This Old Murder

TWENTY-NINE

"YOU DON’T KNOW where Courtney’s body is?” Josie asked.

“Not at this minute. No. Do you?”

“No.” Josie frowned. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“The day before yesterday.”

“In the canoe?”

“Canoe? What canoe?” Bobby Valentine grabbed her shoulders. “Did you toss her in the bay, for God’s sake?”

“Let go of me!” Josie pulled back and heard the sound of her shirt ripping. “Let go!”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I-”

“He-”

“Sam, what are you doing? Stop that!” As the words slipped out, Josie realized exactly what Sam was doing. He was, to her complete amazement, punching Bobby Valentine in the nose.

“Josie, call the police,” he shouted back.

“Damn it! Would you please stop hitting me?” Bobby Valentine, the younger and clearly stronger man, pulled himself free and started slugging back.

Josie, in a panic, grabbed the first thing her hand met and threw it at the two men. There was a crash and then an incredible smell filled the air. But the fighting stopped.

Sam was leaning against one wall of the trailer, breathing heavily. Bobby Valentine stood in the middle of the floor, fists clenched, eyes flashing, and nose running. “What did you do?” he asked Josie.

“Yeah, what was that?”

The two men were looking at her as though she had done something wrong!

“I…” Josie looked down at the floor. She had broken a large bottle of some sort of smelly oil. “Bath oil?”

“Probably massage oil,” Bobby Valentine explained. “The bath oil would be in the bathroom. Courtney believed that daily massages kept her sane. At least that’s what she said. There’s a portable massage table stashed under the couch.”

“Daily massages?” Sam repeated the words as he rubbed his knuckles.

Josie thought it was time to get back to the point. “Why did you come in here and start punching?” It was so unlike Sam to do something like that.

“Why do you think? I walked in and this man was grabbing at you. Look, your shirt is in shreds! What did you expect me to do?”

Josie and Bobby Valentine both looked at her ripped sleeve. “Well, not exactly in shreds,” she said.

“You thought I was assaulting Josie?” Bobby Valentine sounded as though he could hardly believe it.

“You were grabbing her,” Sam stated stubbornly.

“He was upset. He thought I had put Courtney in a canoe and floated her out to sea,” Josie explained. Truth be told, she was thrilled. Sam had fought for her! He had been protecting her… well, her whatever!

Sam kicked a piece of broken glass across the room. “I guess this means you know Courtney is dead.” He looked up at Bobby Valentine.

“Yeah. Good thing, too, because if she was alive to see what we did to this place, she would have killed us.”

The oil was liberally splashed on both the flowered chintz armchair and couch; it was also forming a large patch on the Berber wool wall-to-wall carpeting. (Courtney had chosen these furnishings, Josie suddenly realized. They reminded her of her mother’s home.)

“It’s new and it’s something she’s always wanted. This trailer was Courtney’s pride and joy,” he continued.

Sam had been walking around, looking at everything. “It should be,” he commented. “I never thought public broadcasting paid well enough for people to afford things like this. It’s not a perk, is it?”

“A perk? You mean something that’s provided for her by the company? No way! We do everything on the cheap. The salaries are low, ridiculously low, in fact. And we survive on free work provided by our internship program.”

“Then who pays for this? Or is Courtney Castle independently wealthy?”

“It’s donated. Like the food we eat. Like the T-shirts the crew wears. Et cetera, et cetera.”

“You’re kidding!” Josie looked around. “Is stuff like this normally donated to public broadcasting people?”

“I can answer that one,” Sam said. “No. Not usually. Right?” He looked at the producer for confirmation.

“Never. At least not that I know about.”

“Who provided all this junk?” Sam asked.

“That I don’t know,” Bobby Valentine answered.

“I thought there was always on-screen credit for donated items,” Sam said.

“Sometimes. But it’s not required. We’re very careful to credit two groups of donors. First, of course, donations that are made because the donor is looking for an on-screen credit. You know, like those travel and accommodation credits you see on most of the shows on television. And we always credit anything that might look like a conflict of interest.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Well, if we use a brand-name piece of equipment during a show-a donation, right-well, we make sure the credit goes out on the air because the viewer has seen the brand name and we want to be sure that it is understood that we’re not endorsing the brand but using it because it was free.”

Sam nodded.

Josie had another question. “What about publicity? Personal publicity? When brands are mentioned, does that mean those things were paid for? Not donated?”

“No way! Do you think actresses pay for those dresses they wear to the Academy Awards? Famous people are always being given things. That’s just the way it is.”

“Who paid for this trailer?” Sam asked.

“I really don’t know. We’re not putting up a trailer company credit at the end of the shows, so it must have been a private donation, that’s all I know.”

“Could you find out?”

“I could ask around. See what the scuttlebutt is.”

“Great.”

Josie didn’t see why Sam was so interested in who paid for the trailer. They had just discovered that Bobby Valentine knew Courtney was dead. There were, it seemed to her, a lot more important and immediate concerns. “So where did you see Courtney?”

“I thought you said he knew she was dead. You mean, you don’t have a body? Again?”

“Sam, you make it sound as though I’ve somehow been negligent in losing Courtney. I keep telling you it had nothing to do with me. I left her hanging in the canoe.”

“The canoe that is… that was… in the living room, the one we did the interview next to?”

“Yeah. In fact, she was in there when you were asking all those questions.”

“How long did she hang there?” Bobby Valentine asked.

“Less than forty-eight hours as far as I know.”

“You think she was moved from someplace else after she was killed?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t say that.” Josie thought for a moment. “But I see what you’re getting at. She disappeared two days before. I suppose she was probably up there until Jill found her.”

“Jill? She’s the pretty one with the chest, isn’t she? Why was she up there?” Bobby Valentine asked his second question before Josie had time to answer-or protest-the first.

“She was figuring out a way to get the canoe down without damaging it. She was doing her job, and I don’t think-”

“If you didn’t know the body was up there, then when- and where-did you see it?” Sam asked Bobby Valentine.

“Last night. It… was here.” He pointed at the oil-soaked chair. “Just sitting there…”

Sam nodded. “Sure, rigor would have started to wear off…” he mumbled to himself. “How was she killed?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. I mean, I didn’t see any blood or anything,” Josie said.

“How was she killed?” Sam directed the same question to the producer.

“I… I think she may have been hit on the head.” Bobby Valentine started to look a bit pale and sat down in the makeup chair before he continued. “I didn’t look as closely as I should have,” he admitted, his voice a bit shaky.

“You came in here and found her. It must have been a shock,” Sam said slowly.

“Not a shock. Not at first. You see, I didn’t know she was dead. I came in after work… I wanted to check her answering machine for messages. And I didn’t turn on the light or anything. I… She was in the chair. I was surprised… thrilled… relieved to see her, I guess. And then, almost immediately, I realized she wasn’t all right. Well, that she was dead.”

“How closely did you look at her?” Josie asked, remembering how reluctant she had been to do the same thing.

“I… I moved her. I didn’t mean to. I went up to her and… I guess I touched her on the shoulder. I don’t remember exactly.”

“You were in shock,” Sam said. “It’s completely understandable. Go on.”

“Well, I think I may have pushed her a bit. Anyway, she fell over and… I saw a large lump on her temple. No blood. But it was certainly ugly.”

“I didn’t see a bump,” Josie said. “But…” She looked across the room at the wig on the exercise bike. “It could have been hidden by the wig, couldn’t it?”

“It probably was,” Bobby Valentine said. “She loved that thick wave that came across her forehead. The injury was right underneath.”

Josie nodded.

“What are you thinking?” Sam asked her.

“When she was up in the canoe, one of the things I noticed was that she was made-up and her hair was in perfect order. Maybe that was to disguise the injury. Do you think that’s possible?”

“Well, whether that was the motivation or not, it seems to have been one of the end results. None of you touched her when she was up there?”

“I don’t think so,” Josie answered. “No one said they had. And it was a little creepy.”

“What did you do, run tours?” Bobby Valentine must have realized how he sounded. “Sorry, I’m a bit upset.”

“Not surprising,” Sam said.

“Everyone on the crew did look up there,” she explained. “But I don’t think anyone touched her.”

“Let’s go back to when you discovered the body here,” Sam asked Bobby Valentine. “After you found out that Courtney was dead, what did you do?”

The producer snorted. “I headed for the nearest bar and got drunk.”

Sam frowned. “You went down to Gallagher’s?”

“If that’s the name of the fake Irish place down by the fiveand-dime, the answer is yes.”

“Good description. It’s owned by a man named Smith. He calls it Gallagher’s because he wanted people to think of it as that friendly little Irish place on the corner, but the name is the only good thing about it,” Sam commented.

“Yeah. He serves off-price brands while claiming they’re top-shelf. But it did the trick. I was plastered.”

“And when did you return here?” Sam asked.

“I came back this morning. And she was gone.” Bobby Valentine put his head in his hands. “I was hung over. For a moment, I wondered if I was going mad. If I had imagined the entire thing. That was wishful thinking, I guess.”

“There was no sign of her here this morning?” Sam asked.

“None.”

“What about the wig?” Josie asked.

“What wig?”

Josie pointed. “That one.”

They all stared at the blond wig, which was still, despite the fight, sitting on the exercise bike.

“It wasn’t there this morning,” Bobby said.

“You might not have seen it,” Sam suggested.

The other man seemed to consider the question. “I think I would have. I came in the door and I looked around. Frankly, I felt like shit. Not just the hangover, but I was terrified of seeing Courtney again. Her body, that is.” He stood up and walked over to the doorway. “I didn’t come in any farther than I needed to be to close the door behind me. And, frankly, I didn’t even look around until I had the door closed. Then… Then, frankly, I was thrilled to death that the body was gone. I told you. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought I was dreaming or seeing things. And when I realized she was really gone, I got out of here as fast as possible.”

“But you came back-” Sam started to say.

“Are you sure about the wig?” Josie asked at the same time.

“The wig. I really think I would have noticed it from here.”

“Why did you come back this evening?” Sam asked.

“Wait a second, Sam.” Josie got up and stood by Bobby Valentine’s side. “You didn’t move from this spot?” she asked.

“No. I’m sure of that.”

“And Courtney was sitting… placed… whatever in that chair last night?”

“Yes.”

Josie frowned and then walked over to the chair he had indicated.

“Why did you return here this evening?” Sam repeated his question.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About Courtney. She appeared and then disappeared. I… I wondered if she would do it again.”

“You thought she might come back?” Josie had been circling the chair and she stopped to ask the question.

“It might sound stupid, but I didn’t know why she was here in the first place.” He shrugged. “So I thought it was possible that she might come back.”

“But she didn’t.” Sam’s voice was flat.

“No. Her hair did, though.”

For one horrible moment Josie thought Bobby Valentine was going to giggle.

Then he put his head in his hands and began to cry.