Death by Hitchcock (12 page)

Chapter 30

Oona Clifton opened the local newspaper, hoping for an article about the murder investigation at the college. Like everyone else in town, Oona had been following the murder of Bunny Baldwin with keen interest. Unwilling to share details other than only the most basic facts, the police had released precious little information about the case. Consequently,
The New Guilford Gazette
, with its paucity of details, did little to satisfy the public’s cravings for news about Bunny’s murder, and people were left to their own devices and imaginations––namely, rumor and innuendo.

Oona felt deeply gratified by the rumblings she had heard around town that mysterious herbs were found in Bunny’s system, and that Bunny was known to use homeopathic remedies and herbal cures. Oona smiled as she thought of Honeysuckle’s laboratory at Cake House
––where she was not allowed to set foot––and of her stall at the Farmer’s Market where she sold her own herbal concoctions. For her part, Oona did all she could to perpetuate any gossip that might suggest a link between Bunny’s death and Honeysuckle’s expert knowledge of medicinal herbs. After all, hadn’t Nedda confided in Oona about Honeysuckle’s desperate crush on Chaz Winner? And hadn’t Bunny been Chaz Winner’s girlfriend? Oona couldn’t help it if two plus two came out four. 

What to do next? Oona suddenly felt sick with worry about the idea of dragging her beloved employer into the middle of the murder investigation. Oona hated the idea of causing Professor Cake heartache and upset. Then again, surely it was Oona’s duty to do whatever she could to protect Nedda Cake. If Honeysuckle were mad enough to kill Bunny, mightn’t she kill again?

Oona sat at the kitchen table, staring into space, wondering what her course of action should be. She watched through the window as a cat stalked an unsuspecting wren on the ground near the birdfeeder. The cat pounced, and the bird didn’t have a chance. That was the natural order of things, wasn’t it? Survival of the fittest? Oona thought about how her formerly happy existence at Cake House had been grievously disrupted by the arrival of Honeysuckle. How Honeysuckle ignored Oona’s passion for neatness and organization, and mocked her authority by making the sleeping porch off limits? Worse, Honeysuckle had displaced Oona as Professor Cake’s primary companion.

Suddenly Oona’s thoughts distilled, and her mind became perfectly clear. She picked up the phone and called the police.

Chapter 31

The library at Sanborn House was a popular weekend haven for students––part socializing, part studying, even part napping. The faculty offices on the second floor, by contrast, were generally deserted. Happy for the distraction-free environment, with no reminders of household chores or laundry in need of doing, Edwina spent a quiet afternoon in her office. 

One of her colleagues in the Physics Department had a new book out that Edwina had been meaning to read. It seemed the perfect afternoon for it. She settled into a comfortable chair, put her feet on the desk, and opened the book.

She soon shut it.

The image of Will racing off in his truck that morning in pursuit of possibly vital information in the murder investigation was driving her crazy with curiosity.

I’m dying to know if Honeysuckle’s name was on the list from Hexley Auditorium the night of the murder!
she thought.

And if it isn’t, why not? That means Honeysuckle lied to the police. Who would lie to
the police if they weren’t somehow involved in Bunny’s murder?
 

She grabbed her phone and punched out a message to Will.

Any luck with that list?

Five minutes later
, an email from Will came through. The list was attached. Edwina scanned the pages of names for Honeysuckle’s, but it wasn’t there. Honeysuckle had definitely been in the auditorium the night of the murder, and the police did not allow anyone to leave without giving their contact information. Therefore, Edwina felt sure Honeysuckle was somewhere on the list, buried somehow.   

She went back to the beginning and studied the list employing various approaches, again and again. She analyzed the names, addresses, and contact numbers from different perspectives, scrutinizing them for any odd patterns or repetitions. Unusual number sequences. Names that sounded inauthentic
––pseudonyms, perhaps. Letter combinations that might contain word puzzles, or puns, or anagrams, or palindromes.  

Ravi Kapoor’s book about the mathematical universe would just have to wait.

An hour and a half later a text message rang on her phone.

Are you free tonight? 

What’s up,
she replied.

Want to come over and see the house?

Sounds great.
Edwina replied.
Pick me up at Sanborn House at 6.

Edwina left her office a few minutes before six o’clock. She waited at the top of the steps outside Sanborn House, perched on the back of one of two marble lions that guarded the entrance. Diffuse, yellow light leaked out of the handsome Georgian windows into the dusky darkness. Edwina was looking for constellations in the early winter sky when she heard Will’s pick-up truck approaching. 

Will reached across the front seat and pushed open the passenger door.

“Thanks for sending me that list,” she said excitedly. “I found Honeysuckle on it.”

“What?” Will said. “Her name wasn’t anywhere on that list
––I must’ve checked it ten times.”

Edwina pulled the door shut and buckled her seat belt. She turned toward Will, tucking her legs underneath her. Will shifted the truck into first, and pulled out into the darkening night.

“Yes, it was. Listen,” she said, her eyes gleaming in the glow of the dashboard. “I spent the whole afternoon running checks of the names and numbers on the list to see if anything interesting came up.”

“Since the killer chose the Hitchcock Film Festival as the backdrop for Bunny’s murder,” she continued, “I decided to cross check the names of everyone in the audience against a list of names of characters and actors from Hitchcock movies, starting with
Spellbound
. And guess what? There’s a character in the movie
Suspicion
that
matched a name on your list. ‘Isobel Sedbusk’!”

“I looked up a description of the character,” she continued. “Isobel Sedbusk is a clever English spinster who writes mysteries. I’ll bet you dollars to donuts the person who signed their name as ‘Isobel Sedbusk’ turns out to be Honeysuckle Blessington!”

Will shifted gears and picked up speed after they crossed the bridge and joined the main road.

“Nice work, Watson,” he said.

“And another thing,” Edwina said. “Remember the message that was written in the bathroom? ‘Revenge is sweet and not fattening’? I looked it up––a quote from Alfred Hitchcock.”

“If it turns out you’re right,” Will said, “the question becomes, why would Honeysuckle give a false name, when any number of eye witnesses could verify that she was there in the auditorium that night?”

“I haven’t worked that out, yet,” Edwina said. “I know I’m right, though. It’s just a question of how it all fits together.”

“Hm,” Will replied. “You’ll be pleased to hear that we got an anonymous call at the station today, suggesting we take a hard look at Honeysuckle.” 

“Well, there you go! Think about it,” Edwina said. “She gave a false name, she lied about knowing Bunny––she’s obsessed with Chaz Winner––and she was obviously holding back information at the Farmer’s Market.”

Will kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. 

“Chaz Winner told me Bunny definitely used homeopathic medicine for cramps, and also for headaches,” he said. “It could easily have been Honeysuckle who homemade those pills. And here’s another bit––the piece of film used to strangle Bunny was from a French movie. We know that Honeysuckle works as a French translator.”

Edwina was quiet.

“That’s too much coincidence for me,” Will said.

“Me, too,” she said.

The stars shone brighter as night fell, as the foothills loomed closer. Route 110 was unlit and there were few other cars on the road to illuminate the enveloping darkness. Every so often the inviting lights of a house appeared through the trees.

“What happened with that bag of tea I bought from Honeysuckle at the market?” Edwina asked. “Did you turn up anything interesting?”

“It was the exact same blend Mary Buttery made the day I interviewed her
––harmless,” Will said. “Even so, I sent it out for chemical analysis, in case something else shows up. Maybe trace amounts of esculin or colchicine––the stuff the medical examiner found in Bunny.”

Will slowed down when he saw a felled deer on the side of the road up ahead. He pulled to a stop behind it. They both jumped out of the truck to inspect.

“It’s a female. Dead, but still warm,” Will said. “Probably only weighs a hundred and twenty pounds. Help me get it into the truck.”

“What?” Edwina asked, alarmed. “How come?”

“Well, now that the poor creature has been killed, we might as well make use of it,” he replied. “Recycling.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Edwina.

“Food,” Will replied simply.

Edwina looked at him in horror. 

“My dad’s a country doctor, Edwina, and a Yankee through and through. When I was a kid, if we found a dead deer in the road, we’d take it home so it wouldn’t go to waste. He taught me how to cut up the carcass, clean it, and look for diseased organs.”

Edwina stared at Will, trying to process this ghoulish information. She felt queasy.

“He taught you how to cut up a dead deer when you were a kid?” she repeated.

“I know it sounds strange,” Will said, “but when you think about it, it’s pretty practical. Free meat.”

Will opened the tailgate, and Edwina climbed into the back of the pick-up truck. He hefted the deer onto his shoulders, and squeamishly, Edwina helped him maneuver it onto the truck bed. The warmth of the deer’s body made her eyes sting with tears. Will covered the deer with a canvas tarpaulin.

“Poor thing,” Edwina said. 

They passed a sign that said,
Chelsea 12
. Will took the next right turn onto an unmarked dirt road. The road inclined gently, becoming steeper as it made its way uphill through the trees. They passed one house on the left, and about a quarter mile later, another house on the right. The road leveled off, and they pulled into a clearing. The only lights came from the moon and the stars. And the icy surface of a pond reflecting moonlight.

“Here we are,” Will said.

“What about the deer?” Edwina said.

“It’ll be okay in the truck.  It’s a cold night.”

The frosty ground crunched as they approached Will’s darkened house. It was pitch black inside and smelled of sawdust and wood smoke. Will flipped on a light. An imposing stone chimney stood in the middle of the open floor plan. Will busied himself making a fire.

“Have a look around, if you want,” he said.

Edwina wandered through the sturdy house, admiring the handsome materials Will had installed for the floors, the ceiling beams, the hearth, the kitchen. She ran her hand along the cool surface of the matte black kitchen counter, and gazed upwards at the vaulted ceiling with its rough sawn hemlock timbers and solar panels. She walked down a short hallway that led to a bathroom and laundry room, and found a light switch.   

At one end of the large bathroom was a capacious open shower, tiled in what looked like squares of green sea glass. There was no glass door or curtain or partition of any kind separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, none needed. A shiny, cream-colored woodstove stood at the other end of the bathroom, and a long window looked into the woods.

Will appeared with two glasses of wine.

“What do you think?” he said.

“It’s incredible, Will. The place is beautiful,” Edwina said.

He took her on a tour of the house, feeling pleased by her questions and obvious interest.

“These are gorgeous,” she said, standing in front of a wall of handsome bookcases with glass front doors.

“They came from an old library in Massachusetts that got torn down a couple years ago,” he said.

“What about this?” Edwina said, pointing at a tall corner cabinet with raised panel doors and fluted pilasters. “It’s very pretty. I love those do-dads around the top, and those fancy columns.”

“The molding? Yeah, that came from a house in Maine, probably built around 1800. The place was getting remodeled, and the builder wasn’t planning to reuse the cabinet. A friend of mine was fishing up there last summer, and he salvaged them for me.”

Edwina peered up an unenclosed staircase with wide, open treads. A procession of thin balusters topped with a hand-carved oak handrail led her eye to a loft. She wondered if Will would think she was being nosey if she asked to see it, and decided not to. Squinting her eyes upwards, all she could make out was the lumpy, dark shape of something that was possibly a dresser.

“Bedroom,” Will said, walking on.

Dinner was served on the sofa, in front of the fireplace. Will handed Edwina a bowl of beef stew with a fat piece of French bread sitting on top. To her great delight,
Spellbound
was queued up on the flatscreen over the hearth. Will turned off the lights in order to watch the movie. She snuggled into her end of the sofa, and tasted the delicious stew. The crackling fire periodically popped with loud bursts of wood sap.   

Enveloped in the quiet warmth of Will’s mountaintop house, tipsy from wine, a kind of giddiness washed over Edwina. She felt a million miles away, suspended in space-time, very far away from her daily routine. Will refilled her glass, and set the bottle on the floor between them. She stole a glance at her host at the other end of the sofa, illuminated by firelight. Her gaze lingered approvingly.

What a handsome devil he is! But what a perfectionist! Just look at this house––every detail so perfect. Even this dinner is perfect––oh my god, is this fresh cilantro? We would probably drive each other crazy––me with my head in the clouds half the time––him, wanting everything to be in its proper place.

Edwina returned her attention to the movie, and devoured the remainder of the stew, mopping it up with the last bit of bread. Setting the empty bowl on the floor, she repositioned herself and lay on her side, resting her head on the arm of the sofa.

By the time Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck went skiing down the precipice, Edwina was sound asleep.