I snatched up the papers. Surely this was the clue to it all? But it wasn’t, it was exactly as Esther had said—just old papers about the bank.
Esther shot up from her chair and shoved her hand in my face.“Give those back, they’re nothing to you.”
“Still feigning innocence. You might as well confess now. Josie will prove you’re the killer with what is on those papers.” Mom looked back at me with the utmost confidence. “Won’t you, Josie?”
I barely glanced up at my mother. I was too busy trying to figure out just what it was about the papers that tugged at my memory.
The first paper was the early history of the bank. It was a photocopy of an old piece of paper where someone had scrawled in blotchy ink a timeline of the first several months. I looked up at the top to see a date. I guess that must have been a diary of some sort, written by the bank’s founder, Thomas Remington, judging by the signature at the bottom. It detailed the money he’d used to start the bank and the small building he’d rented from which to do business.
“Well?” Millie looked at me expectantly.
“I’m not sure. This is a photocopy of an old journal from when the bank was founded.” I glanced over at Esther. She seemed resigned now, sitting back in her seat, no longer trying to get the papers back. Apparently she was too dignified to run now that we were about to prove why she’d kill Madame Zenda. If only I could figure out what this paper had to do with her plan and tie it into the murder…
I handed the paper to Millie and looked at the next one. It was a list of old coins similar to the ones I’d seen at the bank display. It was also in Thomas Remington’s hand and there was quite an extensive list. The bank sold antique coins, but I doubted they would part with any of the original coins Thomas had brought. Did the coins somehow figure into the murder?
“Ha! Look at that. I guess old Thomas Remington had perfect timing.” Millie glanced up from the first paper as I handed her the second.
“Why is that?” Mom had come to stand behind Millie and was looking over her shoulder. Esther was still seated but now she was looking into her crystal ball as if mesmerized. The cats were sitting on the table watching us.
I was barely listening to Mom and Millie’s conversation, my brain busy trying to make sense of all this as I scanned the third sheet, which appeared to be an accounting of old Remington family heirlooms and their value. It was almost like a receipt.
“Well, he opened the bank the same year Jedediah Biddeford was determined to be missing in Europe. He would have been out of a job if he hadn’t done that.” Millie reached for the next sheet and I handed it over.
The final sheet was the etching of the Oyster Cove guesthouse with Jed. He was wearing the shoes with the buckle. His wife stood next to him and children and staff to the side. Now why did that keep cropping up? I looked up at Esther, our eyes locking. Suddenly I knew what Esther had been up to. We’d made a huge mistake.
Millie snatched the last piece of paper out of my hand, pointed to it and addressed Esther.“Now there! This proves you’re the killer!”
“Yeah!” Mom agreed, then frowned and looked at me. “Err… could you explain just how it does that?”
“It doesn’t—”
Thunk!
A heavy onyx bookend toppled to the floor from the second shelf of the bookcase cutting off my words. Good thing it landed on the rug, might have made a dent in the floor otherwise.
“What?” Millie wore an expression of quizzical disappointment.
Meooo!
Merooolow!
Meruuuus!
The cats screeched as they bolted into the hallway. I could hear their footsteps racing up the stairs.
Realizing they were headed to the attic, I shot out of my seat.“I know who killed Madame Zenda and it wasn’t Esther. We better hurry or there may be another murder!”
We’d reached the doorway when the lights went out, stopping us cold. That was odd, there was no storm, why would the power go out?
Of course! It was the killer. We’d left our flashlights in the kitchen. Did we have time to get them?
And that’s when we heard the scream.
Twenty-Six
The scream left no doubt that there was no time to fumble around for the flashlights we’d left in the kitchen, so we headed straight for the stairs. By now my eyes had become accustomed somewhat to the dark and the moon shining through the windows helped, not to mention the meows of the cats who were just ahead of us. Lucky thing I didn’t have to try to fit the key into the lock.Then again, if I’d locked the door like I was meant to, I supposed we wouldn’t be running up here to stop a murder.
As we rushed up the stairs, noises from above quickened our steps. The moonlight had splashed in through the windows in the main house, but windows were sparse in the attic, so it was nearly pitch black. Muffled sounds came from the very far end where I’d seen Jedediah Biddeford’s trunk.
“Ooof… Arghhh…”
Not ghostly noises this time, these were coming from a human.
Mew. Nero’s meow was soft but insistent, as if he knew it was urgent for us to move toward the sounds but that we might not want to let the killer know we were there.
I focused on the direction of the noise, I was sure it was the back corner now, but getting there was another story. The attic was full of piled up cast-offs and it was too dark for me to see the path. Taking the wrong one might be off course and I’d be too late.
I started in one direction, but then felt a cold resistance and backtracked.
“Oghhhh…”
Oh no, that didn’t sound good. We were making slow progress; a few times I’d taken a step down the wrong path but had felt an odd cold resistance blocking me and then turned around.
Meroo!Marlowe didn’t need to tell me we were almost there, I could see the dark shadow of a person moving about as if wrestling something that was on the floor below them. Then a sickening thud. “Aghshhhh…”
“Hold it right there. We have you covered!” Millie shouted from behind me.
“Look out… gaghhh… gun!” A man’s voice came from the floor. Was he warning us or was this some kind of trick?
Esther trotted up behind us catching her breath beside me.“Wait, that sounded like Victor. I thought he was the killer!”
“No, it must be Anita!” Mom said. “I knew she was up to no good.”
They were both wrong.“I’m afraid not, it’s—”
“Shut up or I’ll shoot!” a voice shouted. “It’s unfortunate you’re all here. Now I’ll need to think up a new plan.”
“Guess it’s not Anita. Is there really a gun?” Mom whispered. “Maybe they’re bluffing.”
“And what is Victor doing on the floor?” Esther asked.
“I think he’s tied up,” Mom said.
“I wish I could see.” Millie craned her neck forward beside me. “We need to surround him then someone can get him from behind.”
Millie’s idea about surrounding the killer was a good one, but now that my eyes were getting used to the low level of light, I could see that wouldn’t be possible. He was in the corner, backed up against a tall bureau that had boxes piled high. Beside that, other pieces of furniture were jammed in all the way to the walls. There would be no way to get behind there easily.
“Maybe someone should go down and get the flashlights,” Mom whispered. “I can sneak back without him noticing in the dark.”
“Quiet, all of you!” The killer waved something in the air. A gun, or was it a bluff? “Get up against those bureaus, spread out so I can see all of you. Wouldn’t do to have one of you sneaking off now.”
My mind was racing—we had to come up with a way to distract him so we could overpower him. Maybe if I got him talking, he’d get distracted and it would give me time to think. “You won’t get way with this, M—”
Zzzzpt!
The lights came on, temporarily blinding me. I blinked, trying to keep my eyes on the gun. Maybe now I could rush the killer and…