Part 4 (1/2)
Her face flushed. How could she have been so stupid? Elliot was an a.s.s, a blowhard, a bully-and she was playing right into his hands by overreacting like this.
Everyone started talking at once, and Max was trying to push past her to Elliot when the string of bells at the door jangled, and a high-pitched voice shrieked: ”My G.o.d, everyone, have you heard? Isn't it the most awful? What can we do?”
Harriet Edelman's wispy blond hair quivered, her light green eyes bulged. Leaning forward, she paused, savoring her moment in the spotlight. One hand was outstretched dramatically, and the large ruby on her hand winked like a cat's eye at night.
”She's dead, her head all bashed in. It's murder. Murder here on Broward's Rock.”
A vocal melee broke out. It was Capt. Mac's stentorian bellow which finally brought quiet.
”The facts, Harriet,” he instructed, with a former cop's authority.
With dreadful curiosity, everyone subsided and listened. In just such a fas.h.i.+on, Annie thought with a s.h.i.+ver, a Wentworth mystery began. She scanned the faces in the room.
Harriet's information was meager but grim. ”It's Jill Kearney.”
There was a gasp from one of the circle, and Annie felt a pang of horror.
She knew Jill. She liked her. Murdered? ”... at the Island Hills Clinic.
Her body was found this morning in the dispensary. Bludgeoned to death. Police are seeking information from anyone who saw her last night.”
”Are any drugs missing?” Emma was crisp. Harriet repeated blankly, ”Drugs?”
”From the dispensary,” Emma said, giving her tinted head an impatient shake. ”Morphine, codeine, what have you.”
Harriet's self-importance collapsed. ”I don't know. I just heard about it a few minutes ago. I had on KM 103, and they broke in with a news flash.”
Capt. Mac moved toward the counter. ”Annie, may I use the phone?”
But he was already dialing.
They waited respectfully, avoiding each other's eyes. Capt. Mac got through immediately to Frank Saulter, Broward's Rock's aloof police chief. His questions were brisk and concise. But, when he hung up, he stared down for a long moment, and Annie could see the hard ridges in his face. Finally, he turned to face them.
”The body was discovered at 9:05 this morning by a boy who comes in on weekends to feed the animals. Everything seemed normal when he arrived, back door locked, no sign of forced entry. He unlocked the outer door, went in, and started to go directly to the kennels, when he. noticed the dispensary door ajar down the hall. Shouldn't have been open.
Walked in, saw Jill lying facedown on the floor. Said he knew she was dead, but he touched her anyway, and she was cold. Ran like h.e.l.l to the phone, called Frank at home.”
He paused and now not only his eyes looked glacial. His face might have been carved out of ice. Dirty ice.
”Was the dispensary rifled?”
Capt. Mac looked at Emma with respect. ”No signs of it. They called in Dr. Foster.”
Foster was Jill Kearney's partner.
”d.a.m.n funny place for a drug heist,” Fritz Hemphill objected. ”How about strangers? Jimmy Moon clock anybody in?”
The island residents understood the significance of that question. When the skillet-shaped end of the island was developed, the Halcyon Development Company set up a checkpoint past the old main street near Heron's Point. To reach any of the new condos, the golf courses, the tennis courts, the luxurious homes, the harbor shops, and, of course, the Island Hills Veterinary Clinic, cars traveled the single blacktop road that pa.s.sed a checkpoint manned by a. Broward's Rock resort employee. Jimmy Moon, an ex-Marine sergeant, had Sat.u.r.day night duty. He knew everybody on the island. Strangers were admitted only with a pa.s.s from the Realty Company.
Capt. Mac's voice was uninflected. ”Jimmy didn't admit any strangers Sat.u.r.day night or Sunday morning.” He didn't have to underscore it.
”Looks like it happened early Sunday. M.E. sets the time of death after ten P.M. Sat.u.r.day and before two A.M. Sunday. Her boyfriend, Si Whitney, took her home from the Island movies at shortly before ten. On their way, they stopped by the clinic for Jill's last check, but he said she intended to come back about one A.M., something about a dog that needed to be turned after surgery.”
”Last ferry off the island leaves at ten,” Fritz said, twisting a paper napkin.
They considered this in silence. Of course, someone could have come or left by boat, but it was a good twenty-minute boat ride to the mainland. Broward's Rock was a self-contained community. Casual marauders were unlikely. No, it had to be a resident or a visitor familiar with the clinic. Moreover, unless Jimmy Moon was mistaken, Jill's murderer had to be a member of the resort community because no stranger had pa.s.sed the checkpoint. ”Why would anybody murder Jill?”
Capt. Mac shook his head. ”It doesn't look drug-related. Foster checked the cabinets. All the morphine and codeine are accounted for.”
”Was anything disturbed?” Emma Clyde's almost square face creased in thought. ”Nothing. Nothing at all.”
”Was she a.s.saulted?” Emma asked immediately, and Annie could almost see her mind tearing along, throwing up one scenario, then another.
”No. Nothing like that. Just the one blow to the head.” He jerked out the next words. ”d.a.m.n shame. M.E. said the girl had an unusually thin skull. Anybody else might have been knocked out and suffered nothing worse than a headache. Jill hemorrhaged. d.a.m.n shame.”
”Some kind of maniac is loose on the island,” Harriet hissed. ”Nothing else makes sense.”
”Something will make sense,” Emma Clyde mused. ”This doesn't have the hallmark of a senseless killing. Mark my words, when we know everything, there will be a motive.”
”Any fingerprints?” Fritz inquired.
Kelly spoke at the same time. ”What is known about Jill Kearney? What kind of person was she?”
Like sharks at feeding time, their intellects fed on Jill's death. Annie held up her hand.
”Hey, everybody, this is awful. I didn't know Jill well, but she was kind and-” Annie thought about Boots and what Jill had done. Oh, G.o.d.
”Let's not talk about her like she's a lab report.” With a pang, she realized that Jill was now just that. ”Anyway, let's call it off for tonight.
We can get together next week.”
Harriet squealed. ”Oh, I can't possibly go home now. I'll dream about it all night. Besides, maybe we can pool all of our brains.” Her bony face was alight with greedy curiosity. ”Don't you think we can solve it, if we try? Why, there can't be a better set of criminal minds-”
”For once Harriet's put her finger on it,” Elliot interrupted.
He stood and moved toward the coffee bar. ”Criminal Minds, that will be a wonderful t.i.tle for my new book. Perfect.” He bowed mockingly toward Harriet, who flushed an ugly crimson. ”I have to thank you, Harriet. I wasn't pleased with any of the t.i.tles I'd come up with. Criminal Minds.
Perfect.”
He was leaning against the coffee bar, at ease, cigarette in his mouth, the noxious odor hanging heavily in the air.
”Come on, everyone, let's respect our little Annie's sensibilities. She doesn't want to talk about Jill's murder. Besides, I imagine we've exhausted all the information our police friend has, so why not take your seats? I promise to entertain you. In fact, I think each and every one of you will find my talk absolutely riveting, as they say in cover copy.”
”Shall I boot him out on his a.s.s?” Max hissed in Annie's ear.
She hesitated, but, with the harsh reality of Jill's murder, Elliot's swaggering suddenly seemed terribly unimportant-and so was her scheme to call for a vote on whether to hear him. Anything had to be better than sitting around talking about Jill.