“No! He saved me. Well, not exactly saved me,” she explained. “I had on a life vest and we weren’t that far out. I could probably have gotten back by myself.”
“We? Good heavens! You were with the bridge players, right?”
“Three of them. How did you know?”
“They stopped by when I sat down and asked how you were doing. I told them I hadn’t seen you all day long, and they said something about you having a story to tell me over dinner. I was hoping they meant that you had figured out who killed Allison.”
“And instead I’d had a kayaking accident. Sorry.”
“Are you sure it was an accident? It’s strange that the hole was in your kayak and not someone else’s.”
“I know. I thought about that. Look, where’s the pencil and paper that the waitress brought?” she asked, looking around.
“Right here under the napkins.” Jed pushed a pad with COMPASS BAY printed across the top of each sheet of paper and a pencil across the table to his wife.
“I’m going to list the possible suspects-the people who might have killed Allison, and drugged you, and assaulted Kathleen, and maybe even damaged my kayak. Then we can write down motives and… and…”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Jed asked gently. “Motive. The only person who is connected to Allison, Kathleen, you, and to me is Jerry and he’s been locked up since the day after Allison died.”
“Peggy and Frank are from Connecticut.”
“Did they know Allison?”
“Not before coming here. At least, that’s what they claim.” Susan looked up from the untouched pad of paper and looked around. “You know what’s weird?”
“Everything?”
“Yes, but look around. How did one person get away with all these things? Murder. Assaulting Kathleen. Ripping up her cottage.”
“She might have done that herself, Sue.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. But someone put a hole in my kayak. How does one person do all that in this small place without being seen?”
“Now that’s a good question,” Jed agreed, staring out at the row of cottages lining the beach.
“And the other odd thing is how chummy Allison was with everyone before we arrived.”
“Well, a single woman alone. Maybe she was just lonely.”
“Maybe, but there’s something odd about that. I know I’m missing something. It’s as though Allison thought that everyone’s opinion of her mattered a great deal.” The honeymooners walked by, smiled at Jed and Susan, and continued on.
“Good-looking couple, and funny how they look so similar from behind,” Jed said.
“Jed, they’re not important. Concentrate! We were talking about how Allison wanted everyone to like her.”
“You know, that’s sort of sad. I mean, it might have mattered if she had lived, but…”
Susan started so violently that she knocked her drink over into the appetizers.
“Susan, are you okay? What are you looking at? Was it something I said?”
“It’s something you said, and something I said, and something I saw… and I think I know who killed Allison.”
“That’s wonderful!” Jed said, sounding relieved.
“No,” she answered. “It’s not! It’s really, really awful.”
“Susan…”
“And the problem is that we need evidence. No one is going to believe us without evidence. Unless we have evidence, Jerry won’t be released.” She stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Downtown. To a bar. To get a drink.”
Jed looked down at the mess on the table. “We could just order something else here.”
“No. I do know one thing: I’m never going to find out what I need to know by asking questions here at Compass Bay.”
THIRTY-THREE
“How did you ever figure it out?”
Even in the leisurely Caribbean, everything could change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday Susan had been asking all the questions. Today she had all the answers.
Well, almost all the answers. Kathleen’s plane was landing in less than an hour, and Susan was hoping she would be able to fill in a gap or two in the story. Until then, Susan and Jed were spending the day lying in the sun on either side of Jerry Gordon, replenishing his glass of rum punch as needed and explaining to curious guests what had happened.
“I know I was lucky to be held under the embassy offices, and the view was spectacular, but I sure did miss the sun-and the alcohol-while I was there,” Jerry said, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head.
“So tell us, how did you ever figure it all out?” Ro Parker repeated her question. “Did you look for clues? What did you find? How could you possibly have guessed what really happened?”
“Better tell her. She’s been driving me nuts since word that you had discovered the murderer’s identity spread around Compass Bay last night,” Burt urged.
“Oh, you!” his wife responded. “You’re just cranky because you can’t seem to attract the waiter’s attention this morning.”
“It’s true that the standard of service has fallen off dramatically in the last twelve hours,” Veronica chimed in.
“Guess you can tell who really ran this place,” Randy spoke up. “And I have to admit I’ll really miss James. Seems to me he personified the high standard of service that kept us coming back to Compass Bay year after year.”
“Has anyone heard if they’ve found him yet?” Rose Anderson appeared on the edge of the group and asked timidly.
“First, before you start to complain about the service, before we worry about the murderer’s whereabouts, please tell us how you figured out who killed Allison McAllister,” Ro asked again.
“It was a combination of things,” Susan began. “You see, I couldn’t connect Allison to anyone else at Compass Bay. Anyone except you and Jed and me,” she continued, turning to Jerry.
“I kept thinking about that myself,” he admitted.
“Well,” Susan continued, “since I couldn’t connect Allison to anyone except us, I couldn’t figure out who might want to kill her. I also couldn’t figure out who to ask about her. All the information I had about Allison was from the guests she spoke to before we arrived. And, like all of us, she just talked about the parts of her life that she wanted to talk about. Then it occurred to me that I was actually getting a fair amount of information. Allison had talked to you all more than… well, more than anyone ordinarily would. She came here alone and I assumed that she was lonely. But then it struck me that she was saying very specific things about herself and her life, all of which connected her to the Gordons. She was obsessed with them. She even wrote a semiautobiographical novel that made her sound like a victim of her sister. According to Rose, she got a big advance for it. I guess sibling rivalry is a hot topic these days.”
“June was always kind and generous to Allison-despite the tension that existed in their relationship,” Jerry spoke up.
“Allison also made sure everyone knew about my own experience investigating murders,” Susan continued. “And that struck me as odd. I have two great kids. My husband has a great job. I live in a wonderful town. There’s a lot you could tell people about me. Why did everyone here know about my sleuthing? Frankly, I was beginning to be embarrassed about it, and then it occurred to me that Allison must have told everyone for a reason.”
“What was that?” Rose spoke up.
“She wanted me to investigate-or rather-be involved in a murder investigation at Compass Bay.” Susan looked around and suddenly felt like a teacher trying to explain the theory of relativity to a group of second-graders: Everyone’s face was blank. “Allison came here planning the murder of Kathleen Gordon,” she explained.
“What?”
“Why?”
“How do you know?”
“I know it because she, in fact, did some other fiction writing. She wrote a diary that purported to record the last month and a half of her life. A month and a half during which she continued her passionate love affair with Jerry and during which Jerry promised to get rid of his wife and marry Allison. At least that’s what it said.”