Death In Duplicate

FOURTEEN

“ABOUT TWO DAYS BEFORE SHE DIED… BEFORE SHE WAS killed… Carolyn called me at the store; she said she needed to talk to me and asked that I come over to P.I.C.C. that evening. I didn’t suspect that anything was wrong, but I should have. She had never done that before.”

“Never asked you to come to P.I.C.C.?”

“Not without a reason. She frequently ordered books and asked me to either have them delivered or to deliver them myself. I loved talking to Carolyn so, unless it was completely impossible, I always made the trip over there myself.”

“And she knew that?”

“Yes, I’m sure she did. Anyway, she called around four-thirty-half an hour before I usually close the store-and asked me to come over sometime after six-thirty. I said yes and asked her if there was anything she needed. I often picked up things for her at the drugstore or the grocery when I was delivering books. She said no, nothing, so I ate dinner early and arrived at P.I.C.C. around six-thirty-five.”

“Did she tell you what she wanted to talk with you about?”

“No. I didn’t have a single hint what was coming.”

“Which was?”

The bookstore owner didn’t answer right away and when she did it was with a question of her own. “Are you investigating the murders at P.I.C.C.?”

Susan didn’t answer immediately and Mandy continued. “I don’t only carry books. In the summer I carry newspapers for summer people who want to keep up with what’s going on in their hometown. I recognized you from an article about the murder of the building inspector in Hancock a few years ago. There was a photo layout.”

Susan nodded. She remembered both the article (inaccurate) and the photo (was it possible that she actually looked that awful today?). “Yes, I am.”

“Why? Why not just put your mother in a different nursing home and forget about P.I.C.C.?”

“My mother is an excuse.” Susan decided to trust this woman with her secret. “I just became a grandmother-twins-and the baby nurse was here at the time of the murders. She’s wonderful, but I’m worried about what happened here.”

“You think she might hurt your grandchildren?”

“No. I’m afraid she will be accused of murdering my next-door neighbor who was stabbed to death in her kitchen two days ago.”

Mandy’s eyes widened. “You do live an interesting life, don’t you?”

“Too much so,” Susan agreed.

“Well, I don’t know about your nurse, but I’ll tell you what I do know. I’m happy to do anything that might help capture Carolyn’s killer.”

“That’s wonderful. You were telling me what happened when you went over to P.I.C.C. to see Carolyn.”

“It was an odd visit. There was an after-supper program going on. Supper is very early at P.I.C.C. It begins around five and is usually over by six. After-supper programs begin at six-thirty and take an hour or so. Sometimes there’s a late-night snack after the program-well, as late night as things get in a nursing home. Anyway, there was a pianist and a singer that night who were performing old Sinatra songs. I knew that sort of thing wouldn’t appeal to Carolyn so I avoided the living room.”

“There’s a living room at P.I.C.C.?”

“Sort of. That’s what they call the large room if you turn right when you enter the building. It’s furnished with comfortable sofas and chairs and there’s a fireplace that is sometimes turned on in the winter. It’s about as close to a living room as you can find in an institution.”

“But Carolyn wasn’t there.”

“I didn’t even bother to look. She used to say that her musical taste ran more to the baroque than the banal.” Mandy paused and took a sip of her coffee. “I’m making her sound like a snob and Carolyn was anything but. She read mystery novels as avidly as she reread Elizabeth Gaskell and Jane Austen. She adored going to art museums, but she collected Mickey Mouse watches. She played in a weekly poker game that the staff at P.I.C.C. has been holding for decades-completely outside of their officially sanctioned functions.”

“She sounds like an interesting person.”

“She was. And she had a Ph.D. in Victorian lit and had taught at one of the most respected private schools in the country for decades.”

“Brilliant and practical?”

“Yes. And the MS hadn’t affected her mind one bit. Not one bit!” Mandy repeated with emphasis.

“So when she said something, people-intelligent people who knew her-listened,” Susan concluded.

“Exactly.”

“What did she say?”

Mandy surprised her by jumping to her feet and hurrying over to the cash register. “I wrote it down. After she died, I wrote down what I could remember.”

Susan, who knew that memory could be enhanced or diminished by shock, reached out to take the sheet of yellow-lined paper Mandy offered. She looked at the document, a frown appearing on her face while she read. “It seems…” She stopped and began again. “I don’t know what to say. Did she mention any other names?”

“Not that I remember.”

“How limited was she? Could she get around on her own?”

“The MS had pretty much paralyzed her limbs and she was incredibly weak.”

“So anything she knew she had been told by someone who came to her, right?”

“Look, I’ve told you some things, but it’s really hard for me to explain what an unusual woman we’re talking about and what a moral person she was.”

“Is it possible that her mind was impaired more than you knew?”

“She had just finished reviewing a new biography of Sir Walter Scott for the New York Times. I really think she was as sharp as ever.”

Susan reread the note. It was more upsetting-and puzzling-the second time through.

“You haven’t really told me about your meeting with her,” Susan said, carefully placing the paper on the counter.

“Well, I couldn’t find her at first. She wasn’t in her room, which is what I was expecting. She usually spent her evenings in there, reading or sending e-mail.”

“She was online?”

“Yes. Not many of the residents at P.I.C.C. are, but the facility is wired for modems and Carolyn was one of the first people to take advantage of that fact. But that night she wasn’t at her computer. I figured she had decided to check out the concert and looked in the living room, and, when I didn’t find her there, I went to the library.”

“There’s a library?” P.I.C.C. was sounding better and better.

“Not really. There are a few shelves in the craft room where residents can place books they either don’t want or don’t have space for in their own rooms. Carolyn sometimes left books there. She used to say that she was trying to improve the quality of the other residents’ reading. There were usually a bunch of old Robert Ludlum books, some romances, crossword puzzle books with a few puzzles half filled out-mostly incorrectly-and a few out-of-date almanacs. I didn’t expect her to be there. It was just the next place I thought to look for her.”

“And?”

“No luck. So I did what I should have done in the beginning-I asked some of the staff if they had seen her recently. And an aide-I don’t know her name, but I’d seen her around before-told me that Carolyn had been on her way to the kitchen for some hot water for tea the last time she saw her.”

“And was she there?”

“Yes. Well, not in the kitchen. She was sitting in her wheelchair outside the kitchen door chatting with someone, a young man.”

“Did she introduce him to you? Do you know his name?”

“No, I don’t think so. At least, I don’t remember his name. He was short, had hair dyed black. He was wearing turquoise scrubs. That’s about all I remember.”

Susan glanced down at the sheet of paper again before she asked the next question. “And how did she seem?”

“Just fine. Perfectly normal. She was trying to convince the young man that he should go back to school. She was passionate about education and she was always interested in young people.” Mandy wiped a tear from her cheek, took a deep breath, and continued. “She was doing what she always did.”

“And her mood? Did she appear upset or nervous or anything like that?”

“Not right then, but later she changed. You see, we never did have a chance to really sit down and talk.”

“Why not? What happened?”

“The young man-I guess he was an aide. He was dressed like one at least. Well, he left to get her some water for tea and we waited in the hall and chatted.”

“And what exactly did she say?”

“What I wrote down. She told me that she thought someone was killing the residents of P.I.C.C.”

“And what did you say to that?”

“I was startled… well, shocked. To tell you the truth, I wondered, just for a moment, if perhaps Carolyn was losing her mind, but she was speaking calmly, explaining what she thought as she always did. It was just a passing thought. Carolyn was as sane and intelligent as you or me.”

“So tell me exactly what you remember her saying.”

“It’s what I wrote down. She said that someone had killed a resident and she thought was going to kill again.”

“And did she identify this someone?”

“She said I had to watch Mike Armstrong. That’s the name I wrote down.”

“But what you wrote down is that she told you to watch Mike Armstrong and everyone connected to him. But she didn’t say he was the killer, did she? She might have been telling you that Mike Armstrong-”

“And people connected to him.”

“Yes. And the people connected to him-that they were in danger. Is that possible?”

“I didn’t interpret it like that, but I suppose you could be right.”

“Did you tell anybody about this?”

“I told the police after Carolyn was killed.” She looked down and Susan realized she was close to crying.

“What did they say?”

The bookstore owner took a deep breath and looked up. “The officer I spoke with told me that this Mike Armstrong had disappeared and that he was the main suspect.”

“Did you realize that Mike was the young man she was speaking with when you found her?”

“No, I had no idea. Are you sure?”

“Not positive, but I think it’s likely.”

“Oh, but she liked that young man. And she wouldn’t have if she thought he was a killer. I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” Susan said honestly. “Did he say anything when he came back with the hot water?”

“Oh, he didn’t. There was some sort of problem with the alarm system. For some reason the fire alarm went off. You can probably imagine the resulting mayhem. The PA system began barking out orders: residents were to gather in the living room, the staff was to carry out a room check immediately-that sort of thing.”

“And what did you do?”

“I pushed Carolyn to the living room where all the residents had gathered. Staff members were working to keep everyone calm, but some of the people were very upset. Some wanted to leave the building and some wanted to return to their rooms for photos and things like that. Fortunately, someone came in almost immediately and explained there was nothing to worry about-it was a false alarm.”

“A false alarm or had the system malfunctioned?” Susan asked.

“I don’t remember. Is there a difference?”

“Yes. A system malfunction is completely different from someone using a cigarette lighter to set off the alarm-and, of course, to force an end to the conversation you and Carolyn were having.”