I noticed a woman in a white, sort of silky dress, wearing the required chapeau from which fell long blonde hair. I recognized her as Lord Freddie's little thing, who the Gordons had pointed out to me at the wine tasting. She was crossing the lawn, alone, so I set course and intercepted. "Good evening," I said.
She smiled. "Good evening."
"I'm John Corey."
The name obviously meant nothing to her, and she kept smiling. She said, "I'm Sondra Wells. A friend of Fredric Tobin."
"Yes, I know. We met in July at the vineyard. A wine tasting. I was with the Gordons."
Her smile dropped, and she said, "Oh, that was terrible."
"It certainly was."
"A tragedy."
"Yes. You were close to the Gordons?"
"Well…Freddie was. I liked them…but I don't know if they liked me."
"I'm sure they did. They always spoke highly of you." Actually, they never spoke of her at all.
She smiled again.
She spoke well and carried herself well as if she'd gone to school to learn how to do those things; it was all too practiced, and I could imagine Tobin sending her off someplace where she had to walk with a book on her head and recite Elizabeth Barrett Browning while sucking on a pencil.
I personally couldn't see why anyone would trade Emma Whitestone for Sondra Wells. Then again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that. I said to Ms. Wells, "Do you like boating?"
"No, I don't. Fredric seems to enjoy it."
"I have a place on the water west of here. I love to boat."
"How nice."
"In fact, I'm sure I saw Mr. Tobin… let's see, last Monday, about cocktail time, I guess, in his little Whaler. I thought I saw you with him."
She thought a moment, then said, "Oh… Monday… I was in Manhattan all day. Fredric had a car and driver take me and the housekeeper to the city, and I spent the day shopping."
I saw her little brain working and a frown passed over her lips. She asked me, "You saw Fredric in the Whaler with a… another person?"
"Perhaps it wasn't him, or if it was, he may have been alone, or perhaps with a man…"
She frowned again.
I love to stir up the shit. Beyond that, I had now placed Ms. Wells and the housekeeper in Manhattan at the time of the murders. How convenient. I asked her, "Do you share Fredric's interests in local history and archaeology?"
She replied, "No, I don't. And I'm glad he's given it up. Of all the hobbies a man can have, why that one?"
"It might have had something to do with the Peconic Historical Society's archivist."
She gave me a very cool look, indeed, and would surely have walked away, except that Fredric himself popped up and said to Ms. Wells, "May I steal you a moment? The Fishers want to say hello." Fredric looked at me and said, "You'll excuse us?"
"I guess, unless the Fishers want to say hello to me, too."
Fredric gave me an unpleasant smile, Ms. Wells gave me a frown, and off they went, leaving their boorish guest to contemplate his gauche behavior.
About 8:30 I saw Max and Beth. Max also had on a pirate hat, and Beth had a sort of silly bonnet on her head. She was wearing white slacks and a blue and white striped boat top. She looked different. I walked over to them at the long buffet. Max was stuffing his face with a plate of pigs in the blanket, my very favorite. We exchanged greetings, and I stole one of his hot dogs.
Beth said, "Nice evening. Thank you for suggesting I come."
"You never know what you can learn by listening."
Max said to me, "Beth briefed me on the Suffolk PD's progress so far. She did a lot of work in the last four days."
I glanced at Beth to see if she'd said anything to Max about her visit to my house. Beth shook her head slightly.
Max said to me, "Thanks again for your help."
"No problem. Don't hesitate to call again."
Max said to me, "You never returned any of my phone calls."
"No, and I never will."
"I don't think you have any reason to be angry."
"No? Try reversing the situation, Max." I added, "I should have kicked you off my porch."
Max replied, "Well… I apologize if I caused you any inconvenience."
"Yeah. Thanks."
Beth interjected and said to Max, "John is in some trouble with his bosses because he helped you."
Max said again, "Sorry. I'll make a few calls, if you tell me who to call."
"No offense, Max, but they don't want to hear from a rural police chief."
Actually, I wasn't that angry with Max and even if I had been, it's hard to stay angry with Max. Basically, he's a good egg, and his only real fault is that he always looks out for Number One. Sometimes I make believe I'm angry so the other person thinks they owe me something. Like a small piece of information. I asked Max, "By the way, have there been any other deaths among Plum Island workers that have come to your attention? Say, two or three years ago?"
He thought a moment, then said, "There was a drowning accident, two years ago this summer. A guy… Dr. somebod y… a veterinarian… I think."
How'd he drown?"
"I'm trying to think… he was in his boat… right, he was night fishing or something, and when he didn't come home, his wife called us. We got the Coast Guard out, and they found his boat empty about one in the morning. The next day, he washed up from the bay there…" He cocked his head toward Shelter Island.
"Any evidence of foul play?"
"Well, there was a bump on his head, and an autopsy was done, but it appeared he'd slipped in the boat, hit his head on the gunnel, and gone overboard." Max added, "It happens." He looked at me. "Why do you ask that?"
I replied, "I promised Mr. Tobin, and so did you, Max, that we wouldn't discuss any of this at his party." I added, "I need a beer." I walked off, leaving Max with a weenie in his hand.
Beth caught up to me and said, "That was rude."
"He deserved it."
"Remember, I have to work with him."
"Then work with him." I saw my favorite server, and she saw me. She had a glass of beer on her tray and handed it to me. Beth took a glass of wine.
Beth said, "I want you to tell me about the archaeological digs, about Frednc Tobin, about everything you've found out, and all your conclusions. In return, I'll get you an official status, and you'll have all the resources of the county PD behind you. What do you say?"
"I say, keep your official status, I'm in enough trouble, and I'll tell you all I know tomorrow. Then I'm outta here."
"John, stop playing hard to get."
I didn't reply.
"Do you want me to make an official call to your boss? What's his name?"
"Chief Inspector Asshole. Don't worry about that." The band was playing "As Time Goes By," and I asked her, "Want to dance?"
"No. Can we talk?"
"Sure."
"Do you think the drowning of that other Plum Island employee is related to this case?"
"Maybe. We might never know. But I see a pattern."
"What pattern?"
"You look good in that hat."
"I want to talk about the case, John."
"Not here, and not now."
"Where and when?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tonight. You said tonight. I'll go back to your place."
"Well… I don't know if I can do that…"
"Look, John, I'm not offering to have sex with you. I just need to talk to you. Let's go to a bar or something."
"Well… I don't think we should leave together…"
"Oh… right. You're in love."
"No… well… maybe I am… in any case, this can wait until tomorrow. If I'm right about this, then our man is right over there, and he's hosting a party. If I were you, I'd keep him under loose surveillance tomorrow. Just don't spook him. Okay?"