from there.”
I looked at my watch. “I guess I’d better get this over with. I have to call and see if Tina’s mother is home and if-1 can come over tomorrow.”
“Good luck.”
I dialed, half hoping she wouldn’t answer. Talking to the mother of a murdered child filled me with dread. But she answered the phone and I told her my name and plunged into my mission.
“I knew your daughter, Mrs. Holland,” I said. “She was staying at a house across the street from ours on Fire Island. I just came home today.”
“You were there?” She sounded surprised. “You were there when she—when Tina died?”
“Yes, I was. I wonder if I could drive out and talk to you tomorrow. Will you be home?”
“I can be home, sure. When do you want to come?”
“It’ll take me a couple of hours. About eleven?”
“I’ll be there.”
I let my breath out as I got off the phone. I had forgotten to ask whether Tina had been buried yet, but surely the funeral couldn’t be tomorrow or she wouldn’t have made the appointment.
“All set?” Jack asked.
“Yes. I’ll just call Elsie and let her know it’ll be a long day.”