Death in the Orchid Garden (26 page)

BOOK: Death in the Orchid Garden
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48
Midnight, Monday
 
T
he bad dreams that accompanied violence in Louise's life came to visit.
This time it was an uncomfortable feeling of suspended animation, as if she were floating along the paths of the Kauai-by-the-Sea Hotel without setting foot in the red alkali soil. People passed her going one way or another, people with a motley assortment of appearances, old people, young people, Hawaiians, Hawaiians with mixed blood . . . but the ones threatening her with their dark looks were Anglos carrying curved knives . . .
With a hot bath, fresh bandages on her cuts, and two more pills in her system, sleep had not been hard for Louise to attain. She had put on her roomy blue satin pajamas, come out of the bathroom, and slipped under the covers.
An hour later—she later learned afterward that it was midnight—Louise felt something being shoved down onto her face.
Still half-asleep, her small cry of protest was nothing but a whimper. She thought she was dreaming. She began struggling for breath and her head began to spin from lack of oxygen. It was as if she were falling into an abyss, a dark place where she never again would see her beloved Bill and Martha and Janie . . .
Almost at the bottom of this dark pit, Louise came awake. She tried to scream, to tell the world that she was in trouble, but the sound was deadened to a muffled yelp. Then, like a gift, adrenaline rushed through her body. With her bandaged hands, she pummeled the creature who was sprawled on top of her trying to suffocate her.
“Owww!”criedtheperson, as Louise's blows struck home. The pressure on her face decreased, but she still was frantic for a breath of air. Though she continued to strike her unseen attacker, her weakened body felt as if it would soon close down . . .
The covering flew off her face and the lights of the room came on. Louise blinked in the brightness. The bed was still shaking from a continued struggle and she shrank under the covers, peering out at an unbelievable scene. Beside her on the bed, Anne Lansing, her green eyes now almost black because of her dilated pupils, wrestled wildly with Lieutenant Robert Payne, who was trying to get a grip on her flailing arms. He finally did, hauling the woman to her feet as uncaringly as if she were a sack of rags.
Louise sat upright in the bed, her eyes wide with concern. “Don't treat her so roughly,” she cried. “She's
pregnant
.”
“Sorry, ma'am,” said Lieutenant Payne, though to Louise his hard face looked unrepentant. Her gaze was drawn to the big pillow lying next to her that was to have been the instrument of her death and she wondered why she was protective of Anne. She realized it wasn't Anne, but Anne's baby she'd worried about.
“Just put your hands up, Ms. Lansing,” barked Police chief Randy Hau, who'd entered the room and was approaching with gun drawn. “You can release her, Bob, but watch her carefully.”
As Lieutenant Payne let her go, Anne said, “Oh, Chief Hau, I am
so
relieved you're here.” Though she wore a dark T-shirt and jeans and her web belt with equipment around her waist, she somehow gave off the aura of a lady in distress. Louise saw that now that Anne's pupils were returning to normal size, her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from the pepper spray.
Sending a reproachful look toward the lieutenant, the woman said, “This man
attacked
me. As Louise said, I'm pregnant; who knows what harm he's done to me . . .”
“Ma'am,” snapped Randy Hau, “cut the comedy. You're unharmed. Put your hands up.”
She slowly raised her hands to the level of her shoulders.
“You broke in here to assault Mrs. Eldridge. Lieutenant Payne stayed with her in this room on my say-so, just so he could protect her against you.”
“No, no, you have it wrong.” The graceful hands opened wide, as if she were a saintly supplicant.
“Keep your hands in the air, ma'am.”
Her hands went up again. “Just let me explain,” she said. “I came here expressly to talk with Louise.” She sent a glance Louise's way. “We're sort of friends, you know. She's been very supportive of me since Bruce died. I came to talk to her, because she's had a terrible evening—I was there—and Christopher Bailey was the cause of it. I know everything that happened now.”
The bloodshot eyes had what Louise could only describe as an amazingly believable look. “Christopher killed Matthew Flynn and then he killed my wonderful boss, Bruce Bouting!”
“Oh, such rubbish!” exclaimed Louise. “I've never heard such bald-faced lying.” Without warning, she began to shake as if she had a fever.
Lieutenant Payne stepped over to Randy Hau. “We're arresting this woman, right, Chief? I suggest we get her out of here.” He cocked his head at Louise. “I think she's, uh, you know . . .”
Hau nodded. Payne put handcuffs on Anne Lansing and Mirandized her.
The police chief came tentatively over to the bed and said to Louise, “Thanks. I hope it wasn't too stressful on you.”
“No,” she said, afraid to say more for fear he noticed her tremors. When Randy Hau had proposed this plan to her, Louise had had no idea the results would be so physical. She'd thought that the lieutenant would capture Anne as she climbed up the porch of the lanai, not when the woman had half-smothered her.
They both watched as Lieutenant Payne led Anne Lansing away in handcuffs. The woman jolted to a stop at the door and looked across at Louise. Her voice was like a drop of pure poison. “They'll never prove this, Louise. It's your word against mine and I'm a very convincing wordsmith.” The green eyes continued to stare at Louise, until Payne prodded her out the door.
Hau said, “Sorry about that. Um, maybe you need someone to stay with you the rest of the night. Do you want me to call your friend, Mrs. Corbin?”
Louise thought of how Steffi would be glad to help: She would come in and sit by her bed and soothe her until she fell asleep, like a mother soothing a disturbed child. But she was not a child. “No thanks, Randy.”
“I've got to tell you, this worked out great.”
“I guess so. I'm glad she didn't get out her garden clippers. In that case, your timing would have been off.”
49
Tuesday morning
 
L
ouise got up at six-thirty and put on the first clothes she could lay her hands on, navy shorts and a white T-shirt and her waterproof sandals, in case she had enough energy to walk upon the beach. Her head still felt as if it weren't part of her body. Maybe she
had
suffered a concussion.
She'd had a fitful night since Anne Lansing invaded her room. Anne's hate-filled countenance and her final words rang in her ears, “
It's your word against mine.

For all she knew, Anne Lansing could have been arrested and out on bail by this time.
Louise knew her choices were either to take a pill and sink back in bed, or go downstairs, get coffee, and face reality. The coffee sounded better, so she grabbed her SportSac and left the room.
Downstairs, despite the early hour, there was a bustle of police activity in the lobby area. It was as if the entire Kauai County Police Department had moved its headquarters to the Kauai-by-the-Sea Hotel. She wandered by the registration desk, where sleepy-eyed employees looked vaguely resentful about the prospect of another dull day. Business had fallen off sharply at Kauai-by-the-Sea since it had become tainted with homicide.
Behind the desk was the hall leading to the public relations office where Chief Randy Hau had set up shop. Hau was standing at the door of that office, staring into space. When he saw her, he beckoned her in. “Did you get some sleep?” he asked.
“Some. Did you?”
“Very little. I've been questioning people for the past six hours.” He beckoned her to the familiar visitor's chair, while he settled in the executive chair. He waved out in the general direction of the hall. “As you can see, we have plenty of personnel here. We've been gathering every bit of evidence we can from the suite and when daylight broke, we started on the cliff and on the path between the two.”
“Oh, good. Um, where is Anne Lansing?”
“She and Christopher Bailey both have been moved up to Lihue. She's been charged with assault and he's detained for questioning. I'm going back there as soon as I brief you to question them. I've asked the islands' FBI agents to come in and help with the interrogation. The two of them are lawyering up, of course. Their attorneys will be showing up soon.”
“Anne denies everything, I'll bet,” said Louise. A despondency was settling over her again; she thought of Tom Schoonover's remarks about the statistics on murders that were never solved.
The chief said, “You'll be amazed at what she's got to say. She claims that Christopher Bailey confessed to her that he killed the two scientists—Flynn because of some quibble over a plant, Bouting so that he could take over as head of the company. She says he forced her to help him take you up Shipwreck Rock. You were to be disposed of because you got the goods on him.”
“What about Christopher? Is he sticking to what he said last night?”
Police Chief Hau nodded. “His position is that he was not part of anything.”
“But I'll swear he was. Maybe you can at least show he's been trying to access Bruce Bouting's computer secrets—prints on the computer keys, or evidence he was searching for that password. As for Anne Lansing, she ought to have pepper spray residue on her somewhere.”
“She does,” said the police chief. “And I'm sure we'll find residue up on the cliff. She doesn't deny that you sprayed her with pepper. She says it happened when she helped Bailey take you there.”
Louise's head was swimming, just listening to the lies. She got up from her chair and said, “I'm sorry, but I have to go get some breakfast. Let me know if you need me for anything, Randy. I'll do anything to keep those two behind bars. If they get out on bail, I don't trust them not to come after me again.”
“I need you to think back on any detail that might help us pin the murders on her—something that puts her with you in this scene.”
She paused for a moment by his desk, thinking. “I am remembering more things. In the suite, look for red soil on the rug near the gaming table. I must have dragged in some of it.”
He shook his head. “Red soil is fungible. I don't think that will make the case.”
Then it came back to her, Anne's cry of pain when Louise hysterically bunted her in the head. “I have something better. Look for strands of my hair in the duct tape the police removed from my mouth last night. When she started putting the tape on my mouth, I fought her. Some of my hair stuck to the tape and hurt like the very devil. Some of her hair strands probably got caught.”
“Very good, “ said Randy Hau.
“So I can go now?”
“Yes, but I suggest we talk again after you eat. Who knows how much more you'll be able to call up? Frankly, we're up against two smooth characters. Ms. Lansing is particularly convincing to those who haven't seen or heard of her. We want to tie both of them to the events of last night at the very least.”
“But not to the murders?” She swayed slightly as she stood by the desk. “That woman is like a black widow. She might get away with the whole thing.”
He looked at her strangely. “You promised the medicos here that you'd check in. I don't like the look of you. Are you feeling okay?”
“I'll go to the clinic after I eat.”
Louise walked down the hall toward the hotel dining room, noting that people were up now and getting ready to face another day in paradise. She was nearing the parrot cage. Not caring any more, she started to stroll by, but then saw the bird staring at her, a mass of feathery shivers as it wound up for another temper tantrum. She stopped before him and decided to stop being a wuss. She raised a bold hand in the air, as if she were a traffic cop ordering a citizen to stop. The bird looked baffled, twitched its feathers one more time, and then became as still as a statue. She nodded at the bird and marched on to the dining room.
Once seated at a table, it was decision time again. She was ravenous. Would it be the lavish array of food laid out on the buffet table, or a custom breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast that would take at least fifteen minutes to get to the table? She opted for the bacon and eggs.
Sipping her coffee, she stared out unseeing at the palms and causarina trees and allowed herself to wallow in depression. It felt as if the American justice system now rested on her shoulders. Two violent murders. How could she prove that Anne Lansing had committed them?
Looking up, she saw Tom Schoonover walking across the room. He sat down and joined her. “Hi, Louise.”
“What are you doing here so early?”
“I was worried about you. I phoned Randy Hau to see how things were going. He told me what happened in your room last night.” He shook his head. “I'm so sorry.”
“Tom, all the police have is that incident in my hotel room. About everything else, Anne and Christopher are telling different stories. She's indicting him, while he's professing total ignorance of what went on.”
“We can hope for the best,” said Tom. “At least Anne will be brought up on charges of assault.”
“And she gets away with murder.”
After ordering his breakfast, Tom folded his hands in front of him and stared at her. “I have a possible solution. If the police can establish that Christopher was trying to break into Bouting's computer program, they'd have him. It certainly sounds logical that the family would bring charges against him. Then the district attorney could offer him a deal if he'd testify about what Anne Lansing told him. He might be happy to do that for a reduced charge.”
Once they were eating breakfast, she said, “This is not going to be an easy day.”
He smiled sympathetically. “It's as if you won the lotto and found out there's no money in the pot.”
She looked up from her plate and saw the sober-faced chief hurrying toward them. “What now?”
“Maybe there
is
money in the pot,” said Tom.
Randy Hau came over to their table and put a faintly trembling hand on Louise's shoulder. “Good news,” he said, and couldn't help grinning.
“Sit down, Randy,” urged Tom Schoonover, and pulled out a chair for the policeman.
“I couldn't wait to tell you,” he said, leaning forward toward them. “A cursory examination through a magnifying glass of that duct tape is all I needed. I got quite a clump of
your
hair—uh, brown with a couple of gray strands—and a few strands of shorter, darker hair.”
“That's Anne Lansing's.”
“Yeah. And since it came out at the roots, there'll be no trouble doing DNA testing. That's a terrific boost to our case against her.” His face slowly broke into a smile. “And we have other good news.”
“John?” she asked.
“Yes,” said the chief. “John Batchelder can talk. He woke up a few minutes ago and came out of his semicoma. He told the officer stationed at the hospital what happened.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and a sense of peace enveloped her. “What did he say?”
“He's a witness, in a sense, to both murders. Down there at the lava flow on Chain of Craters Road, he was tailing Anne Lansing.”
“Hmm,” said Tom Schoonover. “I wouldn't have thought he had it in him.”
The police chief waved away a waiter who wanted to serve him coffee. He continued, “John saw Anne cajole Bruce Bouting into going inside that safety line. He
witnessed
it when she shoved him into the lava. Not only that, on the trip over to the Big Island, while standing in the restroom line, he overheard Dr. Bouting hint that she'd murdered Matthew Flynn.”
The chief paused and grinned, self-consciously running a hand through his dark straight hair. “I can't tell you how happy I am—my first two murder cases, solved.”
“And what happens to Christopher Bailey?” asked Tom Schoonover.
For a minute, Randy Hau's face clouded. “His case is different, but with your help, Louise, I believe we can make a case for attempted murder.”
She remembered Christopher's reluctance to drag Louise up that cliff. “Yes, but he's nowhere near as culpable as our deceptive friend, Anne—an unwilling participant, but she talked him into it. I realize now that John was trying to tell me about her before he lost consciousness after the accident. He wanted me to know that Anne's love life was behind Matt Flynn's death. She killed him to preserve her romantic relationship with the wealthy older man. Then she had to kill the older man when he saw right through her.”
Tom said, “So, in order of ascending importance, her motives were love, money, and staying out of jail.”
BOOK: Death in the Orchid Garden
8.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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