Cold Vengeance

CHAPTER 56

Camden, Maine

THE SITE OF THE FORMER NURSING HOME had been razed and condos erected in its place, a forlorn row of empty town houses with flapping banners advertising price reductions and incentives.

Strolling into the little sales office, Pendergast found it empty and rang a bell on the counter. A haggard-looking young woman appeared from a back room, seemingly almost startled to see him. She greeted him with a professional smile.

Pendergast sloughed off the bulky jacket and smoothed down his black suit, restoring it to linear perfection. “Good morning,” he said.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, you may. I’ve been looking at real estate in the area.”

This seemed like a new idea to the saleslady. Her eyebrows rose. “Are you interested in our condominiums?”

“Yes.” Pendergast dumped the loathsome coat on a chair and settled himself down. “I’m from the South but looking for a cooler clime for my early retirement. The heat, you know.”

“I don’t know how they stand it down there,” said the woman.

“Indeed, indeed. Now, tell me what you have available.”

The woman bustled through a folder and brought out some brochures, fanning them out on the table and launching into an earnest sales pitch. “We’ve got one-, two-, and three-bedroom units, all with marble baths and top-of-the-line appliances: Sub-Zero refrigerators, Bosch dishwashers, Wolf stoves…”

As she droned on, Pendergast encouraged her with nods and approving murmurs. When she was done, he allowed her a brilliant smile. “Lovely. Only two hundred thousand for the two-bedroom? With a view of the sea?”

This elicited more talk, and Pendergast again waited for her to reach the end. Then he settled back in the chair and clasped his hands. “It somehow seems right for me to live here,” he said. “After all, my mother was a resident some years ago.”

At this the woman seemed confused. “How nice, but… well, we’ve only just opened—”

“Of course. I mean in the nursing home that was here before. The Bay Manor.”

“Oh, that,” she said. “Yes, the Bay Manor.”

“Do you recall it?”

“Sure. I grew up here. It closed down when… well, that would have been about seven, eight years ago.”

“There was a very nice aide who used to take care of my mother.” Pendergast pursed his lips. “Did you know any of the people who worked there?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Pity. She was such a lovely person. I was hoping to look her up while I was in town.” He gave the woman a rather penetrating stare. “If I could see her name, I’m sure I’d recognize it. Can you help me?”

She practically jumped at the chance. “I can certainly try. Let me make a call or two.”

“How kind of you. Meanwhile, I’ll peruse these brochures.” He flipped one open, reading assiduously and nodding with approval as she began working the phone.

Pendergast noted calls to her mother, an old teacher, and finally to a boyfriend’s mother. “Well,” the saleslady said, hanging up the phone with finality, “I did get some information. The Bay Manor was torn down years ago but I got the name of three people who worked there.” She placed a piece of paper in front of him with a smile of triumph.

“Are any of them still around?”

“The first one, Maybelle Payson. She’s still living in the area. The other two have passed away.”

“Maybelle Payson… Why, I believe that is the very person who was so kind to my mother!” Pendergast beamed at her, taking up the paper.

“And now, if you like, I’d be happy to show you the model units—”

“Delighted! When I return with my wife we shall be glad to get a tour. You’ve been most kind.” He scooped up the brochures, slipped them into his jacket, put on the puffy coat, and exited into the barbaric cold.