Death in the Secret Garden (26 page)

Authors: Richard; Forrest

BOOK: Death in the Secret Garden

10.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Both troopers immediately moved toward Lyon until Rocco inserted himself in their way. âYou guys are going to have to come through me.'

The taller of the state police officers, who was still six inches shorter than Rocco, turned toward his commanding officer. âCaptain?'

âYou have just shot your career down the tube, big man,' Norbert said. âMy sister will probably end up on welfare.' He stalked out the doors and down from the patio towards the cruiser parked in the drive.

âI think you've created a mess for yourself,' Lyon said to Rocco.

Bea stood outside the French doors, looking down the drive. âNorbie is talking to the television crew. There's one guy with a microphone and another with a camera. I think they're interviewing him.'

Rocco closed his eyes momentarily and then looked up at Lyon. âI would imagine that I am in deep, but you, old buddy, are so far down in a hole that you can't even see the top. Once you get in the clutches of a police bureaucracy that's convinced you're guilty, you won't even get bail. They'll stop looking for anything except evidence that will hang you even higher.'

âIt looks that bad?' Lyon asked.

âDon't be naive. Those guys have you convicted. I've bought a little time. If I don't take you into superior court for arraignment in a few days, the state's attorney will send Norbie a warrant, and there's no way I can fight that. We had best make good use of the little time we have.'

âTo find out who killed Morgan,' Lyon said.

âI'm sure there's not another person in this world who knows that Lyon keeps the numerology of his life on that paper in the desk,' Bea said. âSo there must be another way into that RV. Why don't we start by finding out how Morgan was killed?'

âThat makes sense,' Lyon said as they left the house through the patio. They saw the RV, its front wheels raised up by a tow truck, start down the drive.

âWhat are they doing?' Bea asked.

âThey've impounded it and are taking it to the state garage for evidence examination,' Rocco said.

âThen we don't get to go through it,' Lyon said.

âNot at this point,' Rocco replied. âLet me get the TV guys off the property.' He moved quickly down the drive toward the television station's van.

Lyon walked along the edge of the house and glanced up at the gutters. He reversed direction and moved a dozen feet away from the corner of the house nearest the drive and stooped to pick up the severed ends of telephone lines. âI knew it had to be cut outside the house,' he told her. They walked back to the corner of the building where the phone lines had entered the dwelling. He stood on the seat of a wrought-iron bench near the wall and found that he could reach up to the port where the line went into the building. âEasy enough, huh? Anyone could have cut it. All of us were either in the kitchen, study, or the far side on the rear patio by the parapet. It would have taken only seconds for someone to come around the house, hop on the bench and reach up to cut the lines.'

âIt could have been done by someone not at the party,' Bea said. âYou wouldn't have noticed anyone coming up the drive or across the lawn.'

Lyon nodded. âTrue.'

They were silent as they looked down the drive toward the entrance, where Rocco was arguing with the television crew. It was obvious that he had prevailed, as they were beginning to repack their equipment.

âUntil last night our biggest problem was Camelot over there,' Bea said as she looked toward a high-rise building under construction on the corner of the promontory. Three floors of steel superstructure had already topped the tallest pine trees. A large crane squatting next to the building lifted steel girders to waiting iron workers who nonchalantly walked the narrow high beams.

They knew that the construction was a pricy, trendy condominium. Each unit would come equipped with a spectacular river view. The extra proposed amenities took up half a page in their brochure, and included bridle paths, tennis and paddle courts, a health club and indoor pool.

As the nearest and largest property owners in the area, the town knew they opposed the project. They beat it back twice. The developers knew they'd fight it to death at future public hearings.

The builder waited patiently for two years until the Wentworths took an extended trip to Europe and then rammed a variance through the Zoning Board.

Rocco stood at the bottom of the patio steps with an end of the cut telephone lines. âLet's recreate your story,' he said. âA person, who you cannot identify, threatened you with a sword.'

Lyon pointed to a stand of pine trees that began fifty yards from the side of the house. âIt happened over there.'

Bea Wentworth watched the two men walk across the lawn toward the tree line. Lyon had to look up to speak to the taller Rocco. A breeze unexpectedly swirled in off the river and ruffled Lyon's hair. She automatically brushed the edge of a hand across her own forehead in an exact duplication of the gesture her husband performed two dozen yards away. Her tight smile reflected a nostalgic wistfulness. She knew him so intimately that even his small unconscious gestures and the other nuances that create a unique person were familiar.

At the tree line, Lyon looked over his shoulder and saw his wife enter the house. It was apparent that she'd remained outside to watch them cross the field. He wondered what she'd been thinking.

âAre you with me, Lyon?' Rocco said.

Lyon refocused his thoughts. âYes, sorry. Last night, I was returning to the house after helping someone remove a car from a ditch when this thing came out of nowhere. It was dark, but in the moonlight I could see light refractions from the sword blade. I fell.'

âLet's back up from that point,' Rocco said. âStart with the early evening and tell me exactly what happened. Include every detail you can recall, no matter how inconsequential it might seem.'

âEarly last night, while it was still light, I was on the patio having drinks with Ernest Harnell,' Lyon said â¦

Buy
Death at King Arthur's Court
Now!

About the Author

Richard Forrest (1932â2005) was an American mystery author. Born in New Jersey, he served in the US Army, wrote plays, and sold insurance before he began writing mystery fiction. His debut,
Who Killed Mr. Garland's Mistress
(1974), was an Edgar Award finalist. He remains best known for his ten novels starring Lyon and Bea Wentworth, a husband-and-wife sleuthing team introduced in
A Child's Garden of Death
(1975).

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Andy Ross

ISBN: 978-1-5040-3791-4

This 2016 edition published by
MysteriousPress.com
/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

180 Maiden Lane

New York, NY 10038

www.openroadmedia.com

www.mysteriouspress.com