“Shut the door and sit down, Eric. And I trust you won’t mention this to anyone else yet. Arabella, Caitlin, and Hadley should be on their way to police headquarters as we speak.”
“So who did it?” Shelby demanded.
“Apparently nobody,” I said, and watched their expressions with amusement. “Seriously, it looks as though the whole thing was a stupid accident. This is how we worked it out last night. Hadley was more or less ordered to go along with this exhibit by her publisher, because her sales were way off, along with her income. She wasn’t happy, and I gather she made life miserable for everyone, but she didn’t have a choice.” I paused before adding, “Hadley also has a taste for well-muscled young men, as Chloe informed us.”
“Do tell,” Sheryl said drily, and winked at Eric.
“Yes, and Hadley connected with one of the electricians who was working on the exhibit-the late Joe Murphy.”
“No!” Eric said. “But she didn’t kill him? Did he reject her?”
“She says she dumped him, but I wondered if she might have had a hand in his death. It seems unlikely, though-she doesn’t have the skills, and she does have a pretty good alibi. Maybe being accused of murder would have been a great way to get some publicity, but definitely the wrong kind. In any case, I think she’s used to discarding the, uh, objects of her attentions rather quickly, and nobody’s ever cried foul, before now.”
“Did Hadley volunteer all this delightful information?” Shelby asked.
“Not at first. But when Nolan went down to the basement to retrieve the Willy heads they didn’t use in the exhibit, he saw the house’s wiring and told us it was a mess-the worst combination of original old wiring combined with some recent shoddy patches and quick fixes. Apparently Hadley asked Joe to do a little work for her, and he did a lousy job. Which led us all to conclude that it was his sloppy work on the Willy the Weasel head that killed him.”
“Wait, I don’t understand,” Eric said. “What did Hadley know about this?”
“That part she didn’t want to share. My take is, Hadley had a fling with Joe and got bored with him-which she did with a lot of guys, according to Chloe-and told him it was over. Apparently he wasn’t too thrilled about that. I’m guessing he tinkered with the exhibit to get back at Hadley.”
“By killing someone?”
“I don’t think that he meant to go that far-he was aiming for an accident. I think he wanted to discredit Hadley’s exhibit. He probably thought that Hadley would be the one to suffer most if there were an accident with the exhibit-the museum might pull the plug on it. I don’t know if he had anyone in mind, but it was Jason who got shocked and ended up in the hospital.”
“That wasn’t enough?” Eric asked.
“No, because there wasn’t any publicity, and that’s what he was looking for. After Arabella had everything inspected up one side and down the other, he tried again. He was probably in a hurry, and working in the dark, so the most likely scenario is that he screwed it up and it killed him.”
“Wow,” Shelby said. “So Hadley didn’t know anything about all this?”
“So she says,” I replied. “Once she’d sent Joe on his way, she didn’t give him another thought-she had no idea how he felt. She is possibly the most self-centered woman I have ever met.”
“And Arabella and Caitlin had nothing to do with any of it?” Eric asked.
“I think Caitlin figured out that Hadley was involved, once she put together the time line, with Jason’s help, and that’s why she went out to her house to confront her and asked her mother to join her. Hadley was eager to blame anybody else, and Caitlin was upset about that. But instead of just Arabella, we all showed up and then we got stuck there, so we had plenty of time to work it out.” I decided to leave out the part about Caitlin’s threatening Hadley with a Taser. “After all that, there was no murder involved, just stupidity.”
“How’s Let’s Play going to come out of this? Aren’t people going to wonder what else might not have been done right?” Shelby asked.
I sighed. “It’s a problem, but there’s not much that can be done about it. But I did have an idea…”
A slow grin spread over Shelby’s face. “And that’s why you wanted to call Barney? He’s downstairs now.”
I grinned back at her. “You’ve got it. He’s been working in Philadelphia for years, and he must know plenty of people, particularly electricians. Maybe he can spread the word to his friends that the exhibit is sound? I’ll go down and see if I can find him.”
“Last I saw he was in the reading room with Felicity,” Eric said.
I stood up. “Then let’s go look for him.”
Luckily Barney was still in the reading room, at a table spread with old documents, and Felicity was leaning over his shoulder. Barney looked up when he saw us approaching, and broke into a broad grin. “You’re just in time to help me celebrate. This lady here has worked wonders and come up with just what I was looking for. Take a look!”
He pulled out a copy of an old black-and-white photograph. Shelby and I leaned over the table to look at it. “What is?” I asked.
“It’s a team photo for the 1888 Philadelphia Quakers. And that there”-he jabbed a stubby finger at a face in the back row-“that’s my great-great-grandpa. Looks just like me, or maybe I mean the other way around, don’t you think?”
I looked, and maybe he was right, if you took away about forty years from Barney and removed the great-great’s lush moustache. “I’m so happy for you, Barney. And great work, Felicity!”
“It’s my job,” she said, but I could tell she was blushing with pride. “Were you looking for us?”
“Actually I was looking for Barney,” I said. “Can I steal you away for a moment?”
“Sure,” he said, barely curious. It was interesting to see the impact that one discovery had made on him-one of the joys of research.
I led him to the small conference room under the stairs, with Shelby trailing behind. Once there, though, Shelby whispered, “Good luck,” and headed to the elevators, leaving me alone with Barney. I realized I wasn’t sure where to start, but after a beat or two, I took a deep breath and said, “Listen, Barney-didn’t you tell me you knew Joe Murphy?”
“The guy who got killed at the museum? Yeah, sure. He was in the union. Course, he was a lot younger’n me, so we didn’t exactly hang together. But I’d seen him around, worked with him on a job or two. He was a good guy.” Now he was curious.
I tried to find a way to put my next question delicately. “From what you know, do you think he was a good electrician?”
Barney waited a moment before replying, and his expression became wary. “This have something to do with his death?”
“It could,” I admitted.
His shoulders slumped. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, and he was always a help to me. But he was kind of sloppy, took too many shortcuts. I had some issues working with him on a coupla jobs. You saying that’s what happened at the museum? He messed up?”
“It may be. Proving it is up to the police. But you think it’s a real possibility?” I wasn’t looking for evidence; I was looking for corroboration for Nolan’s assessment of Joe’s skills, or lack of them.
He hesitated, then nodded. “I do. I don’t have to tell the police, do I? Because the guys in my union wouldn’t be happy about it. He was one of ours, even if he was careless sometimes, and we always covered for him.”
“No, I don’t think it will come to that. There are other sources for that information.”
“Is that what you wanted?” Barney asked.
“Actually, no. There was something else that I thought maybe you could help me with. Look, this exhibit is important to Let’s Play, and I’d hate to see people-parents with children-stay away because they’re worried it’s not safe, all because of Joe’s mistake. So I was wondering if there was some way you could spread the word among your friends and let people know the place is safe.”