Chapter 32

“...A man’s brain is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose.”

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet

It was almost nine-thirty p.m. when we arrived at the mansion. Morgan was determined to use his badge to bull his way in, but it wasn’t necessary. Instead of Toller, a young black man who didn’t give his name opened the door and showed us into the foyer. All the lights in the entire house were on. The dining room doors were tightly shut, but I could feel Mrs. Toller’s presence. For the first time it hit me that someone had cracked her head open and killed her in cold blood. I shuddered. Then I shuddered again because I was the prime suspect.

When the new man left to get Ivy Douglas, Morgan grabbed my arm.

“Let’s get to the library. Com’on.”

We took off. I had to jog to keep pace with him.

“Get that bookcase open fast, DD. And don’t pay any attention to what’s going on around you. Just open it. Once that safe is exposed, there’s a better chance Ivy Douglas will cooperate.”

“Okay,” I saluted. “I had no idea you could be so devious. But what about the silent alarm? I’m not kidding about that.”

“I’ll take care of that,” he promised. I don’t know that I felt very assured.

The library was empty. I went directly to the section of wall to the left of the fireplace and tapped on the decorative molding as I’d done last night. This was déjà vu all over again, as Yogi Berra said. Morgan peered over my shoulder.

“Under here is the switch,” I pointed.

Morgan pulled out his cell and phoned the nearest stationhouse. He told them to put any alarms, silent or otherwise at the 4016 Woodlawn Avenue address, on test for two hours. Now I felt better knowing the cops wouldn’t respond.

“Okay, go ahead DD.”

I pressed on the molding. It shifted 90 degrees just as it had done last night to reveal the hinges and the switch underneath.

Ivy Douglas entered the library trailed by the new man. As soon as she saw me, she stopped. The new man almost ran into her.

She pointed her long, thin arm at me, like a crazed Medea. “Get out,” she said shakily. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in jail.”

Morgan flashed his badge. “Police business. She’s here with me.”

“What’s going on?” she demanded of Morgan. “Wait, don’t I know you?”

Morgan said nothing as I clicked the switch and the bookcase shifted outwards. Morgan and I backed up as it swung wide into the room on its little rolling wheels.

Ivy Douglas watched with an open mouth as the open bookcase revealed the wall safe behind it.

“I didn’t know that was there.” She drew closer to examine the safe, then turned to the new man. “Jamal, phone Mr. Dodd. Tell him to come here immediately.”

Jamal hurried out as Ivy Douglas said to Morgan, “Is this what she was after last night? Does this have anything to do with poor Mrs. Toller?”

“You didn’t know about this safe, Miss Douglas?” Morgan asked.

“Absolutely not. No one’s ever mentioned it, and as far as I know it’s not in any of the estate papers. How did she know it was there?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s part of our on-going investigation.”

Ivy ran her hands over the face of the safe lock. “Can you open it?” she asked.

“Go to the desk, Miss McGil. See if you can find that combination,” Morgan ordered.

Ivy shook her head. “I’ve been through that desk a hundred times. I can tell you there’s no combination in there.”

I tried to remember everything I’d learned at the insurance training sessions on hidden compartments. I quickly located the two hidden drawers I’d found earlier. They were still empty. I continued searching, looking for hidden spring mechanisms.

I remembered that sometimes pigeonholes have secret compartments. But I measured and couldn’t find any space not taken. But something had to be here. I took a deep breath, trying to remember examples we’d worked on in the seminar. I removed the central drawers and then tried to slide the pigeonholes sideways.

“I tell you there’s nothing there,” Ivy Douglas repeated.

“Keep trying,” Morgan ordered.

The pigeonholes moved to the right in one motion. Morgan saw what was happening. I searched for a spring mechanism or lever that would open a secret compartment off the drawers. I felt all around the opening with my fingers. I pressed here. I pushed there. I slowly nudged and jammed my fingers in the entire area, touching the wood, hoping to get lucky and hit something.

James Dodd rushed in to the library, handing his overcoat to Jamal. “What’s going on?” He spied me at the desk. “What’s she doing here?”

Ivy pointed at the wall safe. “This wasn’t on any inventory, James. Somehow Miss McGil found it.”

“A wall safe,” Dodd said as he headed toward it. “No one knew about this. We may find even more estate treasures in here.” He smiled at Ivy as they crossed to the desk and stood next to Morgan where they all looked over my shoulder.

I kept feeling and shoving, trying to find the hidden spring mechanism. No one said a word as I slowly and carefully poked and prodded the entire area again and again.

“It’s no use.” I turned and faced them. “I can’t find it.”

“Our firm has been through that desk,” James Dodd interjected. “We found two secret drawers. I can assure you there are no more hidden compartments. By the way, we haven’t been introduced. I’m James Dodd of Morrison, Morrison and Dodd, the estate executors. You have some identification, I presume?”

Morgan took out his badge and held it up.

Dodd read it and nodded. “Lieutenant Morgan. I thought you looked familiar. You were one of the detectives who was here when the old Dowager died.”

Ivy Douglas peered at Morgan and pursed her lips.

Morgan smiled and replaced his ID badge. “I remember you too, Mr. Dodd.” Then he pointed to the desk. “Now try getting at that secret compartment one more time Miss McGil,” he ordered.

“It won’t help, but I’ll try.”

I turned again to the desk and gently inserted my hand. My nail snagged something. There was a tiny noise and a slight movement. I looked in. I’d tripped the spring mechanism, and a recessed compartment finally revealed itself. My insurance instructor would be proud.

Everyone crowded around to look. Morgan flipped open his notebook and peered into the recessed compartment. “There’s some numbers carved into the wood at the bottom of the compartment.”

He got a magnifying glass off the table with the paperweights and read off a series of four numbers separated by dashes.

James Dodd felt around the secret compartment when Morgan was finished. “This is exciting. I never would have believed there was another compartment in that desk. Do you think these numbers might be the combination to the safe?”

“That’s what I’d like to find out right now,” Morgan said. “If that’s okay with you, Miss Douglas?”

Ivy Douglas looked at Dodd. “What’s your advice, James?”

Dodd nodded. “Definitely,” he said. “If those numbers are a combination, we’ll record anything we find in there. You can all initial the list yourself. We’ll add it to the inventory, and we’ll get whatever we find appraised as quickly as possible for the auction.”

Ivy nodded at Morgan who approached the safe. Since no directions for right or left were scratched in the wood, I wondered where he’d start. I inched closer for a better view.

“I’ll start to the right,” Morgan said, and called out each number as he fiddled with the old fashioned lock. “Twenty-two right, five left, eighteen right, and fifty nine left.”

Dodd stood next to me. He said, “It’s unusual to have a combination with four numbers. When we run across these old safes in our practice, we find they usually have either five or seven numbers.”

The old phrase “you could have heard a pin drop” described the scene. Everyone was silent. We all heard the plunky noise the lock made as Morgan shifted the hand lever. The door of the safe opened slightly.

“It worked,” Morgan said with a surprised look on his face. “Can you beat that?” He swung the safe door open wide.

James Dodd elbowed Morgan out of the way. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He looked in and yelled, “It’s empty!”

Ivy Douglas peered in too. “There’s nothing,” she said. “It’s completely empty.”

“Too bad,” Morgan said quietly.

“Well, perhaps this explains why it wasn’t inventoried,” Dodd offered.

Ivy Douglas turned and pointed at me. “Lieutenant, she broke in here last night. How do we know that she didn’t find something in it and take out whatever it was?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Dodd nodded in assent. “What exactly did she do here last night?”

“Maybe she found this combination after all,” Ivy Douglas added. “Maybe all this looking for the numbers was all a big act for our benefit. And maybe Mrs. Toller found her opening the safe last night.”

“And maybe that’s why she killed her,” James Dodd said.

I got the goose bumps. They already knew from what Karl had told the cops that I was looking for a safe in here last night. But that’s all they knew. They didn’t know I’d found it, and I wasn’t about to tell them. My trial was forthcoming, and I couldn’t afford to have more charges added. I could be facing a felony instead of a misdemeanor. Once again I could hear Karl’s voice telling me to keep silent. I clenched my jaw and let Morgan do the talking. I counted on his pledge of confidentiality.

“Miss McGil did not murder Mrs. Toller,” he said.

Ivy Douglas stared at me. “Of course she did. Nobody else was in the house.”

“The dining room window was open,” I said.

“And Miss McGil has an alibi for the time of Mrs. Toller’s death,” Morgan said.

“Alibi’s can be broken,” Ivy Douglas insisted.

“Not Miss McGil’s. The Police Department is satisfied. She couldn’t have been in two places at once. So drop it. And now we’d like to see Mr. Toller,” Morgan said. “Is he here in the house?”

Ivy Douglas called Jamal and told him to get Toller.

He left, and we waited in silence - two armies at dawn anticipating the first salvo in the next skirmish. When Toller arrived, he looked ten years older. His complexion was ashen, and he seemed to have shrunk. His hair was mussed, his shoes weren’t polished, and his eyes were red-rimmed. I liked Toller. He was a fellow Scot which counted in my book. He also appeared to be a genuinely grieving husband. I could easily have fallen into an emotional trap and put him above suspicion. But one of Auntie Elizabeth’s proverbs is that a man with a bad character is liable to be blamed for any misdeed done; while a person not open to suspicion may commit a crime without challenge. Her words rang in my ears, so I forced myself to be extra skeptical.

He eyed me with hostility. “Why is she here? I was told she was in the house when they found Jean.”

Morgan showed his badge. “I’m Lt. Morgan Fernandez, Mr. Toller. As I was telling Ms. Douglas and Mr. Dodd here, Miss McGil didn’t kill your wife. The Police have cleared her. She’s no longer a suspect.”

I approached him. “Mr. Toller, I got a chance to talk with your wife. She was a lovely person. I’m so sorry about her death. I had nothing to do with it, I assure you.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Toller said.

Morgan waved Toller to the sofa near the fireplace and told him to have a seat. “There’s a few things I want to go over with you. And Ms. Douglas and Mr. Dodd, I want to thank you for your cooperation with opening the safe. Now would you please leave? I’d like to speak with Mr. Toller in private.”

“I think I have a right to hear anything that’s said in my own house,” Ivy Douglas protested.

James Dodd took her by the elbow. “Ivy, this is a Police investigation. Let’s go. He has the right to question Toller in private. Lt. Fernandez, you can let us know if we can be of further assistance.”