“WHAT DO YOU want for dinner?” I asked, deciding to turn the conversation in a more pleasant direction.
JT thought about the question. “I could go for a good lasagna.”
“Mmm.” I liked his answer. “Minerva’s?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He paused the truck at a stop sign. “But I’ll need to stop off at home first. Finnegan will need a chance to get outside.”
“Not a problem.”
“What’s this letter about, anyway?” JT asked as he eased the truck into motion again.
“It’s addressed to Mr. Hollingsworth, the guy who was making out with Jordan’s mother.”
“The chair of the symphony’s executive committee?”
“Exactly.”
“So?”
“So, it’s not whom it’s addressed to that’s interesting. What is interesting is the fact that the letter says Mr. Major will withdraw his funding if Dr. Beaufort doesn’t resign as vice chair of the executive committee. Apparently, Major was privy to some disturbing information about Beaufort. The annoying thing is he doesn’t get any more specific than that.” I frowned, itching to know the doctor’s secret. It really was annoying that Mr. Major hadn’t left more clues in his letter.
“Okay,” JT said. “So that’s interesting. Sort of. But I’m assuming you meant the letter could be Dr. Beaufort’s motive for murder. Was he even aware that Major knew . . . whatever it was he knew?”
“Definitely.” I told him about the brief exchange I’d overheard at the symphony’s reception. “And I think Beaufort either knew or suspected that Mr. Major had written a letter but hadn’t yet sent it to Mr. Hollingsworth. I’m sure that’s why Beaufort broke into Major’s study.”
“What? When did that happen?” He cast a sharp glance my way. “And how do you know about it?”
“I caught him in the act.”
Before JT could become too alarmed, I gave him a quick, condensed version of the events that had transpired at Major’s house the other night prior to Kevin’s arrival.
JT pulled into a parking spot around the corner from the police station. “I don’t know how you manage it,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Manage what?” I asked.
“To find trouble whichever way you turn.”
“It’s not like I go looking for trouble. It just . . . happens.”
He shut off the engine. “Are you sure about that?”
I thought about my tendency to let my curiosity guide me and decided I didn’t want to answer the question. “This shouldn’t take too long,” I said instead as I unbuckled my seat belt.
Rather than sitting back to wait as I’d expected, JT undid his own seat belt and reached for the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Coming with you.”
I may have let out a quiet sigh as I climbed out of the truck. As much as I loved JT—as a friend and otherwise—and as much as I appreciated the fact that he cared about my safety, it was getting a bit annoying to have him thinking he needed to accompany me everywhere. But I bit my tongue and didn’t complain, instead dashing through the rain to the front door of the station.
We only had to wait a minute or two before Salnikova appeared in the reception area to lead us back to a small room with a table and chairs. She offered us coffee, but we declined. I figured that was the safest way to go, in case real police station coffee was anything like it was described in books and on television.
We all settled into chairs and Salnikova folded her hands on the tabletop. “What was it you wanted to show me?”
I unzipped my purse and fished out the letter Jordan had found. As I slid it across the table to Salnikova, I said, “This might be what Dr. Beaufort was searching for when he broke into Mr. Major’s house.”
Detective Salnikova’s eyes scanned over the handwritten letter. “Where did you get this?” she asked once she was done reading.
“From Jordan. He found it among his grandfather’s belongings.”
I thought I detected a hint of suspicion in the detective’s eyes, but, to my relief, she didn’t ask if I’d put my student up to searching for clues.
“Oh, and Dr. Beaufort approached me before my concert last night. He wanted me to tell you I was mistaken about seeing him at Mr. Major’s house.”
“He what?” JT stared at me.
Salnikova reacted as well, her gaze sharpening. “Did he threaten you in any way?”
“No, but it was . . . uncomfortable. And confusing.” I repeated what Beaufort had said to me about doing what he’d done—or not done, according to him—for the sake of the PGP. “But it makes more sense now that I’ve seen that letter. Sort of, anyway. Maybe he was trying to avoid a scandal that would, by association, reflect badly on the orchestra?”
A muscle in JT’s jaw twitched “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“It didn’t occur to me to mention it earlier.”
JT wanted to say more, but Salnikova jumped in before he had the chance.
“If Dr. Beaufort approaches you again, contact me immediately,” she said. “But please do your best to avoid him for the time being.”
“Do you think he might be dangerous?” I asked. “Could he be the murderer?”
“I’ll look into this letter,” Salnikova said. “And I’ll look into whatever is behind it, if anything.”
I was far from shocked that she stayed true to form and avoided answering my questions.
“I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t arrest him for breaking and entering,” I said.
“We couldn’t. He had a solid alibi.”
I couldn’t believe it. “How is that possible? I saw him there and I know I wasn’t mistaken.”
“I understand that,” Salnikova said, “but we didn’t have enough evidence to charge him. He left no fingerprints and his presence elsewhere at the time was confirmed by three others.”
That was frustrating. Whoever those three people were, they’d lied. I knew that for certain.
“But now you’ve got the letter,” I pointed out. “And doesn’t the fact that he wanted me to take back my statement seem suspicious to you?”
“It does. And as I said, I’ll look into it.”
“There’s something else you should probably know.” I hesitated, remembering what Hans had said about hoping to keep the theft quiet.
JT nudged my foot under the table. “Spill it.”
I hesitated only a second longer, believing that Salnikova really should have the information. “There was a bit of a situation at the theater. Another situation in addition to Major’s death, I mean. A brooch was stolen during the season’s opening reception and I believe my friend was framed for the theft. I thought the real thief was another violinist, but now I’m not so sure. And after reading Mr. Major’s letter I thought I should bring it up because I can’t help but wonder if Dr. Beaufort is the real thief.”
“Is the letter the only thing that makes you think that?” Salnikova asked.
“No,” I replied. “Remember how I told you before that I’d overheard part of a conversation between Mr. Major and Dr. Beaufort at the reception? At the time it didn’t really mean much to me, but now I’m sure it was related to whatever Mr. Major was referring to in the letter.”
“What did they say?” JT asked.
I took a moment to think, wanting to be as accurate as possible. “Mr. Major asked if Dr. Beaufort had thought about what they’d discussed. Beaufort said that threats would be ineffective, but then Mr. Major said he thought Beaufort would change his mind about things if his career and the orchestra were to suffer because he wouldn’t listen to reason. That’s what makes me think the letter is related.” I gave my left earlobe a tug before continuing. “After Dr. Beaufort said he had nothing to hide, Mr. Major said he wondered what the police would find if he called them in. I didn’t hear much more, but Dr. Beaufort definitely wasn’t pleased. And now that I think about it, maybe Mr. Major thought the police would find stolen items on Beaufort if they searched him.”
Three ticks of silence went by before Detective Salnikova spoke. “It does sound as though that conversation and the letter are related, but tying both to the theft is really just speculation.”
“Oh! I should have started out by mentioning the charity benefit.”
“What charity benefit?” JT asked.
“There was a charity benefit a couple of weeks before the PGP’s reception. Apparently, some jewelry was stolen there as well. The violinist I mentioned was playing in a quartet at the benefit, and that’s one of the reasons why she was on my suspect list. But Mr. Major and Dr. Beaufort were there as well. That could be how Major discovered that Beaufort is a thief, if he is one. Maybe Major saw him stealing at the benefit and guessed that he might have done the same at the reception.”
It made a lot of sense, now that I thought about it.
If Beaufort had indeed stolen the brooch, and had done so before his conversation with Mr. Major that night, maybe Major’s threat to contact the police frightened Beaufort into getting rid of the stolen item. Bronwyn had her large shoulder bag with her, at least in the moments before she left the theater. Had a desperate Beaufort slipped the jewelry into her bag in case Mr. Major made good on his threat?
That theory made so much sense that I was convinced it was correct. But was Beaufort a murderer as well as a thief?
“I’ll look into it,” Salnikova said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Before she had a chance to bring our meeting to an end, I jumped in with another question. “Who gave Dr. Beaufort his alibi for the night of the break-in at Mr. Major’s house?” I couldn’t help but be suspicious about that since I knew for a fact that it was false.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Of course she wasn’t.
I slumped back in my chair, frustrated.
“What about Kevin Major?” JT asked. “Any sign of him?”
“Not yet,” Salnikova replied. “But he’ll turn up.”
“Hopefully before he has a chance to hurt Midori again,” JT said.
Salnikova nodded her agreement with that statement. “If either of you see him, call 911.”
She pushed back her chair and I knew our meeting was about to end. I wasn’t ready for that to happen.
“Jordan and his family were sure surprised to find out that Mr. Major had another daughter,” I said.
“Yes,” Salnikova agreed as she stood up, “it must have been quite a shock.”
“Did she know Mr. Major was her father? Because if she did and she also knew he’d decided to leave money to her, that makes her a suspect.”
Salnikova tucked her chair under the table and rested her hands on its back rail. “Ms. Bishop, I’ve been on the police force for almost fifteen years now. Trust me when I say that I know how to do my job.”
Next to me, JT fought back a smirk. My arm twitched, I wanted so badly to elbow him in the ribs.
“So you’ve tracked her down and spoken to her?” I guessed.
“I’ve followed that avenue of investigation, yes.”
Her answer was far more informative than I’d expected.
“Did you know that Archibald Major was Ernest’s father as well?”
“I’m aware of that, yes.”
“How many kids did this guy father?” JT asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said, before getting back on course. “I’m sure Ernest didn’t kill Major, even though he’s harbored a lot of anger toward him. He told me he didn’t and I believe him. Maybe that sounds silly, but he seemed so sincere.”
Salnikova blinked at me. Obviously my opinion didn’t make much of an impression. I wondered if I should push my luck by asking another question.
JT didn’t give me a chance. He got up from his chair and said, “We’ll let you get back to work now, Detective.”
As Salnikova nodded in acknowledgment, I swallowed a sigh and got to my feet as well.
Out in the corridor, a uniformed officer approached us.
“Detective,” he hailed Salnikova. She met him halfway along the hall.
“We just got a call in from Surrey.” The officer kept his voice low, but not quite low enough to keep his words from my ears. “They’ve got a preliminary ID on a body they found this morning. They thought you’d want to know about it right away.”
“Why’s that?” Salnikova asked.
“Because,” the officer said, “the dead guy is Kevin Major.”