“The Frazers?” Kincaid prompted.
“The Frazers, father and daughter, arrived back from dinner in York about ten-thirty, whereupon they both went to bed.”
“And Hannah and I,” Kincaid continued for him, “were walking in this garden around eleven o’clock-”
“After which you each went, alone, to your separate suites,” finished Raskin, and stretched his fingers until the knuckles popped.
“Pretty bloody useless, the whole lot,” said Kincaid in disgust. “Any of them could be lying and we’d never be the wiser. For starters, I don’t think Angela Frazer has a clue whether her dad was in the suite or not. They had a terrible row on the way home and she locked herself in the bathroom. Went to sleep on the tiles.”
Raskin grinned. “Your interrogation technique must be a sight better than my chief’s-he didn’t get more than sullen ‘yeses’ and ‘noes’ out of her.”
“I don’t doubt it. Peter,” said Kincaid, feeling his way cautiously, “I paid a call on Sebastian’s mum.” Raskin merely raised his eyebrows. “I had a look at his room. He kept files on the timeshare owners, some of them potentially damaging.”
Both Raskin’s eyebrows shot up this time. “Nash’ll have you on a platter, sir. Since the lab work came back he’s sent a team round there-he’ll likely have a stroke when he finds out you’ve been there before him.”
Kincaid grinned a little guiltily. “It wasn’t premeditated. I’ve since repented and pulled a few strings to smooth your chief’s ruffled feathers. But it might be wise on my part to stay out of his way until things have had a chance to percolate down from the top. If Nash chews me out and then has to eat his words, it’ll make him even more difficult to deal with.”
Raskin gave him a considering look. “Scotland Yard going to be ‘helping us with our inquiries’?”
“Could be. All very politely and politically done, of course.”
“Of course,” Raskin responded, and they grinned at each other in complete understanding. “All right,” prompted Raskin, “could you tell me, sir? Just what sort of dirt did the ever-curious Mr. Wade dig up?”
Kincaid stretched out his legs and contemplated the toes of his trainers meditatively. “There were files on a number of guests who must own other weeks, but I think it would be practical to assume that we should concentrate on those who are here this week. Somehow Sebastian came across a rumor circulating in Dedham village that Emma and Penny MacKenzie helped their dear old dad to a speedier end than nature intended.” Raskin looked startled but didn’t interrupt. “He was diabetic and they administered his insulin themselves-they could have increased his dosage a bit.”
“I suppose it’s possible. I’ve heard more unlikely stories. Next prospect?”
“Graham Frazer. It seems that he’s been carrying on a very torrid affair with Cassie Whitlake-a situation that doesn’t appear to be too damaging to either of them, except that Frazer is involved in a bitter custody battle over Angela and any misconduct might provide ammunition to be used against him. Those are Sebastian’s assumptions, by the way. He was very thorough.
“He also noted a growing sense of marital discord between the Rennies. That’s all on this lot-except a note of an old drug conviction against Maureen Hunsinger.”
Raskin spluttered. “Our Lady of the Earth? I thought nothing unnatural ever passed her lips.”
Kincaid grinned at his reaction. “It’s really not too unlikely. The natural foods movement is in some ways an outgrowth of the hippie culture of the sixties and seventies, and this conviction was twenty years old. How Sebastian found out about it I can’t imagine.”
“What about the others?” Raskin asked.
“This is the first visit for Hannah Alcock and the Lyles. Maybe he hadn’t come up with anything.”
“The same is true of the MacKenzies,” Raskin reminded him.
Kincaid frowned. “That’s something to consider. I wonder how he got hold of that little story.”
“Nothing on your cousin?” Raskin’s eyebrow tilted at a wicked angle.
“No, thank god,” Kincaid said with relief. “Jack was clean as a whistle. That would have put me in a spot.”
“And who,” said Raskin deliberately, “would you put your money on as the blackmail victim?”
Kincaid didn’t answer for a moment. He gazed at the silent bulk of the house, and when he spoke it was almost inaudibly. “Oddly enough, no one. I’m not sure Sebastian was blackmailing anyone. At least not for money. It looked like he kept a file on almost every owner. Mostly harmless stuff-almost like character studies. Maybe he only wanted emotional leverage.” Kincaid rubbed his face with his palms. “I don’t know… I’m riding completely on gut reaction. I just can’t see him as an extortionist.”
“I can imagine what my chief would have to say about that. He doesn’t go in much for gut reaction. Uses his for putting away beer.”
“I’ll bet.” Kincaid laughed, feeling restored by Raskin’s easy humor. “And speaking of your chief, I think I’ll make myself scarce for the afternoon, until my Guv’nor has had a chance to drop a few stones in the pond. Otherwise Nash might just run me in. Think I’ll do a bit of hiking. I am, after all,” Kincaid said ruefully, “supposed to be on holiday.”
The sight of Emma MacKenzie on the bench above the tennis court made Kincaid detour from his course toward the back of the garden. She peered intently at the tree tops through her binoculars, her concentration undisturbed even when Kincaid sat down beside her. He waited silently, following her gaze, and after a moment he saw a flash of red. “Blast. Lost it,” said Emma, lowering the binoculars.
“What was it?”
“A male bullfinch. Common enough but don’t often see them. They’re very shy.”
“I’ve never watched birds,” Kincaid offered. “Must be interesting.”
Emma gave him a pitying look, as if at a loss to explain a lifetime passion to one who could make such an innocuous remark. “Hmmmf.” She looked away from him, her gaze drawn to the trees. “An art. You should try it.” She thrust the binoculars at him. “Take them. I’m going in for the afternoon, worst time of day.”
“I will.” Kincaid took the binoculars and lowered the strap carefully over his head. “Thanks. I thought I might climb Sutton Bank.” He hesitated, then said as neutrally as he could, “Miss MacKenzie, did you talk much with Sebastian?”
Emma had been making gathering motions, as if to rise. She paused, then settled herself more comfortably on the bench. “He seemed an intelligent boy, but difficult. Quick to take things as slights, I’d say, under all that quick, sly patter.” She was silent for a moment, considering. “He could be kind, though. He was kind to Angela Frazer. I think he saw her as some sort of fellow outcast, always on the fringe of her father’s doings. And he seemed to despise Graham Frazer. I don’t know why. He was kind to the younger children as well, thought up activities for them, things that would amuse them. He seemed comfortable with them.”
“Kind to children and animals,” Kincaid muttered, more to himself than Emma. Her spine tensed and she inhaled sharply. He could see all her barriers going up and he cursed himself for his tactlessness. “No, no, I’m not ridiculing you,” he said quickly. “I found I liked him, too, even on such short acquaintance, and rather in spite of myself. And,” he added, with an easy smile, “you’re very perceptive.”
Emma had relaxed again, but he sensed that the flow had stopped. To press her would only activate her conscience, and she would censor any inclination to indulge in ‘idle gossip’.
“What should I look for?” he asked, gesturing with the binoculars.
“You wouldn’t know a robin from a magpie, I imagine. You’d better borrow this”-she handed him a small, well-worn guidebook-“so that you will have a reference. Just be observant. I shouldn’t think that watching birds would be all that different from watching people. Oh, yes,” she said, noting his surprised glance. “You’re very practiced. A talent partly learned and partly natural, I should think. You inspire confidence in others with that air of sincere attention to every word, a little well-judged flattery. And I had better go before I say something I shouldn’t.” With that, she pushed herself off the bench and strode toward the house without a backward glance.