Hour Game

Chapter 50

Casa Battle, though very large, was very full. Long linen-covered tables had been set up on the main floor with food and drink. After filling their plates and glasses Harry had led King and Michelle to the second-floor study to talk things over.

He explained, “I don’t think we’ll be interrupted here. It’s far enough away from the food and, more important, the liquor. Death makes people especially thirsty, I’ve found.”

King looked at the antique writing desk against one wall. There were fancy writing instruments, heavy bond paper with the initials REB on them, a leather ink blotter and several old-fashioned inkwells.

“Even more than me, Remmy is a letter writer from the old school,” said Harry, who was watching King. “The lady doesn’t believe in e-mails or even typewriters. And she expects missives in kind.”

“I’m glad she has the time to communicate that way. I guess that comes with being really rich. I saw Remmy and Lulu go off together when we got here,” said King.

“Remmy has a private chamber near her bedroom on the third floor,” answered Harry. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall there.”

“I can’t imagine what Remmy said to Lulu to make an instant peace,” said Michelle. “Talk about miracles. I feel like I almost saw the Virgin Mary.”

King took a swallow of his wine and smiled appreciatively. “Valandraud of St-Emilion; Remmy didn’t hold back on the good stuff.” He looked at the older man. “I can fathom a guess about Remmy and Lulu. How about you, Harry?”

Harry adjusted his bow tie and smoothed down his hair before sampling the wine and a crab cake on a plate resting on his knees. “I believe we can take what Michelle said quite literally; in other words, she did make peace, across the board.”

“Meaning what exactly?” asked Michelle.

“That she told Lulu she doesn’t believe Junior committed the burglary and therefore isn’t going to sue for the return of the items. With the criminal prosecution dropped due to Junior’s death, the matter is officially closed.”

“I’m sure she added that she had nothing to do with Junior’s death and is deeply sorry Lulu has lost her husband as well,” commented King.

“And there was probably talk of Remmy’s setting up college funds for the Oxley children,” added Harry.

“And perhaps financial help for Lulu, to finish the house and all,” said King. “She’d already offered that to Junior when she thought he was behind the burglary. She probably felt guilty for all the trouble she’d caused them.”

Michelle stared at the two, bewildered. “You think she covered all that in a few minutes at the cemetery?”

Harry raised his wineglass in a salute of sorts. “Remmy isn’t the sort to let the grass grow under her feet. She might not always make the right decision, but when the woman acts, people know it! Not unlike a certain female investigator of my acquaintance.”

Michelle smiled at his remark and then quickly grew serious. “And Remmy’s change of heart is due to what?”

“As we said, she knows or at least believes Junior was innocent of the burglary,” said King. “In addition, there’s no way Junior could have killed Bobby. Even if he had the necessary medical knowledge, which he didn’t, he would have been hard to miss at the hospital. And I checked: he had an alibi for the time Bobby was killed.”

“So Remmy must be thinking that the murder of her husband and the theft of the things from the house are related,” said Michelle. “If Junior didn’t do one, he couldn’t have done the other.”

“Exactly,” said Harry. “Which proves he was framed.”

King looked around at the walls of books and then glanced out the window at the afternoon gloom. It had started to rain harder. He watched the drops splatter on top of the cars parked in the front motor court.

“When I followed Remmy and Lulu to Junior’s grave site, I saw another mourner there,” said King. “A very unexpected one.”

“Who?” they both exclaimed together.

“Sally Wainwright.”

“The stable hand?” Harry looked puzzled.

Michelle snapped her fingers. “Sean, that day we first spoke to Sally. You asked her if she knew Junior. She said she’d seen him around, but you noted how nervous and evasive she seemed.”

“That’s right,” said King.

“Paying last respects to a man you’d merely seen around?” mused Harry.

“I’m going to have another talk with Miss Sally,” said King.

Harry motioned them to sit down on the couch across from the fire while he stood in front of them. “Now, it seems very clear that Junior’s setup was done by someone with knowledge of criminal investigations.”

“So our next course of action?” asked Michelle.

Deferring answering her question, Harry consulted an old-fashioned pocket watch hanging on a gold chain strung across his vest.

“That’s a beautiful piece, Harry,” said Michelle.

“It belonged to my great-grandfather. Having no son of my own, I’m keeping it safe for my eldest nephew.” He fingered the heavy piece lovingly. “In this hurly-burly world it’s comforting to know one can still ascertain the time of day in the same manner as over a hundred years ago.” He snapped shut the watch’s cover and looked sharply at them. “All right,” he said, returning to Michelle’s query. “By this time everyone downstairs will have imbibed at least one and possibly two drinks. Thus, I suggest we join the tipsy masses below and observe and listen. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that our killer is in this house right now. At the very least we might gain some information that could stop any future murders.”

They adjourned their meeting and moved to the main level.