Murder Past Due

TWENTY-NINE

“Willie.” Of course, I thought. Who I had seen the day Godfrey died, scribbling away at something in the staff lounge.

Then I put another piece of the puzzle together. The misogyny of the books. Who had a reputation for it? Willie did. I remembered the conversation I had overheard the other day in Hawksworth Library. Willie didn’t like women, while Godfrey did.

Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions, but for me, that clinched it. Willie was the X who wrote the books.

And who had a powerful motive for killing Godfrey.

“Charlie.” Julia’s voice brought me back to earth. “What is it? Why are you so excited about Willie?”

I tried to restrain myself. I didn’t want to give away anything to Julia, not without talking to Kanesha Berry first.

“I can’t really say,” I told her. “But knowing that Willie was part of your group, even briefly, helps fill in some missing pieces of the puzzle.”

Julia scrutinized me for a moment, as if she were trying to read my mind. “It’s the oddest thing,” she finally said.

“What is?” I asked when she fell silent again.

“About Willie,” Julia replied. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I could have sworn I saw him at Farrington House on Tuesday.”

“You did?” This was even better—a witness to place him near the scene of the crime.

Julia nodded. “I think it was him. You know how it is, when you’re in a hurry and you catch sight of someone in the corner of your eye. I don’t think it really registered at the time who he was.” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to visualize the scene. “As I was leaving, I was aware of someone in the revolving door, entering the hotel. But I was in a hurry to get to the bank and then back to the hospital, so I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

“And it was Willie?” This put both Willie and Jordan Thompson in the hotel. I knew Jordan had seen Godfrey. The signed and dated copies of his new book were evidence of that.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure, the more I think about it,” Julia said.

If Willie was the killer, he saw Godfrey after Jordan did. According to her, she didn’t stay that long with Godfrey. Then in comes Willie with a strong grievance over Godfrey’s treatment of him. Perhaps he had wanted more money for his part of the deal, or maybe he simply was tired of the anonymity of his position and wanted recognition.

Whatever the motive, he might have become enraged by Godfrey’s attitude and struck Godfrey down on impulse.

Yes, that sounded like a believable scenario.

“When you talked to Kanesha about the writing group,” I said, “did you happen to mention that Willie was a member for a while?”

“Yes,” Julia said. “She had a picture with her. Actually an annual report from the library. I had forgotten all about that picture. Willie was there that day, I remembered, but he hid behind me. At the time I thought it was peculiar, but you know how he was in high school. Always scurrying from one place to another, trying not to be noticed.”

“So the football team wouldn’t pick on him, as I recall.” Willie’s life in high school had to have been pretty miserable. “And Godfrey was one of the worst.” How ironic that was, if I was right about Willie being X.

“Yes, he was.” Julia sighed. “He really was an out-and-out bastard a lot of the time.”

“You need to tell Kanesha that you saw Willie at the hotel that day.”

“Of course. As soon as I get the chance.” Julia glanced at her watch. “Perhaps I’d better go hurry Justin along.”

“Are you going somewhere this afternoon?” I asked.

Julia nodded. “Godfrey’s memorial service. I promised Justin I would go with him.” She gestured at my clothes. “Doesn’t look like you were planning to go.”

The moment Julia mentioned it, I realized I had forgotten all about it. I checked my watch. It was 12:32. If I hurried, I could clean up and get dressed and still make it to the service just about on time.

“I can’t believe I forgot about it,” I said, rising. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll run upstairs and get ready. I’ll see you and Justin there.” So much for lunch. But there would be food after the memorial service, I remembered.

“Good. We’ll save a spot for you, if we can. I expect a lot of people will turn out, just out of curiosity.”

“Probably so,” I said. “See you soon.” I hurried up the stairs.

I met Justin on the second floor landing. He was wearing a dark suit and looking pale but composed.

“Hello, sir,” he said. “Are you coming to the service?” He eyed my clothes with doubt.

“Yes, just running a little late,” I said. “I’ll see you there. Was Diesel with you?”

“He was,” Justin said, pausing on his way down the stairs. “But he disappeared while I was in the shower.” He hesitated, as if he was about to add something, but then he turned and continued down.

Diesel was napping on my bed, his head on one of the pillows. He opened one eye when I came in the room, regarded me for a moment, then shut it again. His tail twitched a couple of times while I took off my clothes, but after that he appeared to be sound asleep.

Just as well, I thought. The memorial service was one place I shouldn’t really take him. I hoped he would stay asleep while I got ready.

I took a very quick shower, and as I was toweling off, I reconsidered my decision not to take Diesel with me. I remembered Justin’s hesitation before he went on down the stairs. This memorial service was bound to be difficult for him, and I guessed he might have been planning to ask me to bring Diesel. Cat and young man seemed to have a special bond, and Justin needed support right now.

Diesel could come with me after all. For Justin’s sake.

I dressed quickly into one of my own dark suits. Diesel woke up when I sat on the bed to tie my shoes. “Come on, boy,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Diesel hopped off the bed and was at the door in a flash. He knew those words too well.

I glanced at my watch as I hurried down the stairs, Diesel ahead of me. It was 12:52. I would just about make it.

I had Diesel in his harness in record time, and then we headed out the door. It would be just as fast to walk to the college chapel as to drive and try to find a place to park, I reasoned.

We set off at a brisk pace, and the carillon on campus was chiming one as we approached the chapel, which was down the street from the library buildings.

Campus police were in evidence, as well as members of the sheriff’s department and the city police force. I spotted all three uniforms moving among the crowd of reports and photographers on the lawn outside the chapel. I should have realized that Godfrey’s memorial service would attract the media. As far as I knew, however, they were still unaware of my role in the case. I really owed Kanesha Berry for that.

Diesel and I weren’t the only late arrivals, though I was the only one accompanied by a cat. Diesel’s presence occasioned a few frowns, but I didn’t care. Justin mattered more than what these people thought.

A couple of reporters tried to get my attention, probably because of Diesel. I knew cameras were busy snapping shots of us as we hurried up the walk toward the front door of the chapel. One reporter with a microphone and a cameraman tried to step around the cordon the police had placed, but a campus officer quickly stepped in and forced her back behind the barrier. Diesel and I scooted into the chapel. I hoped we could avoid them again after the service.

I paused at the entrance to the sanctuary, trying to find Julia and Justin in the crowd. There were very few open seats, and the sanctuary could easily hold three hundred people. I spotted Melba Gilley and Peter Vanderkeller near the front. Willie Clark was here too, in the back row to my left. Jordan Thompson sat nearby, two rows in front of Willie. Standing in the back to my right was Kanesha Berry, dressed in a black skirt and jacket instead of her usual uniform. She saw me and acknowledged me with a brief nod.

I scanned the crowd again and finally picked out Julia and Justin about halfway down on the right in the middle of a pew. There was an empty space next to Justin, and I led Diesel toward it.

I mumbled, “Excuse me,” several times as Diesel and I made our way to the middle of the pew. One woman hissed, “Well, I never.” A vaguely familiar man with her told her to hush. “That’s the cat I told you about,” I heard him tell her in an undertone.

I flashed him a quick smile, and then I reached the empty space. I sat, and Diesel moved between Justin’s legs and stared up at him.

“Thank you,” Justin whispered to me. He bent forward and began to rub Diesel’s head. I just hoped the cat wouldn’t purr too loudly and annoy the people sitting around us.

Julia glanced down and shook her head, but smiled. She had her arm around her son’s shoulders.

The organist began playing. The service had started.

The choir sang two hymns, and the chaplain spoke briefly about Godfrey’s accomplishments and lamented a life cut short by violence. The president also spoke and said a few words about Godfrey’s generosity to the school over the years. Godfrey had always given money on condition of anonymity, and that surprised me. He always seemed to want to be the center of attention. Knowing this made me think slightly better of him.

The president introduced Godfrey’s agent, a petite blonde named Andrea Ferris, who said a few words about the effect of his death on his millions of fans around the world. She herself didn’t seem all that grief stricken, however. Perhaps she was simply putting up a brave front. The president stepped back in front of the microphone to invite everyone to move into the chapel meeting room for a reception in the dear departed’s memory.

Then it was over. It was mercifully brief, but the whole time I had been aware of the tension coming from mother and son beside me. There had been no mention of Godfrey’s recently discovered son during the service, and I imagined that both Julia and Justin were greatly relieved. The last thing they wanted right now was that kind of attention, especially with the media waiting right outside.

I remained seated with mother, son, and cat while the pews around us slowly emptied. Julia was making no move to leave, and I wondered if she planned to go home now and skip the reception.

“Are you leaving now?” I asked when most of the people around us were gone.

“No,” Julia said. “We should put in an appearance at the reception. And I want to have a word with Godfrey’s agent.”

“So do I,” I said, smiling briefly. “Shall we?” I stood.

I exited the pew, leading Diesel on his leash, and Justin and Julia followed me through the sanctuary to the meeting room behind.

Not everyone who attended the service stayed for the reception. There were only about a hundred or so people in the room, and I was thankful for that. I tended to be a bit claustrophobic when a large number of people occupied a small space, and this room wasn’t really designed to hold as many people as the sanctuary.

Mindful of my lack of lunch today, I followed Julia and Justin as they joined the line of people at the buffet table. From my place in line I could see some of the food. It appeared to be mostly cocktail party-type snacks. Not ideal, but enough. I could easily fill up on cheese and crackers and fruit. There were also deviled eggs, a staple of this kind of gathering—at least in Mississippi. I would have to watch Diesel, though, in case he decided he wanted to investigate the food. When he stood on his hind legs, he was tall enough to reach out and scoop something from the table.

We made it through the line without incident, and along with Julia and Justin I found a place to stand against the wall. While the two of them nibbled at the few things on their plates, I had to restrain myself from gobbling it down. I was hungrier than I realized.

I was chewing my last bit of cheese and cracker when Kanesha Berry approached us.

“Good afternoon.” Her voice was low, her demeanor wary.

I returned her greeting, echoed by Julia and Justin. Diesel chirped at her, and she glanced down for a moment. I could almost swear I spotted a brief smile, but when she looked up, her expression was blandly official.

“Julia has something she needs to tell you,” I said, eager to the point of rudeness. Now that the solution to the murder was so close, I really wanted to see things happen. Once Willie was arrested—for at this point I had no doubt he, as X, had the best motive for murder, and according to Julia he also had opportunity—we would all rest much easier.

Kanesha turned to Julia with an expectant look.

Julia frowned slightly. “I’m not sure this is the place,” she said.

Justin surprised us all by interrupting. “Mr. Charlie, would you mind if I took Diesel for a walk?” He had a slightly desperate look, and I wondered whether the occasion was proving too much for him.

I handed over the leash. “Sure, but why don’t you just go into the sanctuary? It should be pretty quiet in there, and I don’t think going outside right now is a good idea.”

“Yes, sir,” Justin said. “Come on, Diesel.”

I watched boy and cat make their way through the crowd. Poor kid. So much had happened to him so quickly. No wonder he wanted to find a quiet place.

“You have something to tell me?” Kanesha spoke firmly to Julia.

“I suppose so,” Julia replied with a sidelong glance at me. “During a chat with Charlie before the service, I recalled something that happened when I went to the hotel to see Godfrey.”

“I see. What was that?” Kanesha shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“It was talking about the writers’ group that brought it back to mind,” Julia said. “I remembered that, when I was leaving the hotel that day, I saw someone in the revolving door, entering as I was going out.” She paused for a moment. “It was Willie Clark. Charlie seems to think that’s significant for some reason.”

“How so?” Kanesha could have been discussing today’s weather, I thought. She didn’t seem particularly interested in Julia’s revelation.

I thought I could get her interested, however. I said, “Willie is X.”