Amy Patricia Meade - Marjorie McClelland 02 - Ghost of a Chance (30 page)

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Authors: Amy Patricia Meade

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Mystery Writer - Connecticut - 1935

BOOK: Amy Patricia Meade - Marjorie McClelland 02 - Ghost of a Chance
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The dark-haired woman cleared her throat as though she were
about to speak and then shook her head violently. “I don’t know
anything, I tell you! I don’t know anything!”

Marjorie rose to her feet. “Then we’ll speak to Natalie directly.”

“You can’t! She’s sick. She was poisoned.”

“Doctor says she’s well enough to speak,” Logan interjected.

“I won’t let you! She’s my daughter!”

“She’s over eighteen,” Jameson pointed out. “We don’t need your
permission. Besides, you have some explaining to do yourself.”

“Me? What do you mean?”

“I mean that you were in Ridgebury the day of your husband’s
murder.”

“What! That’s ridiculous! How did-?”

“The ticket agent at the bus depot remembers selling a roundtrip fare to Ridgebury to a woman fitting your description. She was
nervous, fidgety, and she asked if the bus would get her to Ridgebury before eleven in the morning.”

“You have no proof that was me!”

“All I have to do is show him a photo,” Jameson averred. “Hmmm … I wonder who’ll be more surprised: your daughter, when I
tell her that her mother was in Ridgebury that day, or you, when
you find out that your daughter was in Ridgebury that day as well?
Or, perhaps you both already know…”

“I-I,” Mrs. Nussbaum’s already pale face went completely white,
but she soon regained her steely composure. “I don’t think I wish to
speak with you any further, Detective Jameson. Not without a lawyer present.”

 
TWENTY-SEVEN

MARJORIE, JAMESON, LOGAN, AND Noonan left the emergency
room waiting area only to run headlong into Herbert Nussbaum.

“Going to see my sister?” he smirked.

“Yeah, now beat it, kid,” Noonan replied brusquely.

“Oh, I won’t get in your way. But, you do realize she won’t tell
you anything.”

“How can you be so certain?” Marjorie challenged.

“Because, as insipid as my sister can be at times, she’s not a complete fool. She works at a dispensary. She knows just as well as I do
that if someone meant to kill her with those chocolates, she’d be
dead right now. However, the person added only enough arsenic to
make her sick. Not enough to be lethal, but enough to scare her into
keeping quiet.” He set his jaw and nodded his head slowly, matter-
of-factly. “Which she will be, if she’s as smart as I think.”

“Are you trying to tell us something, Herbert?” Jameson urged.

Herbert shrugged. “You’re the detective. What could I possibly
know that you wouldn’t?”

“You were at the fair that day. Maybe you saw something.”

“I went for the rides and the cotton candy. Why else would a
boy my age go to a fair?”

“You think you’re somethin’ don’t ya, kid?” Noonan raised a beefy
hand in the air. “Well, I have some lessons for ya that you can’t get in
any book-”

Marjorie and Jameson quickly grabbed Noonan’s arm. Marjorie
knew well enough that they shouldn’t even be speaking to Herbert
while his mother wasn’t present, let alone using physical intimidation.

“He’s not worth it,” Jameson told his assistant. “He’s just a knowit-all punk kid.”

Noonan lowered his arm reluctantly. “I’d still like to wipe the
smirk off his face.”

The Nussbaum boy clicked his tongue. “That’s the problem with
our society-everyone tries to solve their problems with violence.”
He gave a quick smile and then retreated into the waiting area where
his mother awaited his return.

Beneath the thin hospital blanket, Natalie Nussbaum’s slender frame
looked even slighter than Marjorie had remembered. Her thick, dark
hair formed a mass of snarls against the crisp white pillowcase, and
her eyes, which had shown a spark of rebellion during their last interview, were now dull and cloudy. She looked up as they entered the
room.

“Hi, Natalie,” Marjorie spoke gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” The girl searched among the faces of the men who had
accompanied Marjorie. “Where’s Mr. Ashcroft?”

Marjorie frowned slightly; every woman who met him-young
or old, fat or thin-was bowled over by Creighton’s wit and charm.
Why would he choose her when he could have almost any female he
wanted? “He doesn’t know what happened yet. I’ll call him tonight,
after our visit with you, and perhaps he’ll see you tomorrow.”

Natalie showed a trace of a smile. “I’d like that.”

Jameson approached her bedside. “Miss Nussbaum, we need to
ask you some questions.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I figured you would.”

“The chocolates. Do you have any idea who may have sent
them?”

Natalie cast her eyes downward. “No. No idea.”

“Do you know why someone would want to poison you?”

No.

It was Jameson’s turn to sigh. “I’m going to be perfectly blunt
with you, Miss Nussbaum. I don’t believe you. We know you were
in Ridgebury the day your father was murdered.”

Natalie looked up, tears welling in her eyes.

“You took a bus from Boston to Hartford late Friday evening,
stayed overnight at a friend’s house, and then took a bus from Hartford to Ridgebury Saturday morning. We also know that your brother
and mother were in Ridgebury on Saturday as well.”

” ”
So?

“So, what were you doing there?”

“I wanted to speak with my father.”

?”
(( Y•

She blinked back her tears. “Because I hadn’t spoken with him
in months. I wanted to apologize.”

Noonan stepped in. “Apologize for what?”

“For being…” the floodgates broke open and Natalie began to
sob. “For being so angry with him.”

Noonan pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from his jacket pocket.
“Here, kid.” He handed it to the girl, who accepted it and blew her
nose softly.

Jameson jumped back in once she had regained her composure.
“When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

“Months ago. I don’t know the date.”

“So why now?”

Natalie pulled a face. “Huh?”

“Why did you want to speak to him now? Now, after all this
time?”

“I told you I wanted to apologize.”

“To apologize? Or to warn him?”

“To apologize,” she stated emphatically.

“I don’t believe you. I think you knew your father was in danger. I think you knew that your mother and brother were going to
Ridgebury. I think you went to Hartford Friday night to tell your
father and chickened out”

Natalie shook her head. “No.”

“The next morning you decided again to tell him, but he was
on his way to the fair, so you followed him and thought you’d tell
him there, but it was too late.”

Her protest became louder. “No”

“That’s why you felt guilty, wasn’t it, Natalie? Because you didn’t
warn him.”

Her answer grew louder still. “No.”

“You saw who killed your father didn’t you, Natalie? That’s why
someone sent you those chocolates, isn’t it? Because you saw who
did it.”

Natalie sat upright in bed and screamed with all her might.
“No! That’s not true! I didn’t see anyone! I couldn’t have! I couldn’t
have… ” With that statement she buried her face in Noonan’s handkerchief, her body convulsed in sobs.

 
TWENTY-EIGHT

AFTER BEING EVICTED FROM Natalie Nussbaum’s room by an irate
nurse, the foursome sat in the hospital coffee shop, discussing the
evening’s events. Marjorie hurried to a pay telephone booth to apprise Creighton of the evening’s happenings.

To her surprise, the Englishman answered the phone on the first
ring. “Hello?”

“Creighton, it’s Marjorie.”

“Hullo, Marjorie,” Creighton replied softly. There was a strained
quality to his voice, a certain sadness she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Are you all right? You sound … tired.”

I am a bit tired. It’s been a long day. What did you call about?”

“Oh, things are really picking up speed, Creighton! First, we
cracked the code on that piece of paper in Nussbaum’s pocket.”

His voice suddenly became animated. “How on earth did you
do that?”

“The Bible!” she exclaimed. “I was visiting Reverend Price this afternoon when I realized that Matt isn’t a person, but an apostle. And that so-called date at the bottom? It was a chapter and verse. Oddly
enough, the verse is about murderers being punished. Talk about
irony. But, the Bible was the key to the whole puzzle. Go figure!”

He laughed. “I suppose attending Catholic school as a girl did
have its advantages, didn’t it?”

“Yes. I’ll have to write to the nuns at St. Brigid’s to say `thank you.’
Of course, I’ll omit the fact that I write about murder and other foul
goings-on…” She punctuated the sentence with a giggle.

“There are worse things you could do for a living,” he replied
softly. “So what was the document in Nussbaum’s pocket?”

“That’s even more interesting. You may want to tell Vanessa about
this one, or maybe not-she’s bound to be upset by it. It’s a formula
for simulated rubber. It appears that Nussbaum was still on the Cullen brothers’ payroll when he went to work for Alchemy. Only problem is he wasn’t just a salesman. He was a spy. The formula belonged
to Alchemy Industries and Alfred was selling it to the Cullens for
$17,000-$7,000 up front and $10,000 upon receipt of the formula.”

“W-what?”

“I know. It’s hard to believe someone could actually steal from
someone as good as Vanessa. Just as it’s hard to believe that the
Cullen’s were so desperate, but they claim they would have spent
more in research and development than in paying Alfred Nussbaum. However, now we know who held the eleven o’clock appointment with Nussbaum. We have a confession, the money, the
whole shebang!”

“They confessed to the murder?”

“Oh no, just to industrial espionage, and hitting Reverend
Price-”

A woman’s voice interrupted. “To continue the call, please deposit five cents.”

Marjorie did as instructed.

“Five cents?” Creighton repeated. “Where in earth are you?”

“Oh, that’s right! I didn’t get up to that part yet, I’m at the hospital.”

“Good God! Are you all right? What happened to you?”

“Oh no! I haven’t been admitted. I’m peachy. I’m just visiting
Natalie Nussbaum-she’s been poisoned.”

There was a long pause.

Marjorie pushed excitedly at the disconnect buttons. “Hello?
Hello? Are you there? Creighton?”

“I’m still here,” the voice on the other end of the line replied.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, Natalie was poisoned. Is she all right?”

“She’ll be fine, but we’re convinced she knows who murdered
her father. What other reason could someone have to poison her?”

“Did you question her?”

“Yes. She wouldn’t talk. Robert confronted her about being at
the fair that day, but she denied having seen anyone. She just kept
on yelling that `she couldn’t have seen who did it.’ She said it a few
times before the nurse came in and asked us to leave. I don’t know
what to think, Creighton. Between Josie, Saporito, and the Cullen
brothers, most of our suspects are in jail. All that’s left are Bernice,
Herbert, and Natalie herself.” She laughed. “If we continue on this
path, we’ll have no suspects left! They’ll all be incarcerated in the
Boston prison system.”

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