But who was it? It might be a guest or staff member I hadn’t met. My thoughts, though, focused on our group. Not Felix — he evidently had plenty of money and very few wants. If a new biography of Alex Trebek came out, Felix might be tempted to splurge, but he could manage that without stealing from Martha. And Courtney came from a wealthy family, and Roland probably made more in a week than most people do in a year. But Courtney yearned to pursue a path her family would never support, and Roland had IRS troubles and lavish spending habits. Either might covet a hefty stack of cash. Which one had found it? Which had schemed to steal it?
There was a knock on the door, and I stepped into the hall to talk to Lieutenant Brock. “What’s going on?” he said. “I told you to sit tight, not to confront anybody — and I find you holed up with a patient. Is she the one you suspect? You trying to interrogate her all on your own?”
I shook my head. “Martha’s not the murderer, Lieutenant. She’s the intended victim. Did you find any oleander?”
“Whole bunch of it, right in the courtyard. What do you mean, intended victim?”
“I have things to tell you,” I said. “So does Martha.” I took a deep breath. “And then I think you should talk to someone named Courtney.”
“So where did Martha hide the money?” Sam asked. “The second time, I mean.”
Leah poured lemonade first for Lieutenant Brock, then for herself — Sam had made sweet tea, too, but no one seemed interested. “She hid it in a throw pillow in the Caterpillar Room. I should have known. On my first day at the center, there were two throw pillows on the couch — I mentioned that in my notes. The next day, there were three. You see, after Fred conducted his search, Martha got nervous, took a pillow to her room, and sewed the money into it while pretending to be napping during the free period. Then she put the pillow back where it belonged. I noticed that there were three pillows the next day, but the change didn’t really register. And naturally Martha chose a hiding place that let her use her sewing skills. I feel foolish about not making those connections.”
“You made plenty of connections,” Brock said. “I still haven’t figured out all of them. What made you sure it was Courtney, not Roland?”
“Several things,” Leah said. “Brian accused Courtney of sneaking into Martha’s room the night before the search and copying ideas from her recovery journal. I’m sure he was right — Courtney copied ideas from Brian’s journal, too, the next night. While she was in Martha’s room, Courtney must have looked in the recipe file.”
Sam frowned. “Why would she do that?”
“Probably because it looked so out of place. Why would anyone bring recipes to a center where all meals are provided? Felix was looking through the file, too, after Brian got sick — anybody would be curious. Anyway, Courtney saw the money, but she didn’t take it right away.”
“She took three hundred dollars,” Brock put in. “We found it under her mattress — serial numbers matched ones we had for the drug money. She probably figured that much wouldn’t be missed, and she was right. Then, after Roland came to the center, she started itching to take the rest. He told us she flirted with him, talked about going to Hollywood with him when he left the center, having him introduce her to celebrities who need personal assistants. He admitted he encouraged her, also admitted he wasn’t especially serious about it — mostly, he was thinking about getting some action to brighten up his days in rehab. Anyway, Courtney would need money to keep her going a while once she got to Hollywood. I bet that’s when Martha’s stash started looking good to her.”
“I bet you’re right,” Leah said. “So she poisoned Martha’s tea the next morning — I hope you can prove that, Lieutenant.”
“Well, when I arrested her, she said I couldn’t charge her with murdering Brian because she’d never meant to murder him; she’d meant to murder Martha, and Martha was fine. She said it wasn’t her fault that Brian drank Martha’s tea. Not the world’s strongest defense. But now her parents have her lawyered up good — I’m not holding my breath waiting for more confessions. We found a custodian who spotted her clipping oleander, though, and a vase with traces of oleander in the back of her closet — we’re getting closer. And maybe you can come up with more evidence, Mrs. Abrams.”
“Probably nothing that would stand up in court. There’s the fact that she was late to therapy on the day of the poisoning. She said she’d gotten a phone call from her mother — did you check on that?”
“Yup,” Brock said. “Her mother was getting a tummy tuck then, definitely not talking to her daughter. You figure Courtney was late because she’d been searching Martha’s room, going nuts when she realized the money was gone?”
“Yes,” Leah said. “She’d definitely want to grab the money before Martha got sick; afterwards, the room would be full of doctors and nurses, and then Fred would lock it to protect Martha’s possessions. Also, not everyone would be able to recognize oleander — I can’t. But Courtney said her mother ‘dragged’ her to garden shows for years. I bet Courtney learned a lot about plants, just by osmosis. I also bet a jury wouldn’t be impressed by that.” Leah smiled ruefully. “They probably also wouldn’t be impressed by evidence from Pirkei Avot.”
“From Pirkei Avot?” Sam said. “From Sarah’s religious school homework? That helped you realize Courtney tried to kill Martha?”
“It did. ‘Flee wrongdoing,’ Rabbi Ben Azzai says. Even minor wrongdoings are dangerous, because ‘one wrongdoing leads to another wrongdoing.’ Not that plagiarism’s a minor wrongdoing — it’s a serious academic offense — but Courtney’s spent years breaking rules and thinking only about what she wants, not about what’s right. When the temptation to commit a major wrongdoing came along, she didn’t have the character to resist.”
“Yeah, character isn’t something you develop overnight,” Brock said, “or in six easy steps. Even a sweet tooth isn’t easy to overcome quickly — Brian found that out. That reminds me. Did Courtney’s arrest get you in trouble at the center?”
Leah sighed. “Fred fired me. And he complained to my agency, saying I’m a meddler who stirs up trouble. He would have preferred to let Courtney get away with murder, I suppose, to protect the center’s reputation. Oh, well. There are other temporary agencies. And I’ve developed reservations about the Cocoon Center. I’m sure some rehab centers do fine work, but Fred’s emphasis on quick results, on avoiding unpleasantness — I’m not sure that’s the right approach. Human beings aren’t caterpillars. Retreating from the world and sealing oneself up in a safe, comfortable place for a short time isn’t necessarily the best way of transforming oneself. I wish everyone there the best, though. What about Martha? Will she go to jail for withholding evidence?”
“No chance,” Brock said. “I got no interest in charging her — she basically panicked and blundered into this. And she’s cooperating fully now.”
“I’m glad,” Leah said, “especially since I think she and Felix may have a future together. Did you notice, Lieutenant? After you arrested Courtney, when we were all in the Caterpillar Room, Felix walked over to Martha and said, ‘I hope you’re not real upset, Martha.’ And she said, ‘Thank you, Felix. I’m fine.’ ”