“Despite what Sylvia found, Kyle may have been a suicide. And Sally may have been killed because she didn’t come forward about the alibi for Junior.”
“I’m not following, Sean,” said Harry.
“If Junior was killed only because he stole from the Battles, then once the killer found out he really hadn’t committed the burglary, that meant Junior was killed for no reason. The killer revenged himself and in his sick mind perhaps thought he was avenging Junior as well by killing Sally. He might have foregone his trademark watch and infamous serial killer indicia in her case because he was too incensed or didn’t consider her to be important enough. And he didn’t have much time to plan it. Sally only told me the truth barely seven hours before she was killed.”
“Well,” said Michelle, “her face being crushed by repeated blows after she was dead maybe fits with the theory of revenge. Someone in a rage.”
“Right. A man capable of ferocious attack and—” King froze. “Seven hours.”
“What is it, Sean?” asked Harry.
“I’m not sure,” he said at last. “What I just said about seven hours, it struck me somehow, but not the way I thought it would.” He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Sorry, probably a slightly premature senior moment.”
“What about Chip Bailey’s theory that Sally lied about being with Junior and committed or helped commit the burglary?” asked Michelle.
Harry’s eyebrows went up. “That’s an intriguing conjecture.”
“Yes, it is,” said King slowly. “And not one we can entirely discount right now, although my instincts tell me he’s wrong.”
They continued with their meal and also finished off the second bottle of wine. Afterward in the library they sipped coffee that Harry poured for them. He offered them an after-dinner cognac, but they both declined.
“I have to drive home,” said King. “The wine was plenty.”
“And I have to look after him while he drives us home,” added Michelle, smiling.
The room had grown chilly, and Michelle stood in front of the fire warming her long legs. “Dresses can be very drafty,” she said self-consciously.
Harry turned to King. “What’s your opinion of Dorothea?”
“Well, the source of the drug Eddie was given wasn’t the wine, nor did they find any of the drugs Dorothea had purchased from Kyle,” said King. “However, I checked with Sylvia. The morphine sulfate Eddie was given was a drug she kept in her pharmacy and may have been one of the drugs Kyle brought to Dorothea at the Aphrodisiac. And Dorothea has no alibi for the time Kyle was killed. She said she was at home, but Eddie didn’t see her.”
“Actually, he was out in his studio all night painting a picture of me,” said Michelle in an embarrassed tone.
King eyed her closely but said nothing.
Harry looked at her curiously for a moment and then said, “So she was buying the drugs, and she’s a possible suspect in both Battle’s and Kyle Montgomery’s deaths. She was also the person who had the best opportunity to drug Eddie, and lived very near where Sally was killed. All circumstantial obviously, but still compelling.”
“And she’s been depressed due to the financial setbacks and family issues she told us about,” said Michelle. “A troubled woman all around.”
King replied, “I don’t disagree with you, but I’m having a hard time finding her motive. She said Bobby had promised to change his will to benefit her, but he didn’t. So there goes her motive to kill him.”
“Unless she found out he hadn’t and was so furious she murdered him,” said Michelle.
Harry rose and stood next to Michelle in front of the fire. “At over seventy, one’s whole body becomes drafty regardless of the amount of clothing or the relative heat of the room,” he explained.
Returning to the discussion, he said, “There might be a third possibility. We’ve been focused on what was taken from Remmy’s closet, but what was stolen from Bobby’s closet?”
They both stared at him but said nothing.
Harry continued. “The will that left everything to Remmy is the one that’s being used by the lawyers. It was drawn up many years ago.”
“How do you know that?” asked Michelle.
“The lawyer who drafted it was a former clerk of mine, currently a partner at a firm in Charlottesville. They had the original, and that’s the will that’s being probated.”
“Did anyone look for another, more recent will?” asked King.
“That’s the point. I don’t think so. But what if a later will was the thing stolen from Bobby’s closet during the burglary?”
King said, “But if it was in Bobby’s secret compartment, which Remmy told us she was unaware of, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to destroy it.”
“I’m not saying it was Remmy. Bobby had a stroke, he was delirious, talking gibberish at the hospital, so I heard,” said Harry.
“And maybe he mentioned another will,” said King, snapping his fingers.
“So anyone who heard him could have committed the burglary,” said Harry.
“If Dorothea had it, though, she would have made it public, wouldn’t she?”
“But there’d be the little matter of where it came from,” said Harry. “I don’t think she would want to confess to burglary.”
King looked puzzled. “But, Harry, we’re overlooking something. Bobby’s death was well publicized. Whoever drew up the new will would have come forward.”
“Maybe he didn’t use a law firm to draft it.”
“If he did it himself, he’d still need witnesses.”
“Not if it were a holographic will, entirely in his handwriting.”
“So if there is such a will, who has it, and why aren’t they making it public?”
“A question to which I would dearly love the answer,” remarked Harry as he finished off his snifter of cognac.
Chapter 76
King and Michelle said good night to Harry and drove off. The weather was still nice enough to keep the top down. However, Michelle tugged her wrap more tightly around her shoulders.
“I can put up the top if you want,” said King, noting her movement.
“No, the breeze feels wonderful and the air smells so good.”
“Spring in rural Virginia, can’t beat it.”
“I feel like we made some progress tonight.”
“At least we took the time to talk out different angles. That’s always helpful.”
She glanced at him with a suspicious look. “As usual you’re saying less than you know.”
He pretended to be offended by her remark; however, his smile betrayed this effort. “I’m not conceding I know anything. But I do suspect some things that I might not have mentioned.”
“Such as, partner?”
“Such as I’ve spent a wonderful evening over two fabulous bottles of wine with an attractive young woman, and all I’ve talked about is murder and mayhem.”
“You’re stalling. And mentioning the wine before mentioning me says a lot.”
“Well, I’ve known those bottles of wine longer than I’ve known you.”
“Thanks a lot, but you’re still stalling.”
The SUV hit them from behind so hard that if they hadn’t been wearing their seat belts, they both would have gone headfirst through the windshield.
“What the hell!” yelled out King as he looked in his rearview mirror. “Where did they come from?” The words were barely out of his mouth before they were rammed again. King fought the wheel, trying to keep the two-door Lexus coupe on the windy road.
Michelle kicked off her heels and pushed her bare feet against the floorboard to steady herself. Reaching into her bag, she slid out her gun, chambered a round and punched off the safety pretty much all in one smooth motion.