Fe Fi Fiddler Die Page 9

  “Who strangled Mason?” Brenda searched his face.

  “Jake pulled that long skinny tie thing from his pocket. He’s stronger than he looks.” The man paused for a moment, then continued. “We meant to strangle him and be done with it. Something about seeing Mason walk back so cockily did something to me. All his lies and cheating surged through me like water in the ocean when storms come up. He stole money from all of us and left us without anything after our hard work.”

  “You stole from people, too,” Mac pressed. “How was that different?”

  Thomas shrugged as if that part was inconsequential. “Jake gave me the tie, though I thought he could easily do the deed. He stood by in case Mason struggled and made it difficult. Once I got that tie around his neck, I yanked hard. He lost consciousness and fell to the ground. But I knew he was still breathing.”

  “Who decided to use the knife?” Mac shifted forward.

  “I had it for backup. By this time, I could tell Jake was into it all. He wanted the man to suffer, too, at that point. I handed him the knife from my pocket and he flipped it open. The blade shined in a way that seemed to take over Jake’s mind. Maybe for me, too. Jake slashed into his back first and I grabbed it from him and stabbed into his upper body. Then Jake grabbed it back when Mason opened his eyes and groaned. That look of pain and vengeful knowledge in Mason’s eyes was all it took. We knew he would identify us if it took his last dying breath. So I told Jake to do it and he punctured Mason’s neck.”

  The relish Thomas Kelly appeared to experience during the recounting of all this nauseated Brenda. It took everything in her power not to lose her last meal.

  Mac put a stop to the details. “What about the clothing you wore? How did it end up in the trash can behind the bed and breakfast?”

  Excitement drained from Thomas’s face. His eyes grew hard and reminded Brenda of steel slats. “I told you my part in it all. There is no more I will say.”

  Once Thomas was led back to his cell, Brenda hurried from the room and slammed the restroom door behind her. Mac waited in the hall for her to recoup. He told her to go with him to the break room. He poured a glass of iced tea and handed it to her.

  “I had no idea he was going to go into such gruesome detail, Brenda. You could have excused yourself when it became too much for you.”

  Brenda shook her head no. “I know that, Mac, but I felt compelled to hear everything he had to say. He could easily plead insanity the way he enjoyed telling it.”

  “I’ll have to make sure that doesn’t get accepted in the courtroom. He knew exactly what he was doing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Brenda attempted a weak smile. “I’ll be all right, Mac. At least now we know who the two murderers were. It may be one man’s word against another’s as to who dealt the final blow, but they’re both complicit here—no matter who dealt the final blow. If Thomas told him ‘do it,’ then he’s just as culpable. In any case, we can’t know for sure Thomas wasn’t the one who finally killed Mason.”

  Mac agreed with her. “I think if we ever hear the full story, Jake Smith will just as easily put that final act on Thomas Kelly.” He gazed through the window. “I bet he’ll do that if he’s truly guilty.”

  “I wonder, too, if Jake could do something like that. And, we still have the Cabots to think about. According to the detective in Santa Monica, they may be responsible for a couple who was found dead, and they’re linked to a robbery at that same address. Do you think they are directly involved in this murder? It may be that Sara Haas saw Jake and Thomas running toward the backyard.”

  “It could have been those two or the Cabots. Let’s get them in here next.”

  Mattie was chosen first for re-questioning. She walked in with a smooth demeanor and sat down primly. “How much longer is this going to go on? We have to get home.”

  Neither Brenda nor Mac answered right away. Then Mac told her there was no way to predict that. “Not unless you tell us the real truth, that is.” Mattie’s eyes flashed but she said nothing.

  “When you told us that you didn’t leave the Fiddlers Jamboree until it was over, that wasn’t true, was it?” Brenda said.

  Mattie met her eyes with defiance. “We told the truth. We shopped from the vendors and hung around until most people had left. We walked back to the bed and breakfast behind several other guests.”

  “Did you talk with any of them?” Mac asked.

  “We discovered on the first day that we didn’t have much in common with any of them and so no, we didn’t talk with them, we only talked with each other. I don’t even know if the others knew we were behind them. What difference does all of this make? We told you our whereabouts, but you can’t seem to accept that.” She smoothed one hand across the surface of the rough table. “How much longer are we going to be here?”

  “You’ll be here until we say you are released,” Mac said. “Or until you understand the gravity of your situation and come clean.” Mattie continued to say nothing, and they moved on to the next interrogation room, leaving her in the custody of another officer.

  When Drake arrived in the room, Mac and Brenda took deep breaths. His attitude was as surly as his wife’s. He paced a few steps until Mac ordered him to sit down. He repeated the same story his wife had provided. “We were down there at the park until only stragglers were left. The musicians were packing up and we got a few autographs and then came back here.”

  “Did you speak with other guests on your way back?” Brenda watched his eyes. He didn’t waver.

  “We didn’t talk to any of them. Frankly, we don’t have much in common with any of them. We talked with one another and the conversation was about our purchases.” He drummed his fingers and glanced at the locked door. “How much longer is this going to go on? We have work lined up and must get home.”

  Mac leaned back in his chair. He clasped his hands behind his head. “You’ll be released when we’re ready. In the meantime, I believe you will have visitors from the Santa Monica Police Department. It seems they’ve been searching everywhere for you and Mattie.”

  Drake’s face turned ashen. For once, he had no words to say.

  Back in his cell, Drake Cabot wished for the chance to talk with his wife. The only way that Detective Stanton from Santa Monica could know where they were would be if news of Mason Eads’ murder reached that part of the country. Their former partner continued to wreak havoc in their lives, even though he was dead. He was furious. Drake and Mattie had successfully covered their tracks after each crime and now the hated Mason once again upended their lives, this time from beyond the grave.

  Brenda sat across from Mac. It was getting toward the end of the day and they were both weary and overwhelmed with the information gathered. “Let’s take a break and have some lasagna down at the Italian restaurant. I could use a glass of wine while we’re at it.”

  Mac swung his feet off his desk and agreed. He told the chief they were going for a break and they walked down to the little bistro in downtown Sweetfern Harbor that they often visited. Decorated with quaint paintings and lit with romantic candles, it was casual enough for a quick lunch or a leisurely dinner date. They were shown a table near the window with a view of the busy sidewalk where tourists and townsfolk strolled to and fro, enjoying the fresh air. Mac sipped a beer and Brenda savored a glass of white wine.

  When Mac asked her if she wanted a second one, she laughed. “We’d better stay sober, Mac. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” She savored the rich aroma of the lasagna when it arrived on steaming plates for them both. “I have some ideas that may sound crazy to you.” She took a bite and chewed slowly.

  “I thought we were here to take a break. What is it?”

  “What if Drake and Mattie are telling the truth? What if they had nothing to do with the murder at all?”

  Mac toyed with a bite of his lasagna, winding up a string of melted cheese on his fork as he thought this through. “They are used to lining up believable stories, Bre
nda. That’s why each told the same one. Their record in Santa Monica speaks for itself. The knife may have belonged to one of them. Thomas and Jake knew about the plan.”

  “Okay, but what does Thomas Kelly have against Jake Smith? He sure threw him under the bus.”

  Mac drained the beer mug. “We know there were two people in those Tyvek suits. The DNA is what I’m counting on, Brenda. Until we have the final results, we can’t believe any of them.”

  They ordered a dish of chocolate mint gelato and thought over details of the case in a companionable silence. When Mac asked her if she was ready to go back to work, Brenda told him yes. He paid, and they walked back to the police station. Brenda found the break not much of a help after all, as she found herself dragging her feet on the return walk, reluctant to dive back into the mess of four conflicting stories.

  “Detective,” the station’s front desk clerk said, “Santa Monica called. The detective’s secretary left you an urgent message—he is on a flight and will be arriving here late tonight.”

  Mac thanked her. The desk clerk continued, “There’s also a repair shop that just reported a possible break-in and robbery of some tools, do you want me to—”

  “That will have to wait,” Mac grimaced. “For now, we have to get back to this case. I’ll assign someone to it later.” Mac told Brenda he looked forward to talking with Detective Stanton. “He could shed some light on things. I guess those pending warrants in Santa Monica are more important than I thought.”

  “He apparently knows the Cabots well. They’ve been on the run for a few years.”

  Jake Smith relaxed after his lawyer’s visit. He had no idea what story Thomas Kelly told the detective and Brenda, but he felt sure the clergyman had incriminated Jack himself in the final act of murder. It sat sour in his gut to think about it. He met the man when Jake was a teenager, and believed he was a musician and an honest traveling preacher, before the man had conned his way into the Episcopalian clergy. Once Jake suspected he was pulling a con, he tried to distance himself as much as possible. By that time, Mason had put his team together and Jake and Thomas found themselves sharing partnership in the company. Thomas had a way of drawing others in and Jake fell for it like many before him. He even started to admire the man for the way he managed to make a living effortlessly—until he learned that his easy lifestyle was funded by swindling innocent church-goers out of their hard-earned money. To Jake, the petty thievery charges in Thomas’s past had been addressed, and the company partners never took it too seriously. However, when the company began to note monetary discrepancies in the bookkeeping, Jake wondered if Thomas had anything to do with it.

  That suspicion faded, however, when Mattie and Drake sued Mason in court. Things came out that shocked all of them, except Thomas, who vowed he suspected Mason of working against them from the beginning. Jake was thoroughly confused over the matter, but when he saw his profits dwindle, he joined the others against Mason Eads and felt vindicated to see the man made to account for his acts, even if the lawsuit didn’t quite go as planned.

  Jake’s reprieve was his fiddle. He lined up as many performances with fellow musicians as he could, just to get away from the turmoil. He started to find success on the touring circuit, picking up a few awards at competitions, and finally succeeded in making plans to withdraw from the company. Then a call came from Thomas Kelly. He told Jake about the East Coast Fiddlers Jamboree he thought Jake would be interested in. It was a friendly call, for old time’s sake. At least that’s what Jake assumed.

  “It will be held in a small New England village that draws tourists year-round,” Thomas had said. “You should enter the contest, Jake. You would win for sure.”

  After several friendly conversations about the matter, Jake’s enthusiasm grew. He planned a small coastal town tour of gigs to coincide with the Jamboree. Thomas Kelly told him he planned to attend since he hadn’t lost interest in fiddling. He no longer played, but he liked the music. Jake began to feel odd only when he received a call from Mattie and Drake Cabot mentioning the event to him, too, and he told them he had signed up to compete. They told him of the historic bed and breakfast in town. Drake said they would be there at the same time. It seemed like too much of a coincidence, but Jake’s travel was already booked, and he had already paid the entrance fee to the Jamboree competition.

  “We are taking time off to enjoy the ocean,” Mattie said. “We could all stay at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. Why don’t you book there, Jake?”

  All four old partners found themselves there that weekend. The more Jake thought about things, the more he realized the other three knew in advance that Mason Eads had planned a weekend there, too. Only Jake, and possibly Mason, were left out of the loop.

  His mind churning with guilt and confusion, Jake asked to speak with Mac and Brenda again.

  He told them the story of his background with Thomas, Mattie and Drake. “I had no idea Mason was booked there until I saw him walk into the dining room that first night.” The young musician appeared troubled yet less tense. “I was shocked, if you want to know the truth. I had to concentrate on the contest, and though I hated Mason by then, I focused on the Jamboree, my fiddler friends, and the wonderful scenery that surrounds your town.”

  “Tell us again,” Mac said, “about your movements after the Jamboree performance.”

  Jake told them the same story. “I did buy white Tyvek coveralls. That part is probably what landed me in here. Thomas asked me if I had time to do that for him. He had the idea of buying a small house down near the water and wanted to tour inside but the owner still had wet paint inside. He didn’t have time to buy the coveralls himself and knew I was passing by that paint shop. I didn’t ask questions because there wasn’t time before the contest. I thought it was odd he’d want to buy a house while he was there for the weekend but figured he’d planned ahead on that. I bought the overalls and gave them to him before the Jamboree started.”

  “Why did you buy two pairs?”

  Jake grimaced. “He said he needed an extra one for his realtor. Only later did I think that was kinda weird.”

  “You were seen with Thomas, speaking in low voices,” Brenda said. “I observed that twice. What did you talk about?”

  “He asked me to buy the jumpsuit and handed me cash and told me his clothing size—then later he said he changed his mind and I should just get two of the largest sized ones. I passed close by the store on the way to the park a couple times a day anyway and didn’t mind. The other times we spoke in private…” Jake thought back. “He told me how surprised he was to see Mason here the same weekend the rest of us were. I thought it an odd coincidence and said so. Thomas seemed to be obsessed about it, kept talking about his hatred for Mason. He even said something had to be done about the man.”

  “What do you think was going on?” Brenda said.

  “I think I was conned into thinking the three of them wanted me to come here to compete in a Fiddlers Jamboree. I think they had other motives. I didn’t kill anyone. I hated Mason as much as the rest of them, but I’m not a killer. I’m so out of the loop…I wonder how I ever got myself into such company. I suppose greediness played a big part.”

  “Did your lawyer advise you to come to us?” Mac asked.

  Jake shook his head. “He has no idea I’m speaking with you, but I couldn’t sleep another night with so much garbage on my mind. I didn’t want Mason dead. He was a rotten business partner, but no one deserves to die for that. I would have been happy to have seen him in prison for the rest of his life for cheating everyone. I wish I had listened to my gut when I walked into the bed and breakfast that first day and realized all us business partners were reunited—I wish I had turned away and never returned.”

  Chapter 10

  Proof

  Mac signaled the officer to take Jake back to his cell. He and Brenda sat transfixed in their chairs.

  “Wow,” Brenda said. “That was some story. Do you believe him?”

&n
bsp; “Do you?”

  Brenda shrugged, overwhelmed. “He seems believable. He’s a naïve young guy for sure…how much longer will we have to wait for that DNA comparison?”

  Mac stood up and told her to come with him. They approached the lab just as Detective Jones emerged. “We have it, Mac. The DNA matches three people, one of which is Thomas Kelly.”

  “Great work. Is there anything that shows Jake Smith was the murderer?”

  Bryce couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. “That’s the thing. His DNA doesn’t show up anywhere. We took samples from all over the crime scene—most of it points to Thomas Kelly. Sorry, I should have brought all this to you hours and hours ago, but we had to test each and every sample.”

  Mac gritted his teeth. This was one of those times he wished Bryce had traded in thoroughness for a little old-fashioned speediness. Brenda saw Mac’s stress and thought quickly.

  “Mac, I can’t stop thinking about that other case we heard the desk clerk discussing earlier. You know, the repair shop break-in?”

  Mac gave her a quick, grateful grin and told Bryce to check on this new matter of missing tools while they continued with the murder investigation. Mac loved his son-in-law, but sometimes found him exasperating. He was in no mood to have him hanging around while they delved further into matters on this murder case. He took the report and thanked Bryce for his good work. He then called Chief Ingram, and he and Brenda met him in the chief’s office.