The Unkindest Cut (24 page)

‘‘He was more than that,’’ Crenshaw said, his voice soft. He pressed his handkerchief to his eyes again.

A knock on the door ended what could have become an increasingly awkward interlude. Sophie jumped up from her chair and almost ran to the door. She held it open for Deputy Ainsworth and his subordinate, Deputy Jordan, to enter.

‘‘Ladies,’’ Ainsworth said, nodding at us. ‘‘Mr. Crenshaw.’’ We all nodded back at him.

‘‘You said you had something to show me, Mrs. Diamond?’’ Ainsworth stared at me, and I wanted to squirm like a guilty child.

I had been thinking about what to do and say when Ainsworth appeared. For the moment, I didn’t think anyone else should know about the card I had found. I wanted Haskell Crenshaw out of the room when I revealed the king of spades to Ainsworth. The fewer people who knew about it, the better—that was my reasoning.

‘‘Yes,’’ I said, ‘‘but before we get to that, we have something we think you should know. Mr. Crenshaw can explain the significance of it.’’

Crenshaw shot me an odd look before he addressed the deputy. ‘‘These ladies told me that Basil Dumont has been asked to take over a nationally syndicated bridge column. He made that announcement to them a little earlier today.’’

Ainsworth appeared to be hanging on to his temper by a thread. ‘‘Why is that important?’’

Crenshaw breathed deeply before answering. ‘‘Avery Trowbridge was all set to take over that column. They were going to fax the contracts right here to the hotel. Today, as a matter of fact.’’

I was watching Ainsworth’s face closely while he spoke to Crenshaw, and at the word ‘‘fax,’’ Ainsworth cut a glance sideways at his subordinate, Deputy Jordan, who stood near him in his line of sight. I followed his gaze, and I saw Jordan nod, almost imperceptibly.

Ainsworth’s eyes focused on Crenshaw. ‘‘So you’re trying to tell me that Mr. Dumont might have killed Trowbridge so he could take over this column?’’ He didn’t sound quite as surprised as I would have expected.

Crenshaw stood up and stepped forward a few paces, until he was only two feet away from the deputy. ‘‘I don’t think you understand what was at stake here, Deputy. Avery Trowbridge was a big name in the bridge world, and he was only going to get bigger once he was writing this column. It’s read all over the world. It gives whoever writes it a very high profile, and that leads to a lot of lucrative gigs. Avery was going to start making even more money once his name was on that column.’’

‘‘You would have, too, wouldn’t you?’’ Ainsworth asked.

Crenshaw nodded. ‘‘Yes, I would have.’’

‘‘That makes it sound more plausible,’’ Ainsworth said.

‘‘You’re damn right it’s plausible,’’ Crenshaw responded, the heat rising in his voice. ‘‘That weenie Dumont never could compete with Avery—alive, that is. With Avery out of the way, the field is clear now. He got tired of always being second choice, and that’s why he killed Avery. The minute Avery was dead, he must have called the syndicate to offer his services, but I’ll bet you he didn’t tell them Avery was murdered. ’’

‘‘This will certainly bear investigating,’’ Ainsworth said. ‘‘I appreciate the information, Mr. Crenshaw. Do you have anything more to add to it?’’

Crenshaw shook his head. ‘‘No, that’s it, I guess.’’

‘‘Right,’’ Ainsworth said. ‘‘Then perhaps you’ll excuse me while I talk to these ladies. And don’t talk about what you’ve told me to anyone. Don’t go anywhere near Mr. Dumont, either.’’ He stared hard at Crenshaw to emphasize his point.

Crenshaw paled slightly. ‘‘Sure,’’ he said. He moved around Ainsworth toward the door. ‘‘Thanks for the coffee, ladies.’’ He opened the door and disappeared through it, closing it softly behind him.

Ainsworth turned his attention to me. ‘‘Now, Mrs. Diamond, what was it you wanted to show me that you didn’t want Crenshaw to see?’’

I gave the deputy a brief smile before I stood up from the sofa. ‘‘It’s right here,’’ I said, turning slightly and pointing downward at the space between the cushion and the arm of the sofa.

Deputy Jordan stepped forward and peered down as I moved aside. She grasped the cushion and pulled it up, setting it down on top of the other cushion. The card fell over, faceup, and the deputy stared at it for a moment.

‘‘It’s a card, sir,’’ she said, turning to face her superior. ‘‘The king of spades.’’

Ainsworth frowned. ‘‘When you called me, you said it was about a playing card. So why is this card so important?’’

‘‘Someone hid it in our sofa, and it’s got what looks like blood on it,’’ I said.

Without saying another word, Jordan pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. When someone answered, she requested a crime scene technician to come collect some evidence.

Ainsworth walked over to the sofa and squatted to get a better look at the card.

‘‘That does look like a possible bloodstain,’’ he said as he stood up. ‘‘Did any of you touch it?’’

‘‘I did,’’ I said, ‘‘before I realized it could be evidence. After that, I handled it with a tissue.’’

‘‘Did one of you put it here?’’ Ainsworth stared at each of us in turn.

‘‘Certainly not,’’ Marylou said with a big frown.

‘‘Of course not,’’ Sophie said.

‘‘No,’’ I said, ‘‘but we think we know who did.’’

‘‘And that would be?’’ Ainsworth arched an eyebrow at me.

‘‘Paula Trowbridge,’’ I said, ‘‘when she was here yesterday morning with Marylou.’’

‘‘She was alone once for a couple of minutes,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘She could have done it then, I suppose.’’

‘‘But to be fair,’’ Sophie said, with a quick glance at me, ‘‘someone with a passkey could have come in here and put it in the sofa.’’

Ainsworth didn’t respond to that gambit. He started to speak, but a knock at the door interrupted him.

Deputy Jordan went to the door and admitted a fellow officer. She brought him over to the sofa and explained the situation. First, he took some pictures with a digital camera. Putting away the camera, he pulled on a pair of thin cotton gloves, picked the card up by pressing his fingers against two edges of the card, and dropped the king of spades into a clear envelope. He labeled the envelope with a marker. He conferred in undertones with Jordan near the door to the suite before exiting.

We had waited in silence until he was gone.

‘‘Have you counted the cards that were on the table next door?’’

Ainsworth stared at me for a moment before turning to Jordan. ‘‘Well?’’ was all he said.

‘‘No, sir,’’ Jordan replied. ‘‘I don’t think they’ve been counted. But I’ll make sure they are now.’’

Ainsworth nodded at her, and she left the suite, presumably to count the cards herself or oversee it.

‘‘I’m sure you must have a theory about that card,’’ Ainsworth said, addressing me.

‘‘Yes,’’ I said, ‘‘but this is going to take a little while.’’ Deputy Jordan must not have passed along my information about the history of playing cards. That was annoying, but I couldn’t waste time now being irritated.

Ainsworth shook his head, but before he spoke, I held up a hand. ‘‘I know you’re extremely busy, Deputy, but this is really very important. Please, sit down, and let me explain.’’

He didn’t roll his eyes, but I figured he must have wanted to. Instead, he replaced the sofa cushion, motioned for me to take a seat, and sat down once I was seated.

‘‘Go ahead,’’ he said.

‘‘I bought a book about the history of bridge,’’ I said, and I could see the deputy’s eyes beginning to glaze over. ‘‘There’s a section on the history of playing cards, and who the face cards represent.’’

He perked up at that. He nodded.

‘‘I won’t give you the long version,’’ I said. I explained the two systems and the names of the various persons each card represented. The whole time I talked, Marylou and Sophie watched the deputy closely, with the occasional glance at me.

‘‘So the queen of diamonds could mean Rachel,’’ Ainsworth said. ‘‘Jacob’s second wife, right?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ I said.

‘‘And that could mean Paula Trowbridge.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ I said again.

‘‘Who is this Argine?’’ Ainsworth asked.

‘‘They’re really not sure,’’ I said, ‘‘but it could be an anagram of the Latin word for ‘queen,’
regina
.’’ I paused for a moment. ‘‘I found out today that Lorraine Trowbridge’s middle name is Regina, and according to her son, Avery used it as kind of a nickname for her.’’

‘‘Basically, then, if what you say about the card is right, Trowbridge was trying to tell us one of his wives killed him,’’ Ainsworth said. ‘‘I suppose it’s possible. We know he didn’t die immediately. He might have been able to pick up a card.’’

His cell phone rang, and he got up from the sofa. ‘‘Excuse me, ladies.’’ He strode over to a corner of the room to answer the call.

We could hear him speaking, but the words were unintelligible, the conversation brief. He snapped his phone shut and returned to the sofa.

‘‘There were only fifty-one cards at the crime scene,’’ Ainsworth said, ‘‘counting the one in the victim’s hand.’’

‘‘So it looks like the king of spades came from the same deck,’’ Sophie said.

‘‘Yeah,’’ Ainsworth said, ‘‘it sure looks like it.’’ He turned to me. ‘‘So what about the king of spades?’’

‘‘King David,’’ I said promptly.

‘‘And that means?’’ Ainsworth was clearly puzzled.

‘‘Think of David and Bathsheba,’’ I said. ‘‘Or David and Goliath.’’ I waited, wondering whether Ainsworth would draw the same conclusions that we had.

Marylou started to speak, but I held up my hand. She subsided, nodding.

‘‘David and Bathsheba,’’ the deputy said. ‘‘Paula Trowbridge was married to Basil Dumont before she married Trowbridge, right?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ I said.

‘‘So maybe Dumont wanted to kill Trowbridge for taking his wife away from him. Is that what you’re saying?’’

‘‘It’s a possibility,’’ I said, ‘‘but I don’t think that’s really the motive.’’

‘‘David and Goliath, then,’’ Ainsworth said. ‘‘Trowbridge was Goliath, because he had a bigger name in the bridge world. David is Dumont, who was jealous and wanted to take his place. David the giant killer. Dumont.’’

I could see that this line of reasoning appealed to him.

‘‘Okay, then,’’ Ainsworth said, ‘‘if the king of spades is supposed to point the finger at Dumont, how did it get in here?’’

‘‘I’ve thought about that,’’ I said, ‘‘and I think what happened is this. When I went into the room next door, I think Paula Trowbridge was already in there, in the bedroom. She might have heard me and hid. She found the body before I did, saw that Avery was holding the king of spades in his hand. She knew what he was trying to tell us, and she put the queen of diamonds in his hand instead, to throw suspicion on someone else.’’

‘‘Even herself?’’ Ainsworth cocked an eyebrow in skepticism.

‘‘I doubt she thought of it that way,’’ I said.

‘‘I’m sure she didn’t,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘Paula must have been thinking of the queen as Argine, the anagram of
regina
. She certainly would have known that Lorraine’s middle name is Regina, and that Avery used it as a nickname for his first wife.’’

‘‘That makes sense,’’ Ainsworth said, nodding. ‘‘And it’s plausible, I guess, that Paula Trowbridge could have been in the room before you got there.’’

I nodded. ‘‘I heard her behind me, but I couldn’t swear she came into the room from the hall. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I really do think she was in the bedroom. She simply waited until my back was to her before she came up to me, pretending she had just come into the suite.’’

‘‘This sure is a crazy case,’’ Ainsworth said, shaking his head.

‘‘I suppose we’ve made it more complicated,’’ I said, ‘‘telling you all this about the meaning of the cards, and so on.’’

Ainsworth laughed. ‘‘Yeah, you have, but I wouldn’t have known anything about it if you hadn’t told me. It’s weird, but I’m danged if I don’t believe you’re right. It all has to mean something. The question is, how do I know which interpretation is the right one?’’

Before Sophie, Marylou, or I could respond to him, someone banged loudly on our door. Once again, Sophie went to answer it. She barely had time to step out of the way before Paula Trowbridge pushed the door so hard it banged against the doorstop and shuddered there. Paula strode into the room, Basil Dumont in tow. He didn’t look too happy to be here.

‘‘What on earth?’’ Marylou said, standing up. ‘‘Paula, what is the matter with you? You could have hurt Sophie.’’

Paula didn’t pay Marylou the least attention. She focused on Ainsworth. She got right up in his face and said, ‘‘I want you to go arrest that man right this minute. He tried to kill Basil, and if I hadn’t been there, he would have!"

Chapter 27

‘‘What man are you talking about?’’ Ainsworth remained immobile as he stared down at Paula.

‘‘Haskell Crenshaw,’’ Paula said, breathing heavily from the combination of anger and exertion. ‘‘Who else? That man had the nerve to attack Basil, and I want you to arrest him for attempted murder.’’

We all stared at Basil Dumont, who flushed under our scrutiny. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t bleeding or clutching any part of his anatomy in pain. Perhaps his pride was aching, but that was about all.

‘‘Ma’am, Mr. Dumont looks okay to me,’’ Ainsworth said in a placatory tone. ‘‘Mr. Dumont, did Mr. Crenshaw strike you?’’

‘‘No, Officer,’’ Dumont said. ‘‘He didn’t lay a hand on me.’’

Ainsworth regarded Paula stonily, and after a moment, Paula had the grace to blush. ‘‘Maybe I was a little excited,’’ she said, ‘‘but Crenshaw did threaten Basil. I heard him.’’

‘‘Did he threaten you, Mr. Dumont?’’ Ainsworth addressed the alleged victim.

Dumont sighed. ‘‘All he said was that he wasn’t going to let me get away with it. Then he called me a few nasty names, and that was the extent of it.’’