“Well, I’ll leave you two to discuss dinner,” said Peter. His attack completed, he took his bags to the kitchen.
“Did I miss something?” Daniel asked. Traces of a faint scowl lined his face, as he watched Peter’s retreating form.
“Oh, who knows,” I answered. “Just ignore him.” Changing the subject, I asked, “You mentioned dinner?”
Forcing his face into a more pleasant expression, Daniel turned to me. “Yes.” He smiled. “Dinner. How’s eight o’clock sound?”
“Perfect. Just let me check first that Aunt Winnie doesn’t need me.”
“Of course,” said Daniel, following me into the kitchen.
Daniel helped Peter and me put away the groceries. Thankfully, nothing more was said about acting or roles. In fact, not much of anything was said, as Peter had apparently gone mute. Once the groceries were put away, I went to Aunt Winnie’s room.
“Come in,” she called out in answer to my knock.
I found her at her desk, scribbling away in a tattered notebook.
“What are you doing?”
She held up her hand, signaling me to wait while she finished.
I plopped down on the bed next to Lady Catherine, who displayed her displeasure at my proximity by flicking her tail at me in a suspiciously vulgar gesture. Ignoring her, I sank back into the bed’s thick pillows and studied the room. Years ago, I read that a person’s bedroom is the best indicator of his or her personality. I had laughed because at the time I was sleeping in a depressing space with colorless walls, battered furniture, and mismatched sheets, though in hindsight that was an accurate reflection of my life then. Looking around me, I realized that this room did mirror Aunt Winnie’s personality, which was probably why I liked it so much. The walls were painted a tangy shade of sage green. The curtains were a jumbled mix of soft tangerine, crisp rose, and lime green. The furniture was simple, except for the headboard, which was an enormous wrought-iron structure that looped and intertwined halfway up the wall. Piles of books, some stacked, others just strewn about, covered every available surface. The whole effect was just like Aunt Winnie—colorful, energetic, and unconventional.
After a few minutes, she put down her pen with a satisfied air. “There,” she said, stretching her arms out in front of her. “Done.”
“What are you doing?”
“I decided to write down everything we know about the murder and the suspects,” she said. “I know it sounds silly, but if I can just get everything organized on paper, something important might jump out at me.”
“It doesn’t sound silly,” I said. “I think it’s a good idea. What do you have so far?”
She handed me the notebook. In her familiar sprawling handwriting, I read:
GERALD RAMSEY: early 60s. Wealthy. First wife died. Has one daughter, Polly, from that marriage. Married to Lauren for a few years. Disliked by most who knew him. Wanted to buy Longbourn—was that his reason for coming to New Year’s party? Reflective tape found on body suggests that his death was no random act of violence.
LAUREN RAMSEY: mid-40s. Married to Gerald. Has one child, Jamie, from previous marriage. Jamie lives in South Carolina—has special needs. Rumored to be unhappy in marriage and possibly seeking divorce. Could have been worried about prenuptial agreement. Overheard on phone New Year’s Eve with someone—lover? Is close with friend Daniel Simms—but how close?
Motive: Freedom? Money?
POLLY RAMSEY: early 20s. Single. Lives at home with Gerald and Lauren. Does not seem happy. Does not seem particularly close to Lauren. Resented her father’s control over her life but did not leave. Why? Was she too fond of the money? Applied for passport even though Gerald purportedly refused to let her attend Oxford.
Motive: Freedom? Money?
DANIEL SIMMS: late 30s. Single. Visiting Lauren Ramsey—they are old friends (?).Motive: Help Lauren out of unhappy marriage? Wants to marry Lauren himself?
JACKIE TANNER: mid-70s. Single. Recently moved to Cape with old friend Linnet Westin. Lives with her as a kind of companion. No known connection between her and Gerald. Terrible gossip—seems to know a lot about the purported relationship between Daniel and Lauren. What led to her dire straits?
Motive: none known
LINNET WESTIN: mid-70s. Widowed. Wealthy. Recently moved to Cape. Lives with old friend Jackie. Not very likable but no known connection to Gerald. Check into her husband’s past (Martin Westin)—maybe he had a connection.
Motive: none known
JOAN ANDERSON: mid-50s. Married to Henry Anderson. Visiting from New York. Claims not to know anyone here. Out with Polly in the snow on night of murder—why? Found in dining room after the murder. Claims to have been outside smoking to hide habit from Henry.
Motive: none known
HENRY ANDERSON: late 50s. Married to Joan. Second marriage. First wife died. Visiting from New York.
Motive: none known.
I handed the list back to her. “Very good,” I said with a nod. “I learned a few more things today that might be of significance.” I quickly told her that Gerald had been married not twice but three times, that his first wife had been having an affair when she died, and that Polly usually went out of town with friends for the New Year but this year she had canceled at the last minute.
“That is interesting,” Aunt Winnie said, as she added those facts to the list. “Did Lily and Pansy say anything specific about Gerald’s second wife?”
“Not really. After his first wife, Tory, died, Gerald acted oddly—he abruptly got rid of all her belongings. He married his second wife, Pamela, shortly after in the hopes of using a woman’s influence to rein in Polly.” I told Aunt Winnie the story about the bicycle and Polly’s determination to have it.
“From what Lily and Pansy said,” I continued, “Pamela wasn’t very nice, and Gerald got rid of her pretty quickly.”
“Slow down,” said Aunt Winnie as she frantically scribbled on the list. “Okay, so there could be an ex–Mrs. Ramsey out there with a bit of a grudge?”
“It’s something to consider,” I said. “So, what did you learn today? Did you get a chance to talk to Joan?”
“I did, but I didn’t learn anything new. She told me the same story she had told you, but I see what you mean. She is holding something back. I just can’t tell what.”
Aunt Winnie chewed on the end of the pen as she reread her list. A slight nagging started at the back of my head. I was missing something. “Let me see that list again.” I reached out my hand. Aunt Winnie handed it to me and I reread the information on Joan. A memory swirled and settled. “The phone call!”
“What phone call?”
“The first night I got here, Joan was just coming out of your office. Do you remember?” Aunt Winnie nodded uncomprehendingly. “She said that her cell phone was dead or something and that she had used the phone in your office to make a local call.”
“So?”
I tapped the list. “According to Joan’s statement to the police, she doesn’t know anyone here. So who was she calling?”
Aunt Winnie leaned forward and eagerly took the list from me. Over her purple-framed glasses she scanned it again. “You’re right. And she couldn’t have made a long-distance call on that phone. I have it set up for local calls only.” She pursed her lips. “Looks like this requires another chat with Mrs. Anderson.” She pushed the list away with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “We’ve found something else.”
“I’ll admit it’s a start.” She sighed. “But we have so little to go on. We need more. Jackie and Linnet have invited us to lunch tomorrow. I can’t see what they have to do with this, but if nothing else, Jackie might know something. She seems to know a lot about everything else.”
“Sounds good.” Adopting a casual tone, I added, “I may be in a position to find out a bit more tonight. Daniel has invited me out to dinner.”
She gazed at me over the rims of her glasses. “I see” was all she said.