“What was all that about?” Jacqueline asked. “Tippy is okay, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” An’gel said. “Dickce is with her now. Benjy was with her most of the afternoon, along with Lance, and then Trey. Dickce sent Lance and Trey about their business, though.”
“Good,” Mireille said. “That was a long conversation, just to tell you that much.”
“Indeed,” An’gel replied. “Benjy had more to tell me. He had a chat with Trey and found out two very interesting things. One is that Lance evidently has a violent temper when he’s thwarted, though he seems not to remember the incidents after he has struck out at someone.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Jacqueline frowned. “But I thought he’d grown out of it. The last time I remember him doing something like that was when he attacked another child at school when he was ten years old.”
“I’m not sure it’s something one grows out of,” An’gel said. “That ties in with the second thing Benjy discovered. Trey told him he had argued with Sondra on the night she died about marrying Lance. He was determined to stop her, but she told him she wasn’t going to marry Lance after all. Instead, she was going to elope with another man. An older man. Benjy thinks it’s possible that when Sondra told Lance, he might have become enraged and struck out at her. The coroner is sure she was dead before her body was thrown off the gallery to the ground below.”
An’gel knew that last bit was rather brutal, but this was no time to be mincing words.
“Do you think Lance could have killed Sondra?” she asked. “And do you think he was behind those vicious attacks on you, Mireille?”
Mireille stared at her. “I suppose he could have killed Sondra in a fit. But he simply doesn’t have the cunning to have carried out that nasty campaign. Nor did he have the reason.”
“What is the reason?” An’gel asked.
“To intimidate me into signing over most of my income and capital to Horace,” Mireille said.
“So Horace is behind it?” An’gel said.
“No, I think he’s an unwilling party to it, however.” Mireille grimaced. “The person behind it is my lawyer, Richmond Thurston.”
“He can’t get at the money Terence left me and Sondra,” Jacqueline said, “unless he murders poor Mr. Montgomery. But he can get at Maman through Horace and then through me. He drew up Maman’s will, and he knows everything comes to me.”
“And with Mireille out of the way, he can extort the money from Horace because you would do anything to help your husband,” An’gel said.
“Yes,” Mireille said. “But what he doesn’t know is that I have now changed my will and hired a new lawyer. There’s no way he can get the money now.”
“Do you think he killed Sondra?” An’gel asked. “Is he the older man she was going to elope with, do you think?”
“Yes,” Mireille and Jacqueline said in unison.
Mireille went on, “Rich Thurston can be a very charming man, and I think he was using Sondra as his backup plan. He’s desperate for money all of a sudden.”
“Then why would he have killed Sondra?” An’gel asked. “Once they were married, he’d have had access to her money, and Mr. Montgomery would no longer be able to stop him.”
“I don’t know,” Mireille said. She got up from the divan and began to pace back and forth. “This thing has got to end. Maybe I should just go and confront Rich Thurston right now.”
“No,” An’gel said. “I wouldn’t do that.” She had the beginnings of an idea. “I think it would take more than that to put an end to his nasty schemes.” She thought for a moment. Yes, it just might work. “Okay, here’s what I think we should do.” She motioned for Mireille to resume her seat, and then she outlined her plan.
CHAPTER 36
An’gel pulled the Lexus into the parking lot behind Emile Devereux and Sons and switched off the ignition. “Remember now, we must be extremely careful not to give anything away.”
“You’ve said that at least seven times in the last fifteen minutes,” Dickce said. “My nerves are every bit as strong as yours, Sister. I won’t be the one to spill the beans.”
“All right,” An’gel said. “No more admonitions, I promise.”
“I never knew that Emile Devereux was Mireille’s first beau,” Dickce said as she stared at the sign at the back of the building.
“I didn’t either, but it explains why she took refuge in the funeral home,” An’gel said. “Even though he married another woman, he still loved her, and she trusted her safety to him and his grandson.”
“Romantic, in a way,” Dickce said as she opened the door.
An’gel forbore to comment as she opened her own door and stepped out of the car. She checked her watch. Six forty-five. Right on schedule. “Come on,” she said and started briskly up the sidewalk and around to the front door.
“Good evening, ladies,” Emile’s grandson said as he opened the door for them. He ushered them into the parlor on the left side. “If you don’t mind waiting here, we’ll be opening the doors for the viewing at seven.” He winked.
An’gel suppressed a smile. Earlier when she had explained her plan to him and his grandfather, he had agreed to play his part enthusiastically. An’gel suspected that he was happy to do something that fell outside the usual pattern of the mortuary business.
He leaned close to An’gel and whispered, “The policemen are already in place in there.” An’gel nodded, and he went back to wait by the door.
She and Dickce walked into the parlor and chose two chairs to the back of the room. They wanted to be sure the chairs closest to the door were free for others.
The waiting was going to be the most difficult part, An’gel knew. She probably should have planned their arrival for a few minutes later, but she wanted to be there with Dickce before any of the others turned up.
Farley Montgomery was the next to arrive, and An’gel introduced him to her sister.
He bowed over Dickce’s hand and murmured, “Such a grievous occasion on which to meet, Miss Ducote.”
“Yes, it is,” Dickce said sadly.
The banker nodded and moved away to sit on a sofa at the side of the room. He crossed his bony left leg over the right, folded his hands, and rested them atop the knee.
An’gel and Dickce exchanged a quick glance. “See, what did I tell you?” An’gel whispered. Dickce raised her eyebrows in response.
The door opened, and Horace and Jacqueline walked in, accompanied by Trey. Jacqueline’s eyes were red, An’gel noted when they drew close, and she held a handkerchief to her nose.
Horace nodded to acknowledge them. Trey did the same before he sat a couple of chairs down from An’gel. Jacqueline maneuvered Horace to a chair in the front row and, when they were seated, leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder.
An’gel noted her goddaughter’s behavior and approved. Jacqueline was striking the right note for the occasion.
Next came Benjy, with Lance in tow. Lance appeared confused, but Benjy had a firm grip on his arm and steered him into a seat near Jacqueline. Benjy sat next to him. A close friend of Jacqueline’s was staying with Tippy, Peanut, and Endora at Willowbank.
Right on the dot of seven, Richmond Thurston walked into the funeral home. An’gel eyed him critically. He was properly dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and a dark tie. His expression was appropriate, a polite mixture of seriousness and sadness. He advanced into the room, moving straight toward Jacqueline. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Such a sad occasion,” he said as he drew back. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” He nodded at Horace to include him.