Death Comes Silently (9 page)

Annie looked into observant, watchful eyes. “You want attention and I may no longer write.”

A faint purr indicated pleasure.

Annie put down the pen. She petted Agatha and thought about a card in a dead man’s pocket. Was it possible that the discovery of the card signed a death warrant for Gretchen?

Why?

According to Gretchen, the card explained why Everett Hathaway had gone out in a kayak on a cold winter night. Was the explanation so incriminating that Gretchen had to die to keep the contents of the card secret?

Everett had drowned in winter-cold water.

What was incriminating about the reason he went out in the kayak?

Slowly, an idea took shape.

What if Everett Hathaway’s death was not an accident?

Agatha rubbed her cheek against Annie’s hand.

Annie looked into golden eyes. “Agatha, I’d think I was nuts except Gretchen’s dead and the only thing different about her day at Better Tomorrow was finding the index card in Everett’s pocket. Gretchen whining about Jeremiah wasn’t new. She complained every time she saw him. No, what was new was the card.”

Cause and effect, card found, call made, woman dead.

Annie knew everything seemed clear to her. Would anyone else believe her, most especially Billy Cameron?

She reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

B
illy Cameron answered his cell. “Yo, Annie.” His tone held faint inquiry.

She plunged straight to her point. “I’ve been thinking over everything Gretchen said, and I’m sure Gretchen was acting just as usual about Jeremiah and that he’s innocent. She wasn’t really frightened of him.”

“I heard the calls.” Billy spoke in a level voice. “She sounded scared. Her purse is gone. He’s gone. No trace of him. We have to deal with the facts as they are. I wish they were different. So we’ll look for him until we find him. I’m leaving now for a search near the bluffs.”

The bluffs were an eroding end of the island between the open sea and the Sound where heavy currents pulled at crumbling shoreline, a wild and uninhabited area and a good distance from Henny’s marsh.

Annie was careful to keep the relief from her voice. “Has someone sighted him?”

“We’ve had some reports.”

As she’d expected, Billy was totally focused on Jeremiah Young. She picked her way as delicately as a cat through dewy grass. “Billy, what about the Hathaways? Gretchen was sure she’d found something shocking in the pocket of Everett’s jacket.”

“From what you’ve told me”—his tone was dry—“she treated everything as high drama.
A Card From the Dead Man’s Pocket
.” He spoke in the hushed voice of the intro to an old-time radio show. Death on Demand carried CDs of the
Inner Sanctum
and
The Shadow
. Billy was a big fan. “The temptation to magnify the card must have been irresistible.”

“Billy, I know Gretchen loved high drama. But she did find a card.”

“Right.” He was calm, a man who followed procedure. “I followed up on it. I talked to Mrs. Hathaway this morning. Since I spoke with her yesterday, she’d asked everyone in the house. No one saw a message on the telephone pad. She says someone must have thrown it away.”

Annie asked quietly, “How do you know no one saw her message?”

There was a pause. “What are you suggesting?”

“Maybe the card in Everett’s pocket did matter.” Annie tried to sound reasonable, sensible. “Even for Gretchen, scandal was a strong word. What if the card contained information someone couldn’t afford for anyone to know? Maybe someone at the Hathaway house found the message Gretchen left and came to Better Tomorrow and made sure that Gretchen would never tell anyone what she’d seen.”

“Lots of maybes there.” He was dismissive. “There’s no maybe about Jeremiah’s fingerprints on the axe that killed her.”

Annie pictured Better Tomorrow and the woodpile near the shed, clearly visible from the oyster shell parking lot. “The woodpile is easily seen. Maybe Jeremiah left the axe by that unfinished pile of wood. The killer—”

Billy interrupted. “Someone from the Hathaway house?” He was clearly skeptical.

So much for Annie’s effort to build her case. But she continued determinedly, “Someone from the Hathaway house.”

“What could be such a big deal about a card in a dead man’s jacket?”

“Gretchen said the card explained why he took the kayak out that night. Kayaking alone at night in December wasn’t usual for him, was it?” Annie hoped that Billy would let her finish, allow her to lay out the chilling scene that now seemed absolutely obvious to her. “I understand the family was surprised. No one offered an explanation as to why he might have gone out. He knew how to kayak, but he wasn’t an expert. Had he ever taken a kayak out on a winter night?”

“Not so far as is known.” His tone suggested there might have been instances, they simply weren’t aware of them.

Annie took a deep breath. “What if someone wrote a note on a card that was guaranteed to entice Everett Hathaway to slip out of his house on a winter night and take a kayak to a cove that has only a few homes?”

“What possible difference does it make why he went out?” Billy was impatient. “We know he was in a kayak and capsized.”

Annie spoke as if she were slapping an ace on a king. “If someone
knew what time he was going out and where he was going, it would be easy to intercept him.”

“Granted.” He sounded wary.

“Let’s say someone in a boat hailed him, came close, and tipped over the kayak. The water was cold. All the boater had to do was keep the kayak just out of his reach. It wouldn’t take long to commit a murder that left no trace. It was too far to swim to shore, and as soon as Everett lost consciousness from hypothermia, his face smacked into the water and he drowned.” She kept talking over a grumbling dissent. “Maybe that’s what someone is trying to hide. Maybe the card would open up lots of questions about who wrote it and what it said. Maybe the card would make everybody question whether his death was an accident.”

“That seems as likely to me as the craters on Mars being man-made. You’ve built a case out of nothing. Maybe you need a crash course in reality. That’s a pretty big leap, from a card in a man’s pocket to the idea he was murdered and somebody slipped into Better Tomorrow from the Hathaway house. I can tell you for sure”—Billy was emphatic—“Everett Hathaway’s death was an accident and no one will ever prove otherwise.”

“It could have happened that way.” Annie felt eerily confident that the dark December night had unfolded just as she imagined, a boat coming up out of the darkness, a call, the kayak pulling near as the boat idled in the water, then a hand reaching out to push and the kayak tumbling to one side, Everett struggling, submerging in the water, the shocking cold strangling the shout in his throat, the kayak caught by a gaff, the boat pulled away from the flailing victim.

“Oh, sure, and unicorns play canasta with my dog every Saturday night. Come on, Annie”—his tone was irritated—“why would anybody kill Everett Hathaway? He was an ineffectual rich guy who
quoted poetry. He got his hair cut at the same time I did every month, and every other sentence was a quote from somebody you never heard of. Look, I know you mean well”—he was trying for patience—“but I deal in facts, and I’ve got facts and I’m looking for a fugitive.”

“That card in his pocket was a fact.” Annie said hurriedly, “What if someone came from the Hathaway house to pick up the card? Gretchen would have handed it over, but I know she would have chattered. I can hear her now.
I didn’t want to disturb the family. But I thought you would want to know.
She would have been quivering with excitement. It wouldn’t take
a
minute for a listener to know this was a garrulous, gossipy woman who, after whispering this was so confidential, would regale people she knew with the message she found in Everett Hathaway’s jacket.”

“Let me get this straight.” He was almost sarcastic, unusual for Billy. “One, you say Hathaway was murdered. Two, a card in his jacket contained information his murderer had to keep quiet. Three, Gretchen left a message about the card at the Hathaway house. Four, the murderer saw that message and came to Better Tomorrow. Then what?”

“On the way out”—she spoke slowly as she tried to follow a shadowy figure from the sorting room—“the killer’s thinking fast. There are racks of coats, scarves. Maybe the killer stops and grabs a scarf.”

“A scarf?”

“Gretchen was a small woman. If someone came up behind her, it would be easy to drop a scarf over her head and strangle her.”

“She wasn’t strangled.” His voice was sharp.

“No.” Annie tried to imagine that shadowy figure, a scarf or muffler in hand, perhaps turning back toward the hall and the sorting room and then a memory of an axe propped by chopped wood. Obviously a handyman’s prints would be on the handle. A swift decision. Out to the woodpile, picking up the axe with the scarf, carrying it
inside. “I think the murderer remembered the axe and decided to get it, maybe even thinking ahead that someone’s fingerprints would be on the handle and if the axe were used, the workman would be suspect. Which is exactly what happened, didn’t it?”

Billy was impatient. “If, if, if… You don’t have a single fact to support your suggestions. Besides, the clincher is that Jeremiah ran away.”

“He’d been in prison. He came inside and found a woman battered to death with an axe he’d used to chop wood. Let’s say that instead of running, he had called you. Would he be suspect number one, especially after you heard her messages on my cell?”

“Her purse was taken.” Billy’s tone was dogged.

“If I’m right, this murderer thinks fast. Gretchen’s purse was probably on the floor behind the sorting table. How easy would it be to grab the purse to make her murder look like a robbery gone wrong?”

“Maybe you should write some of those books in your shop.” He was dismissive. “You’re making something out of nothing and you ignore the facts.”

Her hand tightened on the phone. “There’s one fact you’ve ignored.”

“Oh?”

“Where is the card that Gretchen found in Everett Hathaway’s jacket?”

“She put it in her purse for safekeeping.”

“That isn’t what she said.” Annie concentrated, trying to recall Gretchen’s words. “She told me that she’d left a message that the card and some coins and a pocketknife were there and could be picked up anytime. She said she put them on the table in the sorting room. What did you find on the table in the sorting room?” She heard a faint rustling of papers.

“Three quarters, two dimes, four pennies. A Buck folding pocketknife.” He rattled off the model number. “Gretchen Burkholt’s fingerprints overlay unidentified prints, likely those of Everett Hathaway.”

“Did you find an index card?”

He blew out a spurt of air. “No.”

“Until you find that card, I won’t agree that Jeremiah is the only possible suspect. Will you try to find out if a car owned by someone at the Hathaway house was seen anywhere near Better Tomorrow between two fifteen and the time I called for help?”

He shrugged. “Sure, Annie. Maybe it will set your mind at rest. We’ll make inquiries.”

A
nnie called Henny’s cell. She wasn’t surprised when there was no answer. She had no doubt Henny’s cell was with her, but she also had no doubt that Henny was intent upon avoiding Annie. A message would do. Annie glanced at her watch. “Hi, Henny. It’s Annie. It’s almost eleven. I’m calling because I need your help. I’m sure Jeremiah is innocent. I know he ran away, but I have good reason to think someone else was there. I’m afraid it’s up to me now. Billy Cameron is convinced Jeremiah is guilty. I hope you will help me. You know everyone on the island, and I think we could find out a lot. Of course, you may not agree, but if you’re willing to help, please meet me at Parotti’s at noon.” Annie ended the call.

She didn’t want to be prideful, but if that bait didn’t lure her fish, she was going to be surprised.

She gave Agatha a final caress, popped up from the table, and hurried to the back area that was part storeroom, part office. At her computer, she pulled up the
Broward’s Rock Gazette
, keyed in
Everett Hathaway
. She printed out two news stories and the obituary.

ISLANDER FOUND DEAD NEAR CAPSIZED KAYAK

by Marian Kenyon