Take a Dive for Murder (3 page)

Joel and Carrie entered through a set of French doors at the side of the house. They stepped into a large room already crowded with people talking and eating. On the far side of the room was a fireplace nestled between two floor-to-ceiling bookcases. A large crackling fire warmed the room. In the middle was a seating area with two overstuffed sofas and four leather chairs sharing space on a thick Oriental rug. Several groups of people who were engaged in conversations around the room looked up when Joel and Carrie entered.

“Joel, are you sure it is all right for us to enter this way?” asked Carrie.

“We missed the official reception line at the front door, but you were officially welcomed at the cemetery. Besides, this is where the food and beverages are,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, don’t worry. You make yourself comfortable, or should I say right at home, and I’ll let everyone know we are here. Give me your car keys and I’ll have your luggage taken to your room.” Joel accepted her keys and made his way through the crowd and out into the hallway.

Carrie moved farther into the room and captured a glass of wine from a passing tray. She found herself standing near two women of Mrs. Faraday’s age.

“It seems such a shame. He just arrived home.”

“Yes, and he was finally settling down,” the second woman added.

“It continues to amaze me how well he did. You know, he barely made it through high school. He had to attend TriCity State College because his grades were so low. But then he got that second degree from a top journalism school and one award after another for his work.”

“Well, as I always say, good family lines are inherited. In some children it just takes a little longer before they appear.”

Carrie moved away and heard a second conversation between a man and a woman.

“What will happen to his son? I hear
he’s just like his father was at that age. A little on the wild side,” offered the woman.

“Geraldine and Charles should send him to a good military boarding school. I always say discipline is the way…”

Carrie tuned out the conversation and selected a grilled chicken quesadilla triangle with a tangy salsa from one of the food tables. She picked up the food item as a distraction from the surrounding conversations and then realized she was quite hungry. Carrie looked over the assortment of food. There was grilled fillet of beef on a stick, bite-size crab cakes, cut vegetables, and a display of caviar.
My, my
, thought Carrie,
little TriCity has become quite cosmopolitan, offering caviar at its functions.
She fixed herself a toast point of black fish eggs topped with a dollop of sour cream. She popped the delicacy in her mouth and was debating what to select next when she overheard pieces of another conversation. She maneuvered closer to the conversation by pretending to stare at the crackling flames in the fireplace.

“I hear the death is still classified as suspicious.”

“Was there alcohol in the blood?”

“Not enough to account for the drowning.” The two men
talking were both in their late fifties and were the same two men standing next to Joel at the funeral. One man was thin, medium height, and balding, in an exquisite dark charcoal gray suit, while the other man was tall with salt-and-pepper hair, a matching moustache, and silver-rimmed glasses. Both men exuded a sense of wealth or “old” money that Carrie associated with the Faradays.

“One of my sources at the medical examiner’s office said there was a contusion on his head.”

“Jamie could have hit his head on the pier when he went into the water,” suggested the man in the charcoal suit.

“It’s a possibility,” the
other man said as he rubbed the end of his chin. “You know, the police have taken all these odd little circumstances and wrapped them in a neat little package. I hate neat little packages. I think they want it to be accidental.”

“But, Hugh, if it’s not accidental,
you’re saying you think it could be murder? That part of downtown tends to be very safe. It’s well patrolled by the police because of all the tourists. Although I guess it could have been a simple mugging that went bad.”

“Look, I did want to ask you something else,” said the taller man. “As long as I can remember, James was always w
riting. Was he working…”

“Oh, there you are.” Joel returned.

The two men, sensing people nearby, moved further away. Carrie turned to face Joel. His timing couldn’t have been worse, but she smiled. “I felt a little chilled, so I’m just warming up here at the fire. Joel, who are the two men chatting over by the window?”

Joel looked over. “I see only one, but
he’s someone I want you to meet.” Joel motioned for the shorter of the two men Carrie just overheard to join them.

“Carrie, this is Jonathan Stone.
He’s the general manager and the man who sees that every issue of
News World
hits the streets each month. Jonathan, this is Carrie Kingsford.”

“I’m a loyal reader and a longtime subscriber of your magazine,” Carrie said as she shook his hand. She noticed that his bushy eyebrows offset his smooth
, round face. Although he was balding, the hair on each side of his head was thick and perfectly clipped. His face lit up at her words.

“
That’s truly a compliment, coming from a professional photographer like you. I’m very much aware of your work and your reputation.” He smiled as he acknowledged her.

Before Carrie could answer, Joel said, “I see someone I need to greet. If yo
u’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two to chat.”

He grabbed a treat of caviar from a passing tray and then
darted off to the other side of the room. There was an awkward pause as the two strangers were left to carry on the conversation.

Then Carrie said, “It must be difficult to lose a journalistic talent like Jamie.”

“Yes, such a sad occurrence.” Jonathan paused for a moment as if he was remembering a special memory and then continued. “He was an editor’s dream. Jamie wrote the pieces, could also capture a good photo when needed, and had the mobility to go anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice. Of course, I also lost a personal friend, but I understand he was a personal friend of yours, too.” Stone accepted a drink from one of the trays being passed by a waiter. Then he set the drink on the fireplace mantle as he straightened the sleeves of his cuff-linked shirt.

“Jamie and I were friends in college, but lost touch over the years.”

“Oh, really? Then I wonder why he selected you for this mysterious letter of his.” Jonathan realized the implication of what he said and then gently added, “I mean, after all this time.”

“Does everyone know about this letter?” Carrie asked
trying not to sound annoyed.

“I’m afraid we were all a little curious when your name was mentioned by Simpson. You’ve no idea why
Jamie would write you a letter?”

“Sorry, I don’t know. Believe me
, his death was a tremendous shock, but his letter is even more of a shock. I’m just beginning to catch up on the details of Jamie’s life, and now I’m in the middle of his death. I understand from Joel that his wife also died under unusual circumstances?”

“In light of Jamie’s death, I guess people would react that way. The actual truth is Emma, that was his wife’s name, was the victim of an accidental hit and run on a London street. That was over two years ago. After Emma’s death
, Jamie found himself with the sole responsibility of a ten-year-old. He refused to put Christopher in a boarding school and took him on all his assignments. But I think, as the boy got older, Jamie realized he needed the stability of regular schooling and wanted to come back to TriCity.”

“And Jamie had been back in TriCity for…?”

“I guess about three months. By the time Christopher finished the current school year, Jamie finished his assignments and I arranged for other reporters to replace him, it took me a while to get him home.” Jonathan stopped the waiter carrying a tray of caviar. “Have you sampled this caviar, my dear? It seems to be the snack food of choice in TriCity at the moment, and this brand is quite good.” Jonathan took a moment and carefully fixed the treat and quickly consumed it. He then took his napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth. “Quite tasty, are you sure you won’t have some?”

“I tried some, it
’s delicious, but I’m good for right now.” Carrie shook her head no, and the waiter moved away.

“The world does seem to be getting smaller, just based on all the different foods we are able to enjoy
,” added Stone.

“Mr. Stone,
you mentioned Jamie’s assignments, was Jamie working on a story at the time of his death?”

“Please, call me Jonathan.
‘Mr. Stone’ is too formal. No, he wasn’t writing anything for me. As I mentioned, he was just getting settled, and I hadn’t given him any assignments.”

“He was to working on a story!” announced a young voice from behind Carrie and Jonathan.

Carrie and Jonathan Stone turned to face Christopher Faraday.

“Hello, Christopher. Have you meet Carrie Kingsford? She was a friend of your father’s from his college days.”

“Hello. I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t get to introduce myself because Grandmother made me go right to the car.”
Christopher held out his hand. “I wanted to talk to you about the letter my dad left you.”

Carrie looked into the young eyes of Christopher and saw someone she once knew. She ignored these thoughts and said, “Nice to meet you,” as she shook his hand. “You said your father was working on a story at the time of his…” She stopped.

“You can say it…death. I’m not a two-year-old. I understand what happened and, I know a lot about my dad’s work.”

“Was he working for someone else?” Stone asked
sarcastically, “Because he had no assignments from me.”

“It wasn’t exactly an assignment. He
was working on a book.” Christopher rushed his second sentence so much it was hard to understand him.

“Did you say a book? What was this book about? A memoir of his years abroad?” asked Stone
smiling at the boy.

An annoyed look momentarily showed on Christopher’s face, and then he continued directing his comments to Carrie. “It was going to be sort of a mystery. A true mystery, based on stuff he discovered in Europe.”

Carrie looked at Stone. “And what stuff did your father discover?”

“I’m not really sure. He just told me that he discovered stuff he thought would make a good book, but he needed to check things out in TriCity. Plus, TriCity would be a good place for me to go to school, and Grandma’s home would be a good place to live.”

“This seems like a very serious business discussion,” Charles said as he and Joel approached. “Are we interrupting?”

“Hello, Charles
. Christopher was just telling us that his father was working on a crime book,” summarized Stone.

“Christopher, your grandmother wants you to meet some fo
lks,” Charles said. “They’re in the living room.”

Christopher
’s face changed to disappointment, and he looked to Carrie for support. He clearly wanted to stay the center of the current conversation.

“We’ll have
plenty of time to talk later,” Carrie said as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “Your grandmother has invited me to stay here in the house.”

Christopher brightened at this news and headed to the other room.

“We have to give Christopher a little leeway,” Charles said. “Since he’s been home, his stories about his adventures with his father are growing by leaps and bounds.”

“Isn’t there a possibility Jamie did return home to work on a book?” Carrie asked Stone.

“This is the first I’ve heard of a book,” Stone said. “But I’m sure if Jamie was going to write a book, it would center on his experiences during his years in London. As I suggested, more of a memoir about politics, people, and places. Somehow I can’t imagine true crime as the subject. It just wasn’t Jamie’s field.”

“Christopher mentioned that Jamie needed to come home ‘to check things out.’ That sounds like whatever he was
writing had a TriCity connection,” suggested Carrie.

“Of course anything is possible, but the subject never came up with me. Jamie had barely unpacked his papers and put his studio in working order before he died. Speaking of papers, here’
s Hugh Simpson. Hugh, over here.” Stone waved to a man who entered the study from the hallway. Carrie recognized him as the man with Stone earlier.

“Hugh, this is Carrie Kingsford,” introduced Charles.

“Hello, my dear. Such a sad time, but it is a pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. There was something warm and genuine about Hugh Simpson that Carrie liked immediately.

“Has anyone mentioned the letter that Jamie left?” Simpson asked seriously.

They all looked from one to the other, and Carrie giggle
d.

“I think everyone attending this gathering has mentioned Jamie’s letter,” she answered.

Simpson smiled, too. “I’m afraid in my efforts to find out who you were and how to contact you, I did mention the letter to several people.”

“Do you know what the letter is about?” asked Carrie.

“Haven’t a clue! Jamie gave me an envelope about a month ago. It wasn’t a legal document, or at least not one that I prepared. It was a gentleman’s agreement that if something happened to him, I would open the envelope. After his death, I opened it and discovered another envelope and a note inside. The note said I should deliver the envelope personally to you, Ms. Kingsford. That’s the first I knew what was in the envelope and what I was to do with the contents.”

Hugh Simpson removed a business-size envelope from his pocket and handed it to Carrie. Carrie felt as if time
was in slow motion and all eyes in the room were watching the transfer of the letter from Simpson’s hand to hers.

“Perhaps you would prefer to have the letter kept in a safe place until you
have the time to review it. I’ll be glad to keep it in my office safe until tomorrow,” Joel offered quickly.

“I think Carrie will have plenty of time to review the letter here in the privacy of the house,” Charles answered. “If
she’s worried about the letter’s safety, I’ll be glad to lock it in the safe in my study.”

Carrie was sure Stone was about to offer another suggestion, but she interrupted. “Mr. Simpson, you’ve kept the letter safe since Jamie gave it to you. Would you mind holding it for me until tomorrow? I’m not sure I want to deal with the letter tonight.”

“I’ll be delighted to do that for you.” Simpson slipped the letter back in his pocket.