“Well, now you do.”
A troubled-looking Harper said, “Um, well, you have a good night.” He added, “And please don’t get shot at, or kill anybody. I want to go to sleep at a decent time tonight and not wake up until morning.”
He rolled his window back up, and Devine started to do the same with his window. But he caught himself staring at the side panel of the police cruiser. A few moments later the cruiser pulled away, but not before Devine quickly took a picture of it with his phone.
On his phone he pulled up one of the satellite photos that Jenny Silkwell had obtained. The small pyramid shape that the satellite had captured had puzzled Devine to no end. But not anymore.
Unless he was much mistaken, Devine believed it was the end of the arrow point that the eagle was clutching in its claws — the symbol of the Putnam, Maine, police department.
The car that the Palmers saw driving away from where Alex had been attacked was a cop car.
And Devine was pretty sure he knew who had been driving it.
Chapter 74
The gates to the bing mansion opened as Devine approached them. He slid past in the old truck and geared down as he went up a slight rise to the house. He could hear the ocean roaring in the rear of the property as the tide pushed closer. He looked up and saw another cluster of black clouds heading in.
He parked and got out, and used a lull in the rain to make it to the front door without getting drenched.
Guillaume answered his knock. She wore a navy blue pantsuit with tiny white pinstripes, and a white open-collared blouse. She seemed cheery and relaxed, which put Devine even more on alert.
“I thought a place this big would have a butler,” he said.
She smiled at his quip. “We run a lean operation, but we do have a maid service three times a week and someone to look after the grounds. But I like to cook. However, if I don’t, we go out or just do leftovers.”
“‘We’? You mean you and Fred?”
“Yes. Please, come in.”
She led Devine through a spacious foyer into a substantial great room with ceilings that seemed nearly high enough for him to parachute from. A roaring fire blazed away in a fireplace nearly as tall as he was. The furnishings were unique enough to suggest they had been custom-built. There seemed to have been no expense spared in both building and furnishing the place.
Devine wondered why Guillaume’s father had bothered dropping so much money on such a grand residence in a place like Putnam, Maine.
Guillaume seemed to be reading his mind because she said, “He wanted to rub their faces in it, of course.”
Devine nodded. “Okay. And what do you think about that?”
“I wouldn’t have done it. But then I didn’t have a say in the matter. Would you like a drink? I opened a nice red.”
“I’m more partial to beer if you have it.”
She got their drinks and they settled into seats in front of the fire.
“Dinner won’t be long. It’s a crockpot stew. Hearty fare on a cold, rainy night.”
“Sounds good. Will Fred will be joining us?”
“He had some things to finish up. He should be here shortly.”
“He works hard, I take it.”
“Yes, he does. Running a small business is more than a full-time job.”
“But you juggle lots of balls, too.”
“I suppose it runs in the family.”
Okay, chitchat done. Let’s get to it, thought Devine. He wanted to get back to Alex as quickly as possible.
“You wanted to talk about something?” he said. “Insights?”
She lowered her wineglass and looked alarmed that her turn on the stage had come perhaps sooner than she had expected or wanted.
“Yes, that’s right,” she began.
“Well, I’m happy to listen to whatever you can tell me that might be helpful.”
“I take it you don’t believe that Earl took his own life?”
“No, I don’t,” he said bluntly.
“Because he couldn’t have managed the chair and all?”
“You’ve been talking to Harper.”
“Actually, Wendy Fuss filled me in on your theory.”
“Harper agrees with me now. But you still think he killed himself?”
“I admit I did not take into account his physical ‘challenges’ in making my conclusion. I was looking strictly at the forensic evidence.”
“But not all the forensic evidence, because you didn’t run blood or tox screens. You just chalked it up to ‘adrenaline.’”
“I explained that to you. When suicide appears to be obvious there is no need. If he’d been fifty years younger and wasn’t found hanging, then, yes, I would have done a full postmortem.”
“So we’ll never know if he was rendered unconscious so they could string him up.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t,” she said firmly.
“So... insights?” prompted Devine, who had a feeling now that this evening was going to be a waste of time.
She set her wineglass down and seemed to steel herself. “Putnam, like many small towns, has secrets.”
“The big one is who raped Alex Silkwell.”
“I’m not talking about that, though it does involve the Silkwell family.”
An intrigued Devine took a swig of beer. “I’m listening.”
“Curtis Silkwell.”
“What about him?”
“What would you say if I told you that many here believe he is Annie Palmer’s father?”
“I’d say tell me more.”
“Curt and Valerie Palmer were attracted to each other; everyone here knew it. He was twenty years older than she at least. But she was beautiful — Annie took after her — and she caught Curt’s eye. He was quite the philanderer. But I’m sure you knew that.”
“No, I didn’t. Is there proof?”
“DNA? No. No one ever talked about doing that. But I can tell you that Curt paid for Annie’s college education out of state before she came back here. And I understand that Dak helped with the financing of her café. But when Annie was born, Curt was a congressman with plans to one day run for the Senate, which he eventually did and won.”
“So it was all hushed up?”
“Of course it was,” she said. “Those sorts of affairs always are.”
“And did Clare know?”
“She would have been blind not to. And Clare was never blind.”
“And you’re telling me this why?” asked Devine.
“I know you’re interested in Steve and Valerie Palmer’s deaths around the time that Alex was attacked.”
“And they were the ones who discovered Alex after she was raped.”
Guillaume held up four fingers. “Steve and Valerie Palmer, and Earl and Bertie Palmer. All dead. Fire, a hit-and-run, and lastly a hanging.”
“You did the autopsies on Steve and Valerie.”
“I did. And they died of smoke inhalation. That was as far as the postmortem went.”
“Meaning what?”
“Like with Earl, I did not do blood and tox screens.”
“Because it was believed to be an accident?” said Devine.
She rose and stood in front of the fire. Her tall, trim figure seemed right now to hold all sharp angles, Devine noted.
“Because I was encouraged to do the test for smoke inhalation and that was all.”
Devine rose and stood next to her, letting the heat from the fire warm his chilled bones. And he wanted to be right next to the woman when he asked his next, obvious question.
“Who encouraged you to stop at the smoke inhalation test?”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“Senator Silkwell? Why? Why would he care?”
She didn’t respond so Devine filled in the answer. “Because you’re saying he killed the Palmers? What would be his motive?”