The black book had contained, as well as the dossiers of two dozen employees, a separate sheet of paper with a code list of the dead patients. No name, just a number, with a birth date, and apparently the date he or she was secretly buried. Some had a second date when that person was given a public funeral and some other body buried. He had, when he removed the coded paper, found caught in the spine of the book one short dark hair, a hair varied in color like the hair of a dark tabby cat.
He had not sent this to the lab.
In the old cemetery, his men had found fifteen unmarked graves. They had found, as well, double burials in four of the Spanish graves where more-recent bodies had been tucked in to sleep, perhaps restlessly, beside ancient Spanish bones.
When he did the numbers on that, it looked like Adelina was raking in well over half a million a year on dead patients.
"It was with the fourth death," he said, "whatever the cause, that Adelina decided to have a funeral. By this time, the long-deceased Dorothy Martin would have been ninety-nine years old. Adelina probably decided that she'd better fake a death before Dorothy started receiving unwanted publicity for her longevity. She gave Dorothy a nice, though modest, send-off, using the body of a newly deceased Mary Dunwood. With Renet's background in the makeup department, it was no trick for her to make up the dead Mary Dunwood to look like an aged Dorothy Martin.
"Over the years," he said, "no one seemed to notice that Casa Capri always used the same funeral parlor, nor to think it unusual that the funeral director drives top-of-the-line Cadillacs which he trades in every year. Not likely anyone would have commented. No one takes a friendly view of funeral directors-people like to think of them as rip-off artists.
"For each prospect who fit Adelina's requirements-no close attachments, no close family-she kept a detailed record of any distant relative or friend, and she made copies of all their correspondence. It wasn't hard to learn to fake different people's handwriting. And she got personal information, as well, from what Teddy learned during his friendly little chats with the patients. Adelina knew more about those people than they ever imagined.
"And it wasn't hard for Renet, using her makeup and acting skills, to impersonate the dead patients. People change sufficiently as they age; five or six years can make a significant difference.
"Renet took photographs of the victims often, before they died. And she photographed herself made up like them, to compare. She made quite a study of how the patients would look as they aged; we found books outlining the changes that can occur. I'm guessing Adelina demanded that amount of commitment from Renet. Adelina is a perfectionist. She made sure, as well, that wherever Renet was living, up and down the coast, they were in touch. All Renet had to do, if she was needed, was hop on a plane. The nursing home made it known- an inviolate rule-that visitors must give twenty-four-hour notice. That patients did not like surprises, and did not liked to be disturbed during any small illness, such as a cold or an attack of asthma."
Susan and Wilma exchanged a look; Susan's dislike for the Priors was very clear. She had told Harper her suspicions about Teddy and how, the afternoon Adelina and Renet were arrested, there had been a major panic at the home. Susan said Teddy had spent maybe fifteen minutes in Adelina's office, then Adelina had left in a hurry; Teddy had wheeled to the front door, watching her drive away, then whirled his chair around, racing into the social room.
There he had confronted Susan, had wanted to know what she'd told the police, what she'd seen out in the grove, what she'd said about him.
Susan had played dumb, said she didn't know what he was talking about. She'd been terrified of him, said his eyes looked almost glazed, said she expected him to leap out of his chair and start hitting her.
Now, Harper watched Susan speculatively. He had been really distressed about Teddy's threat, thinking of Susan so vulnerable in the wheelchair. Strange, Susan was the only woman, since Millie died, who gave him that warm, totally honest, comfortable feeling, as if with Susan you could be totally yourself.
But he didn't need a woman in his life, not any more than he needed cats under his feet during an investigation.
Across from him, Wilma said, "How did the three Priors respond when you took them in for questioning?"
Max smiled. "Renet was upset, angry. And she was scared.
"Young Teddy went ballistic, threw a real tantrum- though he wasn't sufficiently out of control to abandon his wheelchair. Adelina was cool as ice, totally in charge of herself. And, of course, she already has her attorneys at work on her defense.
Mae Rose said, "Were there other murders besides Jane and Mary Nell? Or did the others die naturally?"
"Forensics is still examining the remains; there's indication that James Luther may have been a victim. With bodies that old, a murder can easily go undetected." He had to marvel at these old people. Some old folks would turn queasy at this much detail. These folks did not seem morbid in their interest, except maybe Eula Weems. They simply wanted information.
But Eula's hands fidgeted and plucked at each other. "How-how did they kill Mary Nell?"
"The way her skull was broken," Harper said, "she probably died relatively quickly. The murder weapon was a smooth, thin object, swung with force.
"One theory is that someone may have tried to smother her, and when she fought back she was hit a hard blow, possibly with the edge of a dinner plate. Such a blow would break the skull in just that way."
He would not ordinarily have discussed a case so openly, particularly when it was not yet in court, but the newspaper had got hold of most of the details; and these old folks did have a vested interest. Two of their close friends had been murdered, maybe more than two. These folks had a right to some answers when the very people who were entrusted with their well-being had betrayed them.
Dillon said, "Jane was desperate, to sew that letter in the doll praying someone would find it. And no one did, not in time."
"But we have her killers," Harper said. "And no one might ever have known, their little scheme might never have been discovered, if not for you and Mae Rose."
He thought he saw the tabby cat's expression change, a twitching of whiskers almost like a smile. But of course he was imagining that.
"The court won't let the Priors go free?" Eula said.
"No matter what happens in court, and I don't see them going free, Adelina Prior will not be back at Casa Capri, nor will Renet or Teddy. Judge Sanderson has promised that."
The home, left without management, had been placed under jurisdiction of the court and was being managed temporarily by a court-appointed chain of retirement homes. In the interest of public relations, the new manager had organized not only this little gathering today, but had announced several new policies, trying hard to counter the bad publicity and bad feelings.
He had opened the Nursing wing to patients' families and to all residents each afternoon, so they could visit those patients who felt well enough to have company. The Pet-a-Pet program would continue as a permanent part of the home's therapy, along with several other new programs, including a weekly reading of best-selling fiction by one of the local library staff and several evening classes to be presented as part of the continuing education offerings of the local college.
"Them college classes," Eula said. "Teddy talked about getting some kind of fancy schooling here, but it never happened." Eula sighed. "Teddy was all hot air." The old woman snorted. "He never did need that wheelchair. All the time, he could walk."
She half rose at the table, addressing her audience. "I bet it was Teddy dug those graves. Maybe took those poor old folks out of here, himself, in his van."