“How did the body disappear?" Jane asked.
“Oh, Henry hid it and took Sam's clothes. He said the person who killed Sam would be so shocked at finding 'Sam' was still alive that he or she would get panicked, give himself or herself away."
“When did you find this out?" Taylor asked.
“Almost right away. Henry hid the body and came to this cabin. When he came in, I thought he was Sam. He was wearing Sam's clothes, you see. And his voice was the same. He said he had something very important to tell me. He was standing in a shadow. He said that when he got through telling me his news, he'd do anything I told him to. I had no idea what he meant. Then he stepped farther into the room and I realized he wasn't Sam.”
Shelley couldn't stand to keep quiet any longer. "Are you saying you agreed to pretend to be married to — in love with — a man you'd never seen before?”
Marge had forgotten Shelley was there and jumped at the sound of her voice. "I–I wasn't pretending," she said, tears starting to stream down her face again. "He was the Sam I'd always wanted to love. The Sam that the real Sam never had been except the first few months we were married. Henry was warm, considerate, he really talked to me. He didn't frighten me. I didn't want him to tell the police anything. I wanted—”
She stopped and they waited. Finally Shelley asked, "You wanted what, Marge?"
“I–I wanted life to just go on. I wanted Sam to stay disappeared. I wanted everybody to think Henry was Sam. I thought of the amnesia idea. In time, I could have told him everything about Sam's life. He could have become Sam. He knew about car dealerships and was good at math like Sam was. He could have stepped right into the business. We could have lived such a wonderful life if nobody ever knew."
“Is that what Henry wanted?" Taylor asked.
She shook her head miserably. "No, he wanted to see justice done to the person who had taken his brother away before they could even meet. That's what he's out there now trying to do. Please, check with your people. See if they've found him yet.”
Sheriff Taylor didn't move. "My people will tell me.”
Marge stared at him. "Oh, I think I see. Somebody else is already questioning Henry. You mean to compare what we say. That's okay. Really it is. Henry will tell the exact truth, just like I'm telling the truth. It is the truth, Sheriff. I swear it.”
Nineteen
"Do you believe that's the truth?" Shelley•asked.
The two of them were back in the dining hall of the lodge and starting to feel that it was a second home that neither of them liked very much. Eileen had come back to Marge's cabin, insisting that she belonged at her sister-in-law's side. Marge had agreed that Eileen would be a comfort to her, now that she had become calmer.
The sheriff had abruptly dismissed Jane and Shelley when Eileen entered the cabin. He asked them, quietly but in a tone that was clearly an order, to go to the lodge to wait for him and not to discuss what they'd heard with anyone else.
They had no intention of talking to anyone else and had taken a table as far as they could get from both the kitchen — from which marvelous smells were coming — and the lobby, which was nearly deserted now.
“I can't imagine if she's telling the truth," Jane replied to Shelley's question. "If she is, it's about the saddest story I've ever heard. Imagine all those years with a man who didn't care about you and made no pretense about it. At least my husband sort of loved me — until he met the bimbo. It was one big, horrible shock to find out about her, but Marge has lived with an empty heart for most of her marriage. That has to be worse."
“She could have left him, you know," Shelley said.
“Many women would have. But many wouldn't, too," Jane said. "She doesn't seem to have much self-confidence. She'd let her nursing credentials lapse, I imagine. She might have suspected that he was the kind of man who'd hire a very good lawyer and leave her penniless. She sort of hinted at that when she said she suspected him of having her spied on. Maybe she figured her life would be more awful and more empty and a lot poorer financially on her own. And she did say he wasn't usually terrible to her."
“But is that the truth?" Shelley asked. "Is any of it true? What if he was an abuser?"
“And she and his brother conspired to kill him?" Jane speculated. "Marge is obviously in love with this guy. And he is Sam's identical twin, with a lot of similar personality traits. Maybe he's just as much of a jerk as Sam was and has played on her loneliness. He stood to gain considerably. Everything Sam had, including his half of the car dealership, is now hers. She's probably a fairly wealthy widow."
“There's nothing like money to motivate people," Shelley observed.
“Do you think this is what this is about? Money?""And sex," Shelley said.
“She could be telling the absolute truth — as she knows it, or believes it," Jane said. "Because of her attraction to Sam Tw— I mean Henry. And maybe inventing bits to make him more sympathetic in her own mind. He's been observing both of them, not just his brother, it seems. Maybe he was really watching her? Trying to figure out whether he had a chance of sweeping her off her feet if Sam were dead."
“She did say she saw him at the grocery store. He must have known Sam wasn't with her then," Shelley said, nodding. "You could be right, that knowing all about her was every bit as important as knowing about Sam.”
The young man who'd set the table by the fire came back with a coffee urn.
“Yes," Jane said, "he only had to know enough about Sam to figure out how to kill him and take over his business. But he had to make Marge fall in love with him at lightning speed. And he succeeded wonderfully. I'll get us some coffee.”
When she got back to the table in the corner, Shelley was half-turned, staring out the window. It was almost entirely dark now and they could see the occasional darting beam of a flashlight in the woods between the lodge and the lake.
“We're assuming that Marge has been fooled and this Henry person killed Sam," Shelley said. "I'm not sure we should assume that yet. Suppose what she said was the truth? Who else might have killed Sam?"
“It's most often family members," Jane said. "That means John or Eileen. . or both of them."
“Why?"
“Because they're family."
“No, Jane, I mean what could their motives be? Money?"
“Would they profit from his death?" Jane wondered. "Surely Marge inherited Sam's portion of the car dealership. John might be able to juggle the figures and cheat her a bit, but she probably had a pretty good idea of what their income was before and would sense if she were being cheated." Jane thought for a moment, sipping at her coffee. "No, I'm not sure that's right. Sam was a control freak to some degree. She probably had no idea in the world how much money they had. He struck me as one of those men who balance their wives' checkbooks and make them account for every penny, without any accounting in return.”
Shelley nodded. "That would be my guess, too."
“But in that case, he probably had a will that specified some trusted accountant or banker to watch out for her interests. He's much more likely to have gone the paternalistic route."