Poisoned (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) (12 page)

“No! Wait.”

“That’s better.” I proceeded to tell Samantha everything I knew I shouldn’t but I needed to sort things out.

“So where does someone get this bean stuff?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you one thing, whoever did it probably mashed the stuff up in a blender. If we can find that blender, then we’ll have ourselves a killer. Hold on. I’ve got to go get my food.” I put the phone down on the picnic table and went to get my hamburger.

“Okay, I’m back,” I said a moment later while licking a bit of ketchup from my fingers.

“John can’t really think Mrs. Brissart killed her grandson, can he?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s usually so sensible. And he’s a great cop. I just don’t know what he could be thinking.” I took a bite of my hamburger savoring the flavors of smoked bacon, tomatoes, onions, jack cheese, and avocados. “Mmmm. I needed that,” I said into the phone. “I’ll just have to set him straight.”

“You think he could be right?” Sam asked, her voice hesitant over the connection.

I set the burger on the waxed paper. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. How could someone kill their own grandson?”

“Well, according to what you’ve just told me, it seems fairly certain a family member killed Bradley, so why not a grandmother?”

I groaned. “You should have seen her. Beside herself with grief. And his parents…” I told Sam about the rest of the people I had met and then hung up. Trying to hold a small cell phone and a big hamburger at the same time was just too much for me to handle. One of them had to go and it wasn’t going to be the burger.

I arrived back at the house. John’s car was parked outside along with one I didn’t recognize. As I walked along the drive, two men stood at the left far corner of the wooden porch in deep conversation—Stuart and Steven. I climbed the green steps but neither man seemed to notice my approach. I walked as softly and slowly as I could, hoping to catch something of what they discussed.

“Okay, Stuart, but this is the last time. I mean it.”

Last time for what? I wanted to sit on one of the chairs and take notes, but surely they would notice me then. I couldn’t linger any longer without arousing suspicion, though both men seemed to be totally oblivious to my presence, so reluctantly I entered the house.

“Come in, Miss Harris,” one of the twins said, though I couldn’t remember which one she was.

I entered the living room, scanning the faces for Marsha, who was nowhere in sight. “I was looking for either Marsha or Mrs. Platz,” I began, hoping that in her inebriated state, Marsha might let something slip about a blender and some beans.

“My daughter had to leave and Virginia is in the kitchen, no doubt. I think my sister is upstairs with Ken and Lily. And your detective is talking with Larry. Oh, where are my manners,” June said, taking a moment to fluff up her hair. “I’m June Doliveck and this is my sister, May Estenfelder. But please, just call us June and May.”

What did she mean by
your detective
, I thought while taking off my sweater.

“Do you care for something to drink, Miss Harris?”

I could use a cup of tea. The stand at the beach only sold soft drinks, which always left a funny taste in my mouth. I thought a second if I should risk a drink with these potential poisoners and a maybe-murderess in the kitchen and decided the hell with it, I wanted, no
needed
a cup of tea.

May Estenfelder picked up a small bell on the mantle and rang for Mrs. Platz. I never saw anyone
ring
for someone other than in the movies and I did the mental eye roll thing at the pretentiousness. The tea requested, the three of us settled down for a nice chat.

“We understand you and Detective Van der Burg are dating,” June said.

“Yes, we are,” I answered. I glanced from sister to sister. Both June and May looked like Mrs. Brissart, though the twins were a bit taller and heavier in the hips than their older sister. They had blue eyes but without the twinkle and spark in Mrs. Brissart’s. Both women had gray hair on which they added some sort of rinse making their heads give off a lavender hue, especially in certain light. Since they both wore purple dresses, May’s with black buttons down the front, I wondered if they tinted their hair to match the color of their clothes. God help us if they took a liking to lime green fabric or day-glow orange. An image of Millie dressed like a member of the squash family flashed in my head and I realized on second thought maybe purple hair wasn’t so bad.

“We were wondering, Miss Harris, that is, my sister, June and I, well, no sense in beating around the bush. We thought you might be able to have a word with your young man and convince him that his efforts are wasted concentrating on our family.”

“Why is that, Mrs. Estenfelder?”

“May, please. Because no one from our family would be capable of such a hideous crime. I’m not sure if you understand our standing in the community. Our family ties go way back in Connecticut and well, this rather unpleasant interrogation is a bit of an embarrassment. Why just today…” She turned to look at her sister. “I forgot to tell you, June, but my neighbor, Mr. Saksa, came out and asked me all sorts of things about which member of the family did I think killed poor Bradley. Well, I can tell you what effect it had on me! Right out in front of my own home! I hope no one else saw him badger me with his nonsense. So you see, Miss Harris,” she said turning her attention back to me, “the detective must stop this harassment at once.”

“To whom do you think he should direct his investigation?” I asked.

“Well, we’re not sure, but certainly no one from this family. Why, Roberta leaves her door open and she is far too friendly with common folk, you know. She lets the milkman come right into the kitchen with his butter and cottage cheese! And the paperboy, he stood right there, for goodness sake.” May pointed to a spot somewhere in the entry hall.

“Who knows who else she lets come into her house? And of course there’s the gardener, Mr. Kaminski,” added June. “He actually lives in this house. Roberta is far too friendly with her staff. She shouldn’t have live-ins, not in this day and age!”

“Mrs. Estenfelder…May, why would any of these people want to kill Bradley?” I asked hoping that some light might be shed on my newfound suspicions of Mrs. Platz.

“Well, that’s just something that your Mr. Van der Burg will have to ascertain. He will not get to the real culprit wasting valuable time on us. I would venture to say that the person responsible is probably clear to Mexico by now,” May said, waving her hand in a direction that I knew did not lead to Mexico.

A smarmy looking man entered the living room and came to where we sat. I recognized him at once from the accurate description Mrs. Brissart gave that this was the infamous Mr. Smit.

“There you are. I wondered what happened to you,” June said, suddenly acting like a lovesick schoolgirl.

I envisioned the scenario Mrs. Brissart laid out for John and me yesterday about these two off in one of the rooms upstairs, clawing at each other’s flesh. It had been funny to hear about it but now that I had the two participants right in front of me my visions weren’t as amusing as yesterday.

“J.T. here has some wonderful ideas for our land. He’s planning a whole new community up there,” June gushed the words out all the while gazing up at this lizard.

Hard as I might, I just couldn’t fathom what on earth June saw in this man. His eyes were small and red-rimmed, and his hair, what little he had, was a greasy mess plastered on to an egg-shaped head. Crooked teeth filled his mouth. I put him at about forty-five though he looked older. But as unappealing as I found him, I wondered what he saw in June.

I sat there feeling weighed down by the massive amount of meat I consumed at lunch. I felt sick and wanted to leave but John’s words came flooding back.
Mrs. Brissart hasn’t been cleared as a suspect
. I had three suspects right here, top ones at that. I couldn’t let a couple pounds of bread and meat digesting in my stomach get me down. With a straightening of my shoulders meant to convey determination to my mind, I told myself I was on a mission, and one that a certain policeman did not share—to clear Mrs. Brissart’s name. I’m sure Winston had to go into battle on more than one occasion with a few too many meat pies sitting in his all too prominent belly and if he could do it so could I.

So without further ado, I smiled at each one of my suspects and said, “So all of you showed up Monday night,” hoping to catch them off guard.

“Why, of course we did. We arranged for the meeting in the first place,” both sisters said in unison totally oblivious to my catching-them-off-guard strategy.

“Yes, that’s right. Roberta is proving to be very difficult. The sale of this land would make her very wealthy indeed, not to mention that house of hers.”

June and May nodded their agreement to this last profound statement coming from the mouth of J.T.

“I thought she already had plenty of money,” I voiced, knowing full well adding to Mrs. Brissart’s coffer never entered their minds.

“Of course Roberta’s a wealthy woman, but you can never have too much money, now can you?” J.T. smirked at me. Did I see a wink? Was he flirting with me? In front of his beloved?

I turned slightly giving J.T. a glimpse of my back and directed my next question to the twins. “Do you have any idea why someone wanted to kill Bradley?”

“Of course not!” May said putting her hand close to her heart. “We’ve already told that detective everything that happened that night.”

“What exactly did happen, Mrs. Estenfelder?”

May heaved a huge sigh, forcing her bosom to strain the buttons of her dress. “Everyone arrived by five-thirty. Really, we’ve already told the police all of this.”

“Maybe if we tell it again, someone will finally listen. And she
is
dating that detective,” June enthused to her sister. This seemed to appease May and June continued. “J.T. made his presentation about his plans for the land. And an excellent presentation it was!” She gushed again at the man who seemed to be a bit embarrassed or was it disgusted, with her attention.

“Oh, do you have a sketch of what it’ll look like after being developed?” I reluctantly turned back to J.T. and asked with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“Well, no, not with me. But here’s my card. You’re more than welcome to come by the office and view the plans when you have a moment.” He handed me one of his business cards quickly touching my hand in the process, while June’s face flushed with anger.

“Thank you.” I tucked the card into my purse. “So, getting back to Monday evening, you all arrived together and left together, is that right?”

“Well,” May answered, “we all arrived within a half hour of each other, except of course, Kendra, who showed up later. Kendra, a lovely girl, but Bradley could do better. Do you know her family history goes back to the beginning of ours? Our illustrious ancestor, Lucien Cournet and Kendra’s great great, oh I don’t know how many greats, but her ancestor was Raymond Thiry. Of course, he was murdered is how the story goes, and any chance of a good line stopped there. I believe Kendra’s parents work in a factory.”

“Yes, that’s right, they do. Poor souls,” interjected June.

“So, yes,” May continued. “Let’s see. So, everyone arrived. A bit of arguing ensued as usually happens at these get-togethers, and then about eight or so, Virginia brought out a light supper and I had two macaroons myself. Though why Roberta made them so evil looking is beyond me. Knowing my sister like I do, she probably did it to bother me. She knows how frightened I can become. But they tasted good nevertheless. She made them from the same recipe our mother used and I just love them so!” She put her hand to her heart again and started to sway.

“May, are you all right? Sit down! J.T., run get a cold compress.” June barked at the developer and I began to see how the relationship worked.

I helped June put May on the sofa where she started to recover and grabbed at her sister’s sleeve. “June, you ate a few of the macaroons as well.”

“You’re right. I did. And so did J.T. Good lord. We all could have been killed.”

“Do you think it’s possible to sue Roberta for failing to insure her buffet?”

I thought all that was missing was a southern accent and a hand fan.

“May, you may have something there. We’ll have to contact our lawyer.” June turned to look at me. “Please don’t misunderstand. We love our sister, but well, we could have been killed. Every last one of us. Roberta should be taught a lesson.”

Losing a grandson seemed like quite a lesson to me, and besides, Mrs. Brissart was not responsible for what happened. One of these idiots was. A headache started at the back of my head, working its way to the front, which took my mind off my stuffed stomach, and I understood completely why Mrs. Brissart hated her family. I wanted to walk out on the pair of them but still hoped for a bit more information. I also wanted to talk with June about the love of her life, Charles, but thought it better to confront the woman alone.

“If you’re feeling better May, could we get back to the events of Monday evening,” I said a bit abruptly. “So you tried to convince Mrs. Brissart to sell but she wouldn’t listen?”

“She certainly did not,” May said as she fanned herself with her lace hankie. So now all we needed was the southern accent. “My sister never listened to anyone in her entire life. We’ve told her over and over again to stay away from certain
elements
, if you get my meaning. She continues to throw herself into work with women who don’t have the good sense to get out of bad marriages and she works with the homeless. Why, any one of them could have come right in here and poisoned Bradley.”

“Mrs. Doliveck, that doesn’t make any sense. First, I think the work your sister does for this community is something to be proud of. I wish I did more, I’m ashamed to admit, and second, why would someone from one of her charities kill Bradley, for goodness sake?”

“Well, that’s a good point, I’ll grant you that, though perhaps they wanted to hurt Roberta. You know, maybe in their warped mind they resented her all her money and her house and just wanted to cause her some pain.”