She gave him a patronizing look. “Like I just said, Agent Devine, fifteen years ago he was running for the Senate for the first time. Any hint of scandal would have derailed his campaign. Such things as adultery still counted with voters back then.”
“So someone threatened to expose his secret? Who? I suppose the Palmers, if you think he had them killed and then encouraged you to do short shrift with the postmortem. But that would have been a scandal for the Palmers too. I can’t believe Steve Palmer would have wanted his wife’s adultery known to the world. So where’s the motive for the Palmers to spill the truth to such an extent that Silkwell would feel he needed to kill them?”
“Money. Steve Palmer was a lousy businessman and a gambler to boot. He’d lose more money than he had at the Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun casinos in Connecticut.”
“So he was blackmailing Silkwell? But by then the family didn’t have any money.”
“Oh, they had some. How else could they keep paying the taxes on Jocelyn Point and keep it running? It’s not cheap. And Curt Silkwell had invested what money he did have well. Indeed, he invested in some of the industries he oversaw as a member of certain congressional committees. As luck would have it his timing was amazing in getting into investments and then out of them in the nick of time before the bottom fell out.”
“So he was trading on insider information?”
“Apparently many of them do, to this day.”
“And how did you come to know all of this?”
“I made it my business to know. And I had firsthand knowledge of part of it.”
“Right. You let someone encourage you not to do your job.”
“I’m not proud of that. But I was just starting out and these were people I looked up to. I was afraid not to do as I was asked.”
“And of course Senator Silkwell is in no position to defend himself against these accusations,” he replied.
She took the poker and nudged some embers until they flamed up. “I’m not surprised you don’t believe me. No one wants to think a war hero, a great man, could do bad things. But if I am telling the truth, does that qualify as a motive for murder, to your thinking?”
“You also mentioned Earl and Bertie Palmer?”
“Bertie spent a lot of time with Alex after she was attacked.”
“So?”
“Bertie and Earl both knew about the affair.”
“Bertie started spending time with Alex after she was attacked fifteen years ago. But Bertie was killed a few weeks ago, and Earl just days ago,” pointed out Devine. “So why wait that long? And Curt Silkwell couldn’t have been involved in either of their deaths. He’s been in a hospital for a long time.”
“But Clare hasn’t, has she? And I understand she married a very wealthy man. A man who might be able to hire certain people to do a certain job.”
“You’re very well informed.”
“I find that’s far better than being ignorant,” she retorted.
“But I’m not sure how much sense it all makes. Why would Clare, after all these years, care about an affair of her husband’s from nearly thirty years ago coming out? Particularly if he had other such trysts and now she’s remarried and put all that behind her?”
“Curt being Annie’s biological father may not be the only secret the Silkwells are covering up.”
“What else?”
She retook her seat while Devine continued to stand. “People around here have long wondered where Dak got the capital to invest in all these local businesses.”
Devine leaned against the mantel, his mind racing ahead.
Dak’s smuggling might come out after all. “You have any theories?” he asked.
“Bertie was over at Jocelyn Point a lot over the years. What if she stumbled onto his source of capital?”
“So Dak ran her over? And then killed Earl in case she had told him?”
“I’m not saying it’s true, but you have to admit, it’s a plausible theory.”
“So who shot Jenny? And then Dak? The polymer casing links them. If it was in retaliation somehow for him killing Bertie and Earl, how does Jenny tie in?”
Devine had an advantage here. He knew about the satellite images that Jenny had found showing that the Palmers had seen what Devine believed to be a cop car racing past right before they found Alex. But for that, Guillaume’s line of reasoning would be far more compelling.
“I guess it’s your job to find that out,” she replied curtly.
“Assuming there is a connection.”
“Do you have a theory tying them all together?”
Devine had known that query was coming and it confirmed for him what this whole dinner invitation was partly about. The first part had been shifting potential guilt onto the Silkwells. And the second?
A fishing expedition. Ironic in a coastal town that makes its living off lobster. And eels.
“I’ve got lots of theories, but I need proof.”
“Like you said before, I’m listening. And I can give you my expert opinion.”
I bet you can, and then you’ll run off and tell your uncle, wherever he’s hiding, which might be right here.
The front door opened and closed and Fred Bing walked in, his hair and coat wet.
She looked at him. “Why didn’t you pull into the garage, Fred?”
“My damn remote didn’t work again.” He looked at Devine. “Hey, sorry I’m late for dinner. I hope you two went ahead and ate.”
“No, we waited for you,” said Guillaume. “And I’ve been having an interesting discussion with Mr. Devine.”
Fred took a long sniff. “Well, your beef stew is calling me.”
They all went in to eat.
Guillaume only had eyes for Devine. And for his part, he was surreptitiously watching her every step of the way at the same time he was on the lookout for the hulking Benjamin Bing to jump out with a gun.
Chapter 75
The stew was excellent, and Devine watched in some amusement as Bing sopped up every drop of it with his bread before pushing back from the table. The tall man was as thin as a rail but had eaten three helpings.
The burial business must burn lots of calories.
But then he recalled that the man was also an outdoor enthusiast.
Guillaume rose and started clearing dishes, brushing off both men’s offers to help. “You two just sit here and chat. I’ll make some coffee.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
A couple of minutes of silence ensued. Bing finished his water and wiped his mouth with his napkin before running his own amused gaze around the dining room table that could easily have sat twenty.
“A little much?” offered up Devine after watching him.
“There are plenty of rooms in this house I’ve never actually been in,” replied Bing.
Devine grinned. “I’m sure.” His expression turned serious. “Hey, what else can you tell me about your uncle Ben?”
“Like what?” asked Bing.
“Just your overall impression.”
Bing sat back and played with his napkin. “Well, for starters, my grandfather was a brute. Ruthless and greedy. There, I said it and I’m not ashamed.” He smiled briefly. “The three sons were the recipients of all that. My father, Ted, and my uncle, John, were all about doing what my grandfather wanted. He wanted them to follow him into the business, so they did.”
“And Ben?”
“Wanted no part of the funeral home world or my grandfather for that matter. He joined the Army and then came back here and became a policeman. And he loved to throw that in his father’s and brothers’ faces.”