Round up the Usual Puffins
“Fresh air?” he repeated as we finished fastening our rain gear.
“The game is afoot,” I said. “Let’s go up to the Dickermans’ for a minute.”
“I can manage that far,” Michael said as we turned down the road. “Barely. But why?”
“Every time I’ve seen Winnie and Binkie for the past few days, they’ve been going up or coming down the road from the Dickermans’,” I said. “I just assumed it was for bird-watching purposes. Or because they’ve all been friends for decades. But now that we know Binkie’s a crack criminal lawyer, it strikes me as odd that she would spend so much time near the house of the only two criminals on the island whose identity we already know. Let’s go see what’s up.”
In the light of day, the Dickermans’ house looked rather more run-down than usual, even for Monhegan. Signs that they could no longer afford the upkeep? Or just my overactive imagination?
I knocked on the door, and we waited awhile—I had a feeling someone was inspecting us from behind a curtain. Then the door opened and Mrs. Dickerman peered out.
“May we come in?” I asked.
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. I walked into the living room, where Winnie and Binkie sat holding teacups. Mr. Dickerman stood before the fireplace, looking anxious.
“Meg, dear, how nice to see you,” Binkie said, looking up with
a smile. “And Michael. Mamie says you two are trying to play detective.”
“We’re trying to keep them from railroading my Dad, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “Just because Mother knew Victor Resnick half a century ago does not make Dad suspect number one.”
“Quite right, I’m sure,” Binkie said. “And how’s your sleuthing going along, then?”
Chalk it up to tiredness, but I had no patience for drawn-out verbal fencing.
“Coming along about as well as you’d expect,” I said. “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to come clean about Will?”
The Dickermans started, and even Winnie looked mildly disconcerted. Binkie only smiled and sipped her tea.
“Come clean?” she said with a shake of her head. “My, that sounds so melodramatic. I can almost hear Cagney saying it, or Bogart. What on earth could Will Dickerman have to do with the events of the past few days?”
“Quite a lot, if he was on the island for the past few days,” I said.
“I can assure you, Will Dickerman is not on the island today, and was not on the island at the time of Victor Resnick’s death.” Binkie said.
“How can you be so sure, if he’s on the lam?”
Binkie sighed.
“Because just before Winnie and I came over to the island, I accompanied Will to the Port Clyde police station, where he surrendered himself to custody,” Binkie said in a brisk, businesslike tone of voice. “Needless to say, there was no possibility of bail.”
I thought for a moment.
“I notice you were very careful to say when Will wasn’t on the island,” I said. “Just for the sake of argument, suppose he had been on the island sometime after he skipped bail and before he went to the mainland to turn himself in.”
Binkie raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Suppose he had hidden himself by camping out on the far side of the island, and Michael and I had found the remains of his campsite.”
Mr. and Mrs. Dickerman started.
“I mean, if we were absolutely sure it had nothing to do with the murder, Michael and I wouldn’t have to go out of our way to report the campsite to the police,” I said. “In case they got the idea that someone on the island was aiding and abetting a fugitive by bringing Will food and beer.”
Binkie thought for a moment.
“Hypothetically, if I were representing any parties involved in the situation you describe, I would work with the district attorney to arrange immunity from prosecution on the aiding and abetting charges in return for providing vital evidence in a homicide.”
“But if what you say is true, the campsite isn’t vital evidence, is it?”
“To the extent that a defense attorney might use the campsite to muddy the waters in a trial, the police might find the true explanation of its origin rather vital, now wouldn’t they, dear?” Binkie smiled gently.
I gazed at her round weathered face and wondered how many sharp young district attorneys had, over the years, come to grief by mistaking Binkie for a harmless, well-bred New England matron.
“So in the unlikely event that we found this hypothetical campsite, we could safely assume it had nothing to do with the murder?”
“I imagine you could safely assume it was abandoned three or four days before the murder,” Binkie said.
And from the look on her face, I doubted we’d pry any more information out of Binkie. I stood up to go.
“Sorry to barge in,” I said, looking at the Dickermans. I felt
sorry for them. Not their fault, really, how Fred and Will had turned out; or if it was, they were certainly paying for it now. “I hope you can work things out with the power plant and all. I know Aunt Phoebe’s not sold on it, but I’m sure a lot of people around here would hate to see it shut down or change hands.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Binkie said. She smiled—not the gentle smile I’d seen previously, but the sort of smile that made me feel very, very sorry for anyone who might attempt to take the Central Monhegan Power Company away from the Dickermans.
Just then, we heard frantic knocking at the door. Both of the Dickermans leapt to answer it, then returned almost immediately with Mamie and Dad at their heels.
“Ah, Mamie thought we’d find you up here!” Dad exclaimed. I was about to ask what he wanted me for, but then I realized he was looking at Binkie.
“Dr. Langslow suggested that we might want a couple of doctors to examine Resnick’s body,” Mamie said. “Just in case there’s anything significant that doesn’t … uh, last. Seemed like a good idea.”
“Yes,” Binkie said. “Provided you have some responsible witnesses to supervise the proceedings, of course.”
“We thought perhaps you could do that,” Mamie said.
“Of course,” Binkie said. “Shall we go now?”
“Well, first we have to find John Peabody,” Dad said. “He’s the only other doctor we know of on the island, and we haven’t seen him all day.”
“Off finding a bit of peace and quiet, I imagine,” Winnie said. Having met Mrs. Peabody, I imagined he was right.
“Winnie and I can find John, then meet you at the Anchor Inn,” Binkie said. “We’ll see you later, then,” she told the Dickermans, and shooed the rest of us out. She and Winnie hiked off in search of Dr. Peabody while Mamie, Dad, Michael, and I took what Mamie assured us was a shortcut to the Anchor Inn.
“Oh, Meg,” Dad said as we strolled. “Mrs. Peabody said you had her digital camera and could take some pictures.”
“What a great idea,” Michael said.
I rolled my eyes, wondering whether I really wanted to be involved in this.
Just then, we rounded a turn in the path and I caught sight of a cottage I hadn’t seen before.
“Mamie,” I said. “That’s Rhapsody’s cottage, isn’t it?”
“Why yes,” she said, beaming. “How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess,” I murmured.