Death in a Summer Colony (19 page)

39

“I
t’s good you got hold of me today. I’ll be going back to Chicago tomorrow,” said Pepper Markley as she plopped into a chair across from Ray. He perceived by the tone of her voice and her body language that something clearly was not right.

“You sound as if you’re not planning to come back.”

“That seems to be it. I got a call from the head HR person at Wudbine Investments early this morning, I mean it wouldn’t have been 8:00 in Chicago yet. I’ve been terminated. Ms. Ridley said my last day is officially Friday, but that the family would prefer that I leave the premises at my earliest convenience. ”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Stunned, just stunned. And get this,” Pepper was shaking with rage, “the severance package, two weeks. Can you imagine? It’s like getting knocked down and then stomped on. I was planning on leaving this position soon, but not like this. Malcolm had promised me that I would be well taken care of as I transitioned to my next job, either within the company or somewhere else in the industry. I was interested in becoming a stock analyst. Malcolm had taught me a lot in our day-to-day conversations.”

Ray peered across the narrow desk that separated them. Before this interview he had been thinking about how he might get beyond the corporate loyalty she had displayed during their first interview. The Wudbines had provided some unexpected help.

“Did they give you a reason for your termination?”

“Not at all. Ms. Ridley, that’s the HR person, young and officious, just said the family no longer needed my services, and that there was nowhere else in the company where my skill set met current job openings. Skill set, what BS. I’ve got an MBA from Chicago and almost three years of tutoring from one of the best minds in the industry. I can do almost any job in the organization.

“It’s not just getting sacked, Sheriff. There’s a whole question of housing. In the summer I live in an apartment on the grounds near Gull House. When we’re in Chicago, I live in an apartment near Malcolm’s penthouse. The housing was part of my compensation package. That was the arrangement. Mr. Wudbine wanted me close, so I was always available. Like I said, it’s not just getting sacked. Now I have to find someplace to live, move, and then start a job search. This isn’t how Wudbine Investments treats its employees. They always provide generous termination packages.” She slowed, catching her breath. “The firm has been downsizing in recent years. Everyone who was downsized out received their salary and insurance for six months. And there was usually a fairly lavish handshake, too, depending on years of service. When I pressed Ridley about this, she just blew me off with some sarcastic comment about my lack of gratitude.”

“You have no kind of contract?”

“Nothing like that, we are all at-will employees. But my getting sacked, this doesn’t happen at Wudbine, not normally. On Monday, Elliott assured me that they would continue to need my services, now perhaps more than ever, those were his words. And today, this. Go figure. I don’t think I’m even being credited for unused vacation. I’ll probably have to sue for that.”

Markley look at Ray, her anger now seemed to be directed at him. “Why am I here? I’ve already told you everything I know.” She stared at him for a long moment. “They aren’t trying to implicate me in this whole mess, are they? That would be the final….”

“Nothing of the sort. We’re just beginning to conduct a second set of interviews with people who were close to the crime scene or had special knowledge of the victim. And you, obviously, fit both of those criteria.”

“Well, I don’t know anything more than I did a few days ago.”

“We often find that witnesses, after overcoming the initial shock and horror of a traumatic event, remember details that help with an investigation. So I’m going to cover much of the same ground we covered before. First, how did it happen that you were in the play? Wasn’t this a big time commitment, given all work responsibilities you’ve told me about?”

“I think I told you that Malcolm encouraged me to take the part. But it was more than that. No one showed up at tryouts who was right for the role. I’m talking about age and appearance. So, I was pressed into service by Mr. Wudbine. I sort of objected, but I learned long ago that was a waste of time. He always got what he wanted. I don’t know what’s the best way to describe him, persistent or insistent. And, in truth, it turned out that I really enjoyed being in the play. It got me away from Gull House. I met many interesting people that I’d only seen in passing during previous summers. I was having a wonderful time. It really strengthened my resolve to find a new job. And then everything fell apart.”

“Ms. Markley, the night of the murder, the perpetrator was probably in the theater early on. The killer might have been someone who slipped into the stage area and secreted himself or herself very successfully, and after the crime effected a successful getaway. Or the murderer might have been one of your fellow actors, or a member of the crew. Someone had to notice something.”

“You left me out of your list of possible suspects, Sheriff. And I should be near the top. I knew all the minute details of Mr. Wudbine’s schedule, the inner workings of his home and office, and I was close to the murder scene at the time of his death.”

“That’s all true. Is there some reason I should move you up on the list? Can you suggest a motive?”

Pepper gave him a sardonic smile. “Saturday, I had no motive. Today there are several people I’d like to off. But Malcolm isn’t on the list. I’m sure he had nothing to do with my current situation.”

“Your relationship with Mr. Wudbine, had it changed in recent months?”

“By changed, do you mean was it strained?”

“That’s one possibility,” answered Ray.

“I don’t think so. We both knew it was time for me to move my career forward. My leaving would have been a greater inconvenience to Jill. I really have been the concierge, taking care of the details in everyone’s life. From dentist appointments and restaurant reservations to international travel itineraries, I’ve made it all happen. I’ve also handled all the staffing issues at their three homes. I suggested to Jill months ago that I should start training my replacement. Instead, she sends me on a long business trip with Elliott. And that turned out to be a disaster.”

“How so?”

“Actually, the trip went fine. But before I left there’s this big panic about Mr. Wudbine’s cappuccino. Jill almost cancelled me out at the last minute. She was on one of her campaigns to rehabilitate Brenda. I was supposed to teach Brenda how to make coffee to her husband’s specifications. It was a total disaster. Brenda is a poster child for learned helplessness. At the last minute we had to have a totally automatic machine FedExed overnight. I did manage to teach Brenda how to turn it on and push the right buttons. And to make sure there was backup, I trained the cook and Jill.

“And then while I was gone Malcolm got some mysterious illness. He was sick for several days with an acute gastritis. They rushed him to the local walk-in clinic. The initial diagnosis was food poisoning. I guess he recovered a bit, and then a few days later he had another episode. They brought his internist in from Chicago.”

“What was the diagnosis?”

“I don’t think that changed. Again, suspected food poisoning. When Malcolm was dieting, which was most of the time, he lived on these king prawns. He had a standing order with a supplier in Louisiana for a weekly shipment. His doctor banned the prawns and put him on a bland diet. Grace was directed to empty the contents of the refrigerators and freezers, and then restock everything.”

“Did anyone else in the household get sick?”

“I don’t think so, remember I wasn’t there. But somehow when I got back, well, things were different. I do the ordering of the special food items. That’s part of my job as concierge. Jill gave me the impression that she held me responsible for Malcolm’s illness.”

“So your relationship with her started to decline after the trip?”

“Who knows? That’s just the feeling I got from her. You have got to understand that the woman is inscrutable. Her nickname around Wudbine Investments is Ms. Spock. Trying to figure out what’s going on in her head is always about nuance. I would have been more comfortable if she were yelling and screaming. Then, at least I would have known exactly what she was thinking.” Markley stopped and looked down at her hands, then back up at Ray. “But this getting sacked. It had to be Jill. Elliott wouldn’t do this to me.” She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “She insisted that I accompany Elliott on that trip, then sort of acted like I was after her man.”

“Any reason she should be worried?”

“Not on account of me. I think he’s as much of a cold fish as she is.”

Ray slid several pages of paper across the table. “Ms. Markley, I’ve highlighted your comments from our first interview about the events of Saturday evening. Would you look through those, and see if you have anything that you might want to add or change.”

He sat silently and watched her eyes scan the text. When she finally looked up she said, “I wouldn’t change anything. This is exactly the way I remember it.”

“Jill Wudbine, do you remember seeing her backstage before and during the play?
”

“Like I told you, I got there early. I must have seen her in the dressing room or green room, but I don’t have any clear memory of that. We were both onstage during the first scene. I exited way before she did. I didn’t see her again until I came from the makeup area to see what the hubbub was all about. Jill seemed stunned, just like the rest of us. She was sobbing. I didn’t think she was capable of that much emotion.”

“But you don’t know when she returned to the green room.”

“No, I didn’t see her.” She pushed the pages with the highlighted areas back across the table. “Is there anything else, Sheriff? I have a lot to do.”

Ray glanced down at his notes, and then up at her. “No, not at the moment. If possible, I would like you to stay in the area for a few more days. I might have additional questions for you.”

“Does this mean I’m a person of interest?”

“No. But you were near the scene of the crime, and you have an intimate understanding of the Wudbine household. I may need to tap your knowledge again. Here is my card. If anything occurs to you that you think might be helpful to solving this crime, please contact me.”

Pepper grasped the card with her right hand and carefully scanned the information before dropping it into a shirt pocket. “I see you’re not on Facebook, Sheriff.” She gave him a mischievous smile before she departed.

40

“I
understand that Ms. Markley is no longer employed by Wudbine Investments,” said Ray looking across the table at Jill Wudbine.

“That was a long time in coming. Pepper was one of my father-in-law’s welfare cases. She started with us as an intern. Although she had her degree from a good place, Malcolm could see that she was far too green to make it in the corporate world. I mean she was from some little burg with a name like Hicksville or Piggott, someplace in Arkansas or Iowa. So he took her on, this Eliza Doolittle, thinking he could turn her into a duchess, or at least a moderately cosmopolitan woman. I advised him against it at the time, but Malcolm was determined. Always the optimist. And I have to admit, this job he created for her, concierge, was brilliant. It exposed her to all the right kind of people and things. But at the end of the day, I’m not sure she learned anything other than a taste for the good life.

“As for her termination, with Malcolm’s death, this is the right time for her departure. If she weren’t so obtuse, she would have seen it coming months ago. But you didn’t drag me over here to discuss human resource problems. I’m pressed for time, so please let’s get through this interview as quickly as possible.”

“Okay,” said Ray, “I have two things that I would like to go over with you. First, you’ve had a few days to reflect on the events of last Saturday evening. I was wondering if you might have any new thoughts on who might be responsible for Mr. Wudbine’s death.”

“Your question…don’t you think I would have contacted you immediately, Sheriff, if I had anything to add? I have thought of nothing else since…those terrifying moments. I’ve searched my memory for any detail that might serve as a clue. Nothing. Malcolm Wudbine was an exceptional human being. Whoever killed him was probably a hired assassin or some deranged character who was striking out against the world.”

“And who would have hired an assassin?” questioned Ray, wondering what inane response she would next float his way.

“We live in a global economy, Sheriff. We have competitors in distant places, barbarous societies, people who don’t play by the same business rules we follow. Perhaps that’s where you will find your killer. And then there’s the current political climate, all this chatter about the concentration of wealth. This might have been a hate crime precipitated by class envy.” Wudbine’s answers were delivered in her characteristic monotone.

Without commenting, Ray handed several sheets of paper to her. “There you will find a transcript of our conversation on Sunday. I’ve highlighted the parts that deal with your recollections of what happened while you were in the theater. Please read your statement and see if there are any additions or changes you would like to make.”

Ray sat and watched her read through the transcript, first scanning, and then going over the highlighted areas a second and third time.

“No, Sheriff, I have nothing to add or change. That said, I was thinking about Pepper, just as an example, of course. I saw her early on. She must have been one of the first people there. Then later we were onstage together. And I didn’t see her again after her exit, well, until the lights came on. I can remember seeing her wander in from the makeup area when Grubbs was telling us what had happened.

“I’m not trying to suggest that Pepper might have been involved in this crime. But if she had a murderous intent, it would have been so easy to hide somewhere on the far side of the stage waiting for Malcolm to…well you know the rest. And again, I’m not trying to implicate Pepper in any way. What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re asking questions that are impossible to answer. People were constantly moving about. At best, they might remember where they were, but to give you reliable information on anyone else, impossible. You are wasting your time. And now to an important issue, when will my father-in-law’s body be released for burial?”

“Soon,” Ray responded.

“Patchouli oil, do you know what patchouli oil smells like?” asked Sue as she came into the library building, the screen door slamming behind her.

Ray looked up from his screen. “Patch…what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You sound sort of crabby. What’s going on?”

“Jill Wudbine.”

“Oh, I just saw her. Remarkable woman. I don’t know how you can pass someone on a narrow sand trail without making eye contact. Do you remember what she smelled like?”

Ray gave Sue a long look, “What’s going on?”

“Patchouli. It’s a scent, or more correctly, an aromatic oil.”

“I’m totally lost. So put all this together for me.”

“I was just interviewing Tom Lea.”

“How did it go?”

“Couldn’t have been better. When Tom is on his meds, he mostly makes sense. And fortunately, there were no interrupting cell calls from the great beyond.”

“So tell me about this Patch…?”

“Patchouli. We know that Tom was lurking around the auditorium trying to get in to see the play with his personally created ticket. When that didn’t work, he watched through an open window until the rain got so heavy that he took refuge under the picnic shelter. From there he had a perfect view of the back of the building. He said he saw someone open the doors on the electrical cabinet, and then the light on the side of the building went out. He’s sure it was a woman because of the shape of her raincoat. As this person was leaving the area, she stopped briefly under the shelter to light a cigarette. Tom says the scent of patchouli oil was in the air after she came through.”

“He’s sure?”

“He claims to have some expertise in aroma
therapy, something his mother verified.”

“Where do we get some of …?”

“Patchouli oil. I imagine we can find some in Traverse City. That’s a good assignment for our summer intern. But there’s something more. Before the patchouli-scented woman passed through, there were two others who used the shelter. The first arrived just after Tom got there, a woman driving a golf cart. A few minutes later a man arrived. Tom said there was a lot of kissing going on. Hollywood-style kissing, that’s what he called it. The kind you see in movies. Then they disappeared.”

“Did someone come back for the cart?”

“He didn’t know. Said he left shortly after the patchouli lady came through.”

“So where does this leave us?” asked Ray.

“We know that Alyson Mickels parked a cart under the picnic shelter. She told us that. So who was the man? Elliott Wudbine? And if it were the two of them, where did they go next? Were they involved in the murder or were they going off to find a place that offered greater privacy?”

“So we need to talk to Elliott and Alyson again,” responded Ray. “And the woman wearing patchouli, your nose is better than mine. I don’t remember coming in contact with anyone wearing excessive amounts of perfume the last few days. You know it usually gets me sneezing.”

“How about when we were talking to Brenda Wudbine?”

“Roses, carnations, and gin. I didn’t sense anything else. Did you?”

“No. But you know I’m Ms. Wash and Wear. I don’t own any perfume. I’ll get our intern, Barbara Sinclair, headed over to TC. I bet there’s someone at central dispatch who can guide her to a source for patchouli oil. When she returns, we’ll see if….”

“But what if Tom Lea is wrong about the scent?” asked Ray, standing, putting his hand on the small of his back, and stretching from side to side.

“Then we look for Hollywood-type kissers.”

“How much faith do we put in Tom Lea?”

“We use the information carefully and see if some truth follows.”

“I like that. Elliott should be here next. Stick around, I may need your help.”