Scam Chowder (24 page)

“Well, thank you for checking on things, Don. Everyone here has been so kind to me.”

The quick switch from suspicion to sweetness in Thomasina's tone worried Val. She moved away from the window. She wasn't getting out that way. Maybe Thomasina would go to the bathroom, and Val could rush out. A long shot. Better to invent a cover story like Granddad's.

“We try to be helpful in this neck of the woods, not like city folk,” her grandfather said. “You a city gal, Thomasina?”

“I don't like all the traffic and the crime.”

As long as Val was stuck here, she might as well poke around while Granddad made small talk. He would have looked in the closet and drawers for evidence, but not under the bed. His arthritis made it painful for him to get up and down.

Val crouched, lifted the dust ruffle, and turned on her flashlight. The suitcase under the bed intrigued her more than the slippers. She tugged at it. Not empty. The case had a luggage tag on it. Her flashlight illuminated the name on the tag—Samantha Lowie. Why did Thomasina have a suitcase belonging to someone else? Or was it her own suitcase, packed for a quick getaway, tagged with the alias she would use next? Aliases often have a connection to the original name. The Brontë sisters' pen names used initials that matched their real initials. Some people change only their last names or their first names. But Thomasina used very different names. Val stared at the luggage tag. On second thought, Samantha, Shawna, and Thomasina did have something in common.

Val stood up and moved closer to the wall dividing the bedroom from the living room.

“Can I get you something to drink, Don? Coffee? Beer?”

“I'd love a beer.”

Val cringed.
Don't drink it.

“Let's have a happy hour,” Thomasina said. “I'll get some snacks too.”

Time to save Granddad. Val stuck her head out the bedroom door and peeked down the hall toward the living room.

Her grandfather stood near the shelves displaying Thomasina's collection of antique bottles. The vintage glassware reminded Val of her visit to the secondhand shops.

Thomasina was out of sight. Val hoped Thomasina couldn't see her either. She crept across the hall to the bathroom, left the door open, and flushed the toilet.

Two astonished faces greeted her when she sauntered out to the living room. Val grabbed the beer stein Thomasina was carrying. Foam sloshed over the top and spilled on the rug. “Thanks, Thomasina. I've been dying for a beer. I hope you don't mind that I used your bathroom.”

Granddad's eyebrows lowered like the thunderclouds outside.

“You've been sneaking around my house!” Thomasina bellowed as loud as Granddad had earlier.

Val tried to look indignant. “I wasn't sneaking. Granddad and I came to visit you. When we found the door open and you gone, we thought you might have an intruder. You didn't, but I really had to use the bathroom.”

Fury made Thomasina's face turn bright pink. “You're the only intruders here. You broke into my house, both of you.”

A loud pound on the door made them all jump. “Police! Open up!” More pounding followed.

Thank goodness. Val held the beer stein steady and rushed to the door. She flung it open.

Oops. Not the police. Ned
.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Val glanced behind her and glimpsed Thomasina going to the kitchen. “Granddad's here. Don't close the door.” She motioned to her grandfather to leave.

Ned came into the hall and stopped dead. His widening eyes focused on something over Val's shoulder.

She turned around.

Thomasina clutched a long-bladed knife in her hand. “You're all crazy. You're trying to kill me, but you won't get away with it. I can defend myself.” She pointed the knife at Val and Ned near the door and then at Granddad standing near the fireplace. Back and forth, it went.

Ned stepped in front of Val, shielding her with his body. “Calm down, Thomasina. No one's trying to kill you. We're happy to leave.” He spoke quietly, his tone soothing.

“Don't move.” Thomasina's mouth with its thick red lipstick looked like a bloody slash in her face. “Close the door.”

No way. With the door open, Val and Ned had a chance of getting away. Not Granddad, though. Thomasina stood between him and the door. In her peripheral vision, Val saw him backing away. Diverting Thomasina's attention might give him time to rush to the bathroom and lock himself in. Then she and Ned could run out into the pouring rain and call the police. Well, she could run. She wasn't sure about Ned.

“Someone's coming,” she said. Wishful thinking. The downpour made it hard to hear even the sound of a car motor.

“You can't fool—” Thomasina broke off, her expression a cross between rage and amazement.

“Police. Drop the knife or I'll shoot.” The voice came from the porch outside the door.

Holtzman! Val never thought she'd be happy to hear the deputy's voice. She was even happier to see his gun. She leaned against the wall near the door, woozy with relief.

Thomasina released the knife. It fell on the carpeted floor. “I'm so glad you're here. These people invaded my house. I was terrified of them.”

Holtzman's gun didn't waver. “Step back from the knife, ma'am. Farther. Keep going.” As she backed up, he moved closer and beckoned to the deputies behind him.

Val stood aside to let Roy Chesterfeld and two other deputies go by. Chief Yardley came in next, with a young officer Val recognized. Officer Wade had taken her statement about the murder in June. What had brought them all here?

Two deputies Val didn't know flanked Thomasina. Roy picked up the knife.

Holtzman put his gun away. He scowled at Val, obviously not as happy to see her as she was to see him. “I might have known.” He joined the crowd in the middle of the living room and motioned for her and Ned to follow him. “What's going on here?”

“That man”—Thomasina pointed at Granddad halfway across the room—“and his granddaughter broke into my cottage. I came home and found them here.”

Holtzman pointed to Val's jacket. “You're the hooded prowler a neighbor reported.”

As a rule, the report of a prowler probably wouldn't merit his attention, but a prowler at the house of a woman whose son was murdered brought out a lot of law enforcement.

Granddad stood ramrod tall. “She's not a prowler. Val and I saw the door was open. She yoo-hooed, and Thomasina didn't answer. I went in to make sure Thomasina was okay and nobody had broken in.”

Misleading about his motives and the time sequence, but nothing Val would call an outright lie, no facts anyone could disprove.

Thomasina's injured look suggested she disagreed. “I always lock the door when I leave. They jimmied it open.” She pointed at Ned with a trembling hand. “And that man barged in here, claiming to be a policeman.”

Granddad threw up his hands. “She misunderstood. Ned knocked on the door to tell us the police were coming and we should open it. Then she came out of the kitchen with that big knife.”

Ned nodded. “She yelled that we were trying to kill her.”

“Of course I had a knife. I was cutting things in the kitchen.”

“You came home, found people here who broke in, and went into the kitchen to cut something?” Holtzman eyed the ten-inch carving knife. “What exactly were you cutting?”

He stood equidistant from Thomasina and Granddad, the three forming a triangle. The chief and Officer Wade stood closer to Granddad, while everyone else clustered at Thomasina's end of the room.

Thomasina looked nervously toward the kitchen. “I got it out to slice cheese.”

Granddad held out his hand palm up toward her. “See how well she treats
intruders
? She poured me a beer and said she'd fix happy-hour food. Val's holding that beer. I hope you analyze it. I'd like to know if she laced it with anything.”

Holtzman looked skeptical, but Chief Yardley spoke up. “It's worth looking at that beer.”

At a nod from Holtzman, one of the deputies near Thomasina left her side and took the glass from Val.

Thomasina pointed at Val. “She grabbed it away from me. If it's laced with anything, she drugged it. Why aren't you arresting these people?” With her lips quivering, she looked at Holtzman.

Val groaned inwardly. The man had a soft spot for teary women.

He took a step forward. “This looks like a standoff. Three people who don't belong here say one thing. The one person who does belong says another. This is her property. At least two of you trespassed. Just because a door is open, you don't get to walk in and stroll around. That's a lesson you should have learned, Ms. Deniston, the last time we had dealings with each other.”

Thomasina broke into a smug smile, which made Val gnash her teeth. The good news, Holtzman had noticed the smugness.

He stared at Thomasina with narrowed eyes. “You had a weapon in your hand when we got here. No one else did. That changes the equation.”

“It was three against one. I was defending myself.”

Granddad stepped toward Holtzman. “If you hadn't arrived with your posse, she'd have slashed us. Long as you came this far, take a look around. While I was checking for intruders, I ran across the wig and baseball cap she wore to disguise herself after she murdered Junie May.”

Thomasina blinked back tears. “I have a wig in my bedroom and different kinds of hats. That doesn't mean I murdered anyone.”

Score one for Thomasina. If she hadn't drugged the beer, she'd probably get off and file a complaint against the intruders.

Val raised her hand. “Let's not forget the white car.”

Thomasina appealed to Holtzman. “I don't
have
a white car.”

Val shifted position so she could watch Thomasina's reactions. “Easy for you to rent a car. What name did you use? Shawna Maliote? No, I'll bet it was Samantha Lowie.”

Thomasina flinched. Holtzman trained his raptor eyes on her.

Val's turn for a smug smile, but she knew enough to hide it. “A good search of this place might turn up IDs for those and other aliases she's used.”

“She might keep her fake IDs in a safety-deposit box,” Granddad said.

He could probably show the police exactly where Thomasina kept the safety-deposit box key.

“You can't search my house.” Thomasina's calm had returned. “You have nothing on me. You need probable cause for a search.”

Roy perched his head sideways and studied her. “Sounds like you've spent time in the criminal justice system.”

“I watch
Law & Order.
”

Thomasina had an answer for everything.

Val thought of a way to rattle her. “If someone will give me a pen and paper, I can write down other aliases she might have used. Maybe you'll find one of them in a database that tracks frauds.” And have probable cause, not just for a search, but for an arrest. A murder charge could come later.

At a nod from the chief, Officer Wade gave Val a small spiral notebook and pen. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Val didn't have the skills Thomasina exhibited at the Brain Game. It would take her longer, but she'd do her best. She wrote Samantha Lowie, studied it, and jotted another name. “Amelia Washton.” She glanced at Thomasina's bored face and created another name. “Eloisa Thawman.”

Thomasina's eyes flickered.

Val put an asterisk next to the name and kept going, announcing each name after she scribbled it. Mahalia Weston. Athenia Maslow. A twitch from Thomasina on that one—an asterisk. Alison Mae Thaw. Ana Lois Mathew. Natalie Mashow. Sheila Manatow. A tremor seized Thomasina. She clutched the back of the divan, where she'd lolled on Val's first visit here. No asterisk necessary. Sheila Manatow must have done something really bad.

The chief held out his hand for the notebook. “Good enough, Val. I'll run those names.” He left.

Granddad gave her a thumbs-up. He'd succeeded in his mission, finding evidence that linked Thomasina to Junie May's murder. But that wouldn't get him off the hook for Scott's murder. A purse on a side table in the living room caught Val's eye, leather with a gold chain strap. Thomasina must have left it on the table when she came in this evening and found Granddad here. The same purse had hung from Thomasina's shoulder at the chowder dinner.

“Something on your mind, Ms. Deniston?” Holtzman said.

She would probably arouse his wrath, but it was worth it to see Thomasina's reaction. “Assuming you do get a search warrant, look for arsenic.”

Thomasina looked aghast. “Are you suggesting I murdered my own son? You planted the arsenic. To frame
me
for what
he
did.” She pointed at Granddad.

“When did I do that?” Val asked.

“Yesterday when you were in my kitchen.”

Roy craned his neck toward the kitchen. “I guess we know where to start the search.”

“Handle the salt substitute with care,” Val said. “If your kitchen search doesn't turn up anything, check that purse on the table. It may have traces of arsenic inside.”

Thomasina collapsed onto the couch. “I want a lawyer.”

Chapter 25

Deputy Holtzman allowed Val, her grandfather, and Ned to leave Thomasina's cottage after Chief Yardley reported on the results of running the aliases through criminal databases. Val had no idea what he'd found, but it was enough to tip the balance against Thomasina in the
she said, he said
standoff. Once outside the cottage, Granddad suggested a fast getaway and invited his partners in crime for a pizza.

They'd driven in separate cars to Giovanni's and now sat at a table for three, facing the parking lot at the Midway Shopping Plaza. The red-checked vinyl table covers positioned Giovanni's in a niche between pizza chains with paper place mats and Italian restaurants with cloth-covered tables.

Val didn't realize how famished she was until she breathed in the scent of Giovanni's hand-tossed pizza. She glanced at the brief menu. “What kind of pizza would you like, Ned?”

“I like everything plain. Some tomatoes on top would be okay.”

“Good idea.” Val gave her Granddad a
don't argue
look. He preferred pizza loaded with meat, but he owed Ned for abetting his crazy scheme of searching Thomasina's house.

Granddad put his menu down. “Anything except the clam pizza is fine with me. I'm off clams.”

The waiter came with ice water and took their order for a large Margherita pizza.

Ned unwrapped his straw. “Why didn't you answer your cell phone when you were at Thomasina's, Don? I tried to reach you and tell you to get out.”

Granddad pulled his cell phone from his jacket and punched some buttons. “Yup. Your calls went through. I never noticed because I had the phone on vibrate. I'll put it in my shirt pocket next time.”

“Next time, Granddad? You're going to break into another house?”

“He'll have to do it without my help,” Ned said. “How'd you come across all of Thomasina's aliases, Val?”

“I made them up, using the same letters she used in the three names I knew about. Thomasina Weal, Shawna Maliote, and Samantha Lowie are anagrams.”

Ned frowned. “Which is her real name?”

“They're probably all fake. Remember the trivia question about the alias used by Hollywood directors? Only Thomasina knew the answer—Alan Smithee, which is an anagram of
the alias men.
The names she used are all anagrams of
the alias woman.
”

Granddad stroked his chin. “It would have been smarter to use aliases that had nothing in common. And to answer the Alan Smithee question wrong.”

“Thomasina get a question wrong on purpose?” Ned shook his head. “She's too competitive to do that. Anyone who needs that many aliases is up to no good.”

Val agreed. “I doubt Scott had to coerce her to help him in his scams. In fact, she might have pressured him to swindle people. I'm really sorry you lost your money to him, Ned.”

“He never got any of my money. I wanted to invest twenty thousand, but I didn't have the cash. Your grandfather wrote me a check as a loan until my house sells.”

Val turned to her grandfather. “
You
lost money then?”

He poked his straw around his water glass. “Ned got cold feet about the investment. Problem was, he didn't tell me right away.”

“I wasn't comfortable using your grandfather's money, but I didn't want to give it back right away. I was afraid he'd invest with Scott, and then it would be my fault if he lost money. I told him I signed his check over to Scott.”

“After Lillian warned me against investing with Scott, I moved the money out of my account so the check wouldn't clear.” Granddad played hopscotch on the checked tablecloth with the pepper shaker. “I forgot to leave enough in there to cover the bills that get paid automatically. After the chowder dinner, Ned told me what he'd done and gave me back the check.”

“I wish I'd known that, Granddad. That overdraft notice had me worried.”

“I told you I took care of it.”

She might have believed it if he'd given her more details, but he'd expected her to trust him. From now on, she'd try. Just because he botched cooking didn't mean he wasn't competent in other matters.

The waiter set down an elevated tray with the pizza. Val liked how the cheese was dappled on top, not lying like a thick winter blanket over the red sauce. A perfect summer pizza, studded with fresh tomatoes and green basil. They dug in and said little until they'd eaten enough to take the edge off their hunger.

Ned went through two pieces of pizza quickly, leaving the crusty edges uneaten. “Tell me how you figured out Thomasina was the murderer.”

Granddad put down a half-eaten slice of pizza. “We reconstructed the murder like they do in the movies and saw that Thomasina had the best chance to poison the chowder. The bowl she started with ended up in front of Scott. She said the creamy chowder was too rich for her and passed it to the person she wanted to kill, Junie May.”

Ned wiped his hands on his napkin. “Thomasina never had any problem with rich foods at the Village. Doughnuts. Cheese. Ice cream. She ate 'em all.”

“And she asked her neighbor to buy her cream and hamburger meat.” Val washed down her last bite of pie with iced tea. “I realized the significance of the food while I was checking out at the supermarket tonight. Her food didn't match her words. Her trivia answers didn't either. She missed a question that anyone diagnosed with gallstones would have known.”

“You talked about salt substitute in the cottage. I never saw her use that either.”

“Lillian saw Thomasina sprinkle it on the second bowl of chowder,” Granddad said. “She must have had a packet with arsenic and one without. In case anyone saw her put the salt substitute in the bowl she gave Junie May, Thomasina had to sprinkle what looked like the same thing on the chowder she ate.”

“Did she carry the packets in that purse you saw at the cottage, Val?” Ned asked.

“Probably. Women rarely keep their purses at the table except in restaurants. Junie May had to leave the table to fish her cell phone from her purse on the sofa. But Thomasina had her purse on her shoulder when she left the table. It was with her during dinner so she'd have the packets when she needed them.”

“Too bad she didn't mix them up,” Ned said. “Did she get the arsenic from a chemical supply place?”

Val shrugged. “Maybe, or it might have come from one of those colorful bottles on display in her living room. I found vintage arsenic in a pretty bottle at a secondhand shop.”

Granddad grunted. “And I found some in the attic. I don't understand why Thomasina wanted to kill Junie May.”

“I have a hunch,” Ned said. “She was jealous. When a woman at the Village praised Scott for visiting his mother so often, Thomasina complained that he didn't spend as much time with her as he used to, because he had a girlfriend in the area.”

“Hmph. You can swindle all you like, but you better not neglect your mother.”

“Not if she's Thomasina.” Val leaned toward Ned. “I haven't thanked you yet for putting yourself between her knife and me.”

Ned patted his middle. “I got more flesh on my bones than you, and you've got more years to live.”

“Thank you for being a hero, and may you never have to do anything like that again.”

“I'll second that.” Granddad signaled the waiter for the check.

 

 

After closing the café on Saturday afternoon, Val weeded the vegetable garden, a task she usually disliked. Today she welcomed it as another sign that life was returning to normal. At the club this morning, she'd seen other positive signs. A brisk business for breakfast and lunch, with the summer slump winding down. Her tennis teammates back from vacation and planning the week's matches. Bethany wearing clashing colors instead of animal prints, her caveman diet now history.

Val might even find time to work on her cookbook, now that she didn't have a murder to occupy her. The chief had called with an update on the case against Thomasina to ease Granddad's fear of arrest. Using her Samantha Lowie ID, she'd rented a white sedan the day Junie May was murdered. She also had a fraud charge pending under one of the aliases Val had guessed. While giving no details, the chief had hinted at other evidence tying her to the murders.

Val stood up and brushed off her jeans. Futile. After last night's rain, she had more mud than dust on her. A white sedan with a yellow antenna bauble pulled up to the curb. Lillian. Val resisted the urge to waylay her. Granddad could handle a meeting with his girlfriend without his granddaughter's help.

Two minutes passed before curiosity got the better of Val. She went into the house by the back door, washed her hands, and joined her grandfather and Lillian in the sitting room.

Lillian looked small, enveloped by the old tweed sofa. “I'm glad you joined us, Val. I hear Thomasina's in custody. I owe you both an explanation for what I did, and I hope you'll forgive me. I met with Arthur Tunbridge's family several times after his death. When Omar told me why Arthur committed suicide, I hired a private investigator. He trailed Scott from his workplace to the Village here.”

“So it wasn't a coincidence you ended up here. Why did you follow him?”

“I hoped to stop him from swindling other people.”

Val understood the impulse to fix a problem and prevent an injustice.

“Did you tell the police about the private investigator?” Granddad asked.

Lillian shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable. “After Scott was poisoned, I didn't want the police to know about the private investigator. They would have assumed I stalked and killed him. I blamed myself partly for his death, Don. I arranged the dinner and talked you and Omar into confronting him. I figured one of you had poisoned him.”

Granddad's jaw dropped. “You thought I murdered Scott? And Junie May too?”

Lillian shook her head. “I knew you wouldn't kill her, and neither would Omar. I should have told the police about the private investigator then, but I didn't have an alibi for Junie May's murder. Even worse, I matched the description of the person driving away from her house in a car like mine. I was afraid they'd arrest me. I'm sorry that put you in a bad position.”

The doorbell rang. Val went to answer it with no worries about her grandfather's infatuation with Lillian. He could decide for himself whether to continue their relationship.

She opened the door to find Roy on the porch, trim and handsome in his uniform.

He broke into a boyish smile. “Hi. You have time to talk?”

“Sure. My grandfather has company, or I'd ask you in. Let's sit on the porch.” She perched on the glider and frowned at her filthy jeans. “Sorry I'm not dressed for company. I've been gardening.”

“You look great to me.” He sat in the wicker chair across from her.

“Are you involved in questioning Thomasina?”

“Yup. She has an answer for a lot of things. She bought the gray wig to see how she'd look if she stopped dying her hair. She got the stun gun we found at her place for her protection after someone pushed her down the stairs. The medical examiner might be able to tell if it made the burn found on Junie May's body.”

That burn explained why the police gave up on the suicide theory. Val didn't like the sound of
might
. “Please don't tell me she's going to get off for Junie May's murder.”

“She won't. Your list of the possible aliases she used is helping us nail her. When the police first talked to her after Scott's murder, she gave her real name and a story about why she didn't use it. She had a clean record under that name, but we found complaints against her for fraud under three of her aliases. With enough time and resources, we'll probably find the evidence that she helped Scott scam people.”

“Given her record, she probably ran those scams. He was a pawn. What about the beer she poured for Granddad?”

“No test results yet. She probably wouldn't have used arsenic again. More likely, she'd have tried giving him something that would result in a heart attack. She had some heart medicine in the kitchen. Your salt substitute tip paid off. We found a half-used packet containing powder that looked different from what was in the sealed packets she had. Assuming it's arsenic, we've got her.”

If that turned into the key piece of evidence against Thomasina, Val would have Lillian to thank for it. “Thomasina should have disposed of the arsenic instead of saving it for a rainy day. She was arrogant, assuming she wouldn't get caught.”

Roy's stomach rumbled. “Sorry, I haven't had a chance to eat much today.” He pulled a protein bar from his shirt pocket and offered it to Val.

“No, thanks. I can get you something more substantial to eat.” And tastier.

“I'm good with this.” He ripped into the bar. “It would help with the interrogation if we knew why Thomasina resorted to murder.”

“I can guess. Scott fell in love with Junie May. Thomasina was losing her grip on her son. The chowder dinner gave her a chance to get rid of her rival. She found out a week before the dinner that Junie May would be there.” Val rocked in the glider. “I think that's when Thomasina planned the poisoning. She made up a packet of arsenic-laced salt substitute in case she got the chance to get rid of Junie May. Scott gave his mother an extra incentive to kill her rival that night. He bought an engagement ring at the vintage jewelry shop in town, the last thing he did before picking up his mother for the chowder dinner.”

Roy nipped a small piece off the protein bar and chewed it. “We found a fancy diamond ring at Thomasina's place. We'll check with the jewelry store to see if that's the one he bought.”