No Mortal Reason (20 page)

“Don’t be so defensive. I’m trying to help.” Then she told him where and in what condition Norman Saugus’s body had been found.

Her uncle grudgingly relented. “Howd’s gone. I’m not sure when he left. Mercy might know.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Probably up to Sundown. Damned inconvenient, if you’ll pardon my French. Last time he took off I had to pay a boy to work at the hotel and it cost me three dollars for ten days plus a fifty cent tip.”

Diana left him to his grumbling and went in search of the rest of the family. She found Mercy, Sebastian, and Mrs. Ellington in the kitchen. Since none of them were likely to have killed Norman Saugus, she gave them a succinct account of what she knew and asked Mrs. Ellington to come with her to break the news to Belle Saugus.

“You poor thing,” Mrs. Ellington sympathized. “What a grisly discovery.”

Diana swallowed hard as the image of Saugus’s dead face flashed before her eyes. She had a feeling it was going to be a long time before she rid herself of that ghastly memory.

* * * *

Ben returned to the hotel just in time to intercept Diana and Mrs. Ellington on their way to talk to Belle Saugus. “This isn’t your responsibility,” he told Diana. “I’ll tell her.”

“I am not some frail creature subject to fits of the vapors,” Diana reminded him. “I am perfectly capable of getting through the ordeal. And Mrs. Saugus should have a woman with her when she hears her husband is dead.”

Had Diana? Ben wondered. Had there been someone there for her when word had come that her husband had been shot to death in a barroom brawl?

“Besides,” she added, just as he was about to relent, “I have a job to do.”

“A
job
?” he echoed, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Murders make headlines, Ben.” A small frown creased her forehead. “We need to leave for Liberty as soon as we can after we talk to Mrs. Saugus. I have to send a telegram to Horatio Foxe.”

She was still upset, he told himself. She was hiding behind her profession to keep from falling to pieces. Surely she was not as cold-hearted as she sounded.

“Shall I still accompany you?” Mrs. Ellington asked. Was she as appalled by Diana’s statements as Ben had been? That would not bode well for Diana’s acceptance into the Grant family.

“Yes,” Diana said, before Ben could answer. “We can’t tell how Mrs. Saugus will react to the news. She may want the comfort of having other females around.”

She did not.

“Get out!” Belle Saugus snarled when they’d told her that her husband was dead. She didn’t even ask for details.

“But Mrs. Saugus—”

“Leave me be, Dr. Northcote! Haven’t you done enough?” With tears streaming down her face, she seemed truly distraught. Ben might have been fooled if he hadn’t caught sight of the skeptical look in Diana’s eyes.

The door slammed in their faces.

“Well, that’s that,” Tressa Ellington said. “I’ll go see about luncheon.”

“Myron told them to leave by noon today, but I don’t suppose he’ll press the widow to go.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Ben agreed. “In the meantime, shall we do as she asks and leave her alone? She obviously needs to come to grips with what’s happened.”

“And at least we’ll know where to find her,” Diana murmured.

A few minutes later, back in their own suite, he turned to her with a questioning look. “You think Belle killed her husband?”

“I think she overdid her reaction to the news.” She held her finger to her lips and listened. “I don’t hear any weeping and wailing now.”

“No maniacal laughter, either,” he said in a dry tone.

“How was Saugus killed?”

His certainty it was the journalist asking made Ben frown, but he answered her anyway. “A blow to the head.”

She looked at her hands and shivered. There was blood on one of her gloves. She tore off the stained one of the pair and threw it into a corner. “Blood dripped down his arm to his wrist.”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. “Someone hit Elly Lyseth on the head, too. It could have been the same person, Ben. Saugus’s killer tried to hide this body, too.”

  “The same murderer? After all these years?”

“Why not?” She began to pace.

Just watching her made Ben tired. “This killer didn’t hide the body. He put it on display.”

“Before this happened we were building a case against Norman Saugus for arson, and possibly for Elly Lyseth’s murder. There must be a connection.”

“What kind of connection?”

“Maybe Saugus had his own ideas about who killed Elly. Maybe he got too close.”

“You’re grasping at straws, Diana. And the most logical person to have killed Norman Saugus is the most obvious—the same one who tried to kill him less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“No. Not Uncle Myron. More likely Saugus’s wife killed him,
thinking
she could put the blame on Uncle Myron.”

“More people are murdered by their nearest and dearest than by strangers,” he conceded.

She gave him a sharp look but didn’t stop pacing. “I’m not going to ask how you know something like that.”

He caught her arm on the next pass and held her still. “Can you really be saying you believe Belle Saugus killed them both?”

“Why not? Unless she murdered Elly, Belle would have no reason to do away with her husband.”

“And if she was capable of murdering Elly—and she was on your list of suspects—she could certainly kill again to cover up the first crime. But, Diana, she’d have had to have help getting Saugus into that cornfield and up onto the cross that held the scarecrow.”

“Never underestimate a woman’s strength. Hauling water and beating rugs and doing other household chores builds as much muscle as wrestling trunks up flights of stairs or repairing a roof.”

“I don’t see Belle Saugus as particularly domestic.” Ben didn’t see that she’d had much reason to kill Elly Lyseth, either. The motive they’d speculated about had been jealousy, which presupposed an affair between Saugus and Elly. In light of what they’d learned from Howd and others, that seemed unlikely. At most, the young woman had flirted with him.

Diana frowned. “Perhaps she was not accustomed to hard manual labor, but I’ll wager Belle Saugus has had plenty of practice handling a husband too drunk to put himself to bed.”

The observation suggested that she spoke from personal experience, an idea Ben found distressing. “You’re jumping to conclusions,” he protested. “We have no evidence that Saugus was a drunkard. There are other reasons he might have stayed in his suite. He
might
have been ill. Or he could have been engrossed in planning his swindle.”

Diana didn’t seem to hear him. “The surrey is ready to go. Luke had already hitched up the horse.”

“You still intend to go to Liberty? The coroner will want to speak with you. I expect him to show up here at any moment.”

“The coroner can wait. Horatio Foxe cannot.”

* * * *

Handling the reins took most of Ben’s attention on the drive into Liberty, but every time he glanced at Diana she was scribbling in her notebook. She’d overcome his objections about making this trip by the simple expedient of setting off on foot for the livery stable in Lenape Springs. He’d been left to stay behind or follow, as suited him. Since he’d had no doubt that she would attempt to make the short journey to the telegraph office, with or without him, he’d had no real choice but to accompany her.

When they’d passed the field, he’d noticed that Mr. Buckley had arrived, but the coroner didn’t notice them slip past. Almost the entire village had gathered to watch him examine the body. Two more people at a distance made no impression.

Luke had been the only one in the livery stable, forbidden by his father to leave the premises. Castine was probably afraid he’d find a way to talk with Mercy Grant, Ben thought.

The young man hadn’t gotten around to unharnessing Old Jessie and within minutes they’d been on their way. Ben doubted anyone had noticed their departure from Lenape Springs. Even the post office had a CLOSED sign hung on the door. Osmer Nicholls had joined the rest of the curious townspeople to watch the coroner at work.

Or perhaps he’d been called out to make up a coroner’s jury, Ben thought, reconsidering. That might account for many of the men at the scene, but not for the women. Females couldn’t serve on juries. Ben wondered how that rule had come about. As far as he could see, there was little need to protect the so-called “weaker” sex. After all, women were the ones who endured childbirth, and delivered most babies, too.

“Should I say ‘bloodied and battered corpse’ or just ‘horrible sight of the murdered man?’“ Diana asked, pencil poised.

“Must you use either phrase? Mustn’t shock delicate sensibilities.”

His sarcasm prompted a curious look. “Even if I avoid hyperbole, Horatio Foxe won’t.” She cleared her throat and began to read aloud what she had written: “A most terrible, cowardly, and cold-blooded murder was committed under cover of night in the tiny hamlet of Lenape Springs in upstate New York.”

“This is hardly upstate. Sullivan County borders New Jersey.”

“Don’t be argumentative. Besides, to someone who lives in New York City, everything beyond Manhattan is upstate.”

“Even Long Island?”

She ignored his mocking tone. “The horribly mutilated body of Mr. Norman T. Saugus was discovered in a field by a passerby. It had been dressed in the clothing of a scarecrow and put in the straw man’s place. The authorities have been notified and are even now examining the remains. Coroner Buckley from Liberty, five miles distant, at once impaneled a jury. The post-mortem examination was made by Dr. Benjamin Northcote, visiting in the area from Maine. It was found that Mr. Saugus was battered to death with a blunt instrument.”

Ben ground his teeth but said nothing. What did it matter if Diana wrote “horribly mutilated” and “battered to death” or not. She was right. If she failed to insert sensational descriptive details, Horatio Foxe would.

“Coroner and jury,” Diana continued, “plan to search the rooms Mr. Saugus kept at the nearby Hotel Grant, a luxury establishment about to open for the Season.”

“Are you sure you want to mention the hotel by name?”

“If this is handled correctly, the publicity will benefit Uncle Myron’s enterprise.”

Ben wasn’t so sure about that, but didn’t argue.

“The murder victim was found at some distance from the hotel, which provides a safe and comfortable environment for guests. Since Mr. Saugus was not popular in the community, a number of suspects are being questioned.”

“Will you mention his quarrel with Myron?”

“No. I may hint at trouble in his marriage. And I’ve remembered something. Yesterday, at the Lenape Springs Villa, I overheard Pastor Riker speaking to members of his flock. He was complaining about Mr. Saugus. He said they’d have gambling and horse racing and loose morals in Lenape Springs, worse than Saratoga, if Saugus wasn’t stopped.”

“Surely you’re not going to suggest, in print, that a man of God ordered someone to commit murder?”

“Why not? What if one of Riker’s listeners took his words as a suggestion that someone should get rid of Saugus? Permanently.”

“Stick to one theory, Diana. I think it highly unlikely that anyone killed him just to stop the hotel from expanding.”

“Perhaps not, but what if the killer heard what Riker said and tried to cover up the real reason for the murder by pointing the finger at a religious fanatic?”

“Pointing a finger? How?”

“The body was left on a cross.” She was scribbling again. After a moment she sent him a sidelong glance just as he looked at her. “The best thing about this theory is that it eliminates both my uncles. They weren’t at the Lenape Springs Villa to hear what Riker said.”

“Someone else could have repeated it to them. And they have their own reasons for being angry with Saugus. The fight between your uncle and Saugus is going to come out, Diana. There’s no way to avoid it.”

“But I don’t have to publicize it. And if I suggest other suspects to my readers, the authorities will have to take notice. Now, who else would want Saugus dead? Someone on my list of suspects in Elly Lyseth’s murder would be best. What about Celia Lyseth? Given what we know of Mrs. Lyseth now, she probably thought her daughter’s behavior immoral. Perhaps she did kill Elly. And if Saugus suspected her and she realized it, she could have killed him.
Or
, if she overheard the preacher, she might have taken it upon herself to carry out Riker’s wishes.”

“Next you’ll be telling me Jonas Riker has mesmerized his entire congregation and turned them into assassins. Diana, listen to yourself. Your imagination is out of control. Those are wild speculations for a newspaper story, even one for the
Independent Intelligencer
.”

“It is an absurd crime. It may well have a fantastic solution.”

She should be writing fiction, Ben thought, not for the first time, but what disturbed him most was her seeming indifference to the grisly discovery she had made. She had been shaken by her experience at first, but now . . .

“Murder is not an intellectual exercise, Diana.”

“No, it is an abomination. And by writing about it, I may be able to impress that upon my readers.”

“By creating rumors and spreading scandal?”

“Have you a better way?”

“Let the authorities deal with Saugus’s death, Diana. There is no need for you to be involved.”

“No need?” Her voice rose in pitch, making him wince. “I found him, Ben. That made it personal. And someone in my family may be accused of the crime. Am I to ignore that?”

“So you coldly state your version of the facts and—”

A small exclamation drew his eyes to her face. She looked hurt by his words and he was instantly contrite.

“If you wanted a frail, weepy sort of female, you should not have chosen me. Perhaps you would like to change your mind?”

She would not look at him and sat stiffly at his side, careful not to let her skirt touch his trousers.

“I don’t want any woman but you, Diana,” Ben said gruffly, “but there are times I wish you were less a newspaperwoman and more my intended bride. There is no need for you to write about this murder. Tell Foxe you are too closely involved. Better yet, let me tell him.”