War and Peas (9 page)

Jane nodded. "But if it was Caspar or Georgia, it might have been just sheer frustration that they weren't able to change the will. Or maybe they imagine that Georgia could divert some of the money to the two of them if Regina was out of the way."

“What do you mean?"

“I'm not sure." Jane thought for a moment. "Okay. What if Georgia thought that without Regina in the way, her toy boy Derek would be director and, as a member of the board, she could get his salary kicked way up and get her hands on part of it herself?”

Shelley shook her head. "Not with Babs McDonald and an accountant on the board. Don't you imagine the board keeps a close eye on the finances?"

“Mmm. Bad example, I guess. What if it's not the money at all?"

“What else?"

“Well, we were talking about passion. Regina was engaged, you know. And we've never even laid eyes on this Whitney guy. Surely an engagement involves some degree of passion. And didn't Sharlene say the engagement had been an on-and-off sort of thing? It might have been a rather tumultuous relationship."

“You might have a point," Shelley said. "Isn't it odd that nobody's said much about him? Everybody here must have known Whitney. He's the architect of the new building. He must have attended board meetings, surveyed this building pretty thoroughly, and so forth."

“That is strange, now that you mention it. It's as if he hasn't made an impression of any kind.”

Shelley stood up. "We'd better get on with something more productive than this, Jane. I hardly know where to start down here. Let me think about it overnight. Let's go back up and finish the room I was almost done with.' She picked up her clipboard and Jane grabbed a book to serve as one.

“Jane? Shelley?" a faint voice called from the doorway.

They wound their way back through the artificial hallways of stored items and found Sharlene standing at the doorway, shading her eyes against the bare light bulb overhead.

“What's up, Sharlene?" Jane asked.

“How long have you been down here?" Sharlene replied.

Jane glanced at her watch. "About an hour. Why?"

“You didn't come upstairs during the board meeting?"

“No. Why do you ask?"

“I was hoping you'd seen something. Oh, this is so awful. Somebody's been in Ms. Palmer's office, rummaging through things like mad."

“During the board meeting, you mean?" Jane asked.

“I think so."

“Then you know at least a couple of people that it wasn't," Shelley said briskly.

“Well, not really. Babs went out to get some financial statements from the files. Tom went to the bathroom. Georgia left to make a phone call—"

“Wait," Jane said. "Start at the beginning. How do you know this happened during the board meeting?”

Sharlene thought for a minute. "I guess I really don't. I went into her office this morning, to put some flowers on her desk. I guess it was stupid, but I saw them for sale on a street corner on the way to work and it seemed a nice thing—"

“It was nice," Shelley said. "You don't have to explain yourself on that score. But what time was that?"

“Nine or so."

“And did you lock the door when you came out?" Jane asked.

“I think so. Yes. Well, maybe."

“So anybody might have gone in there anytime today?"

“Not really. There are always people in the staff area — the tour guides on their breaks and such. Somebody would have seen if anyone else went inside."

“Wasn't that true during the board meeting, too?" Shelley asked.

Sharlene shook her head. "I don't think so. There weren't any scheduled tours this afternoon and there were only the two volunteers and they were sitting out in the lobby the whole time, chatting with the woman who was working the gift shop. I already asked them."

“Was anything taken from the office?" Jane asked.

“I don't know. It's such a mess," Sharlene said. "It'll take me forever to straighten it out. I better start—"

“No," Jane said. "Let's go up and get the room locked right now and call the police."

“The police! Why?" She stared at Jane for a minute, then added, "Oh, of course. How dumb of me.”

Fortunately, Babs McDonald
had
known about the vandalism sooner and thought faster. By the time Shelley, Jane, and Sharlene emerged from the basement, Babs had locked up Regina's office and phoned Mel. She'd also corralled everyone from the board meeting back into the boardroom and shooed the three of them in as well before taking a chair from which she could keep an eye on the violated office through the open door.

“That nice young man who's a friend of yours was on his way over anyway," Babs said to Jane. "I don't believe either of you has met Mr. Abbot, have you? Whitney Abbot, our architect. This
is
Jane Jeffry and Shelley Nowack. They're doing the preliminary data entry on the museum contents.”

Jane's first impression of him was of cool perfection. Perfect teeth, perfectly groomed John Kennedy hair, a perfectly fitted charcoal-gray, three-piece suit without a wrinkle or a speck of lint (or cat hair, which any dark garment Jane owned was sure to be blighted by) anywhere. He wasn't a big man and probably hadn't stood more than an inch or two taller than Regina, but he looked fit in an expensive handball-and sauna way.

He shook their hands — Jane noticed his fingernails were immaculate and manicured to a subtle gloss — and said, "That's a big job. We're all grateful." He spoke quite formally.

“Ms. Palmer's plan makes it much easier than it might otherwise have been," Shelley said, matching his formality. "We didn't know her, but we're very sorry about her death. It was terrible for everyone and, I'm sure, especially so for you.”

He nodded. "An unimaginable loss.”

The remark wasn't so much cold as it was meaningless, Jane thought. But then, they were strangers to him. Why should he pour out his heart? Perhaps he was still in a state of shock. Or perhaps he was just a very reserved person who was unaccustomed to expressing his feelings freely.

There was a moment's awkward silence before the entire group turned at the sound of Caspar Snellen's voice in the doorway. "Where is everybody?" He looked around, perplexed. "What are you all doing in here? Having a wake or something?”

This tasteless remark seemed to just hang in the air, obscenely, for a long moment until Babs took charge. "Caspar, you'd better come in.

We're waiting for the police and I'm sure they'll want a word or two with you."

“Me? Why me?"

“Because you're here," Babs said curtly. "And Regina's office has been trashed."

“Oh, no, you don't! You're not sticking me with it. I didn't like the bi — her, but I didn't kill her and I haven't violated her office.”

Georgia rose and took his arm, hissing, "Shut up, Caspar."

“Why should I? This whole gang would love to blame everything on me, and you're playing footsie with them.”

Jane observed the others. Whitney Abbot was simply staring at the brother and sister, but there was a muscle twitching in his jaw. So there was some emotion in him after all. Lisa was looking away, out through the small, dusty window that overlooked the back parking lot, as if she couldn't bear the sight of Caspar. Babs was shaking her head in disgust, and Jumper was regarding Caspar with interest, as though taking mental notes. Derek Delano seemed immune from the emotions of the others and was frankly ogling Sharlene, who was wringing her hands in despair and looking unintentionally vulnerable and sexy.

“What are you doing here, Snellen?" Jumper asked.

Caspar whirled on him. "Jeez, Cable! What are you today?" He glanced contemptuously at Jumper's black leather jacket and pants.

Jumper grinned. "A lot of things. An attorney. A witness. A member of the board. And a man with a few questions. I might point out to you that all of the rest of us have a good reason for being in the building. But you don't."

“I've got the right to be here. I paid my stupid fee," Caspar said childishly.

“Your fee doesn't entitle you to be in the staff area," Babs said.

“I'm
entitled
to be anywhere I damned well please," Caspar snapped. "This is my great-grandfather's building and his money you're all spending like it's water. Money that should be, and will be, mine. Just because that Palmer woman sucked up to my batty old aunt—"

“Caspar!" Georgia all but slapped her hand over his mouth. "That's enough!”

Surprisingly, he clammed up and looked at her with something that might have been fear.

“Georgia," Babs said, "take him out into the hall and wait with him there.”

Georgia bridled at being given an order, but apparently decided it was a good idea just the same. Gripping his flabby arm, she shoved her brother out of the room.

“Disgusting man," Babs muttered.

“Why is he still free to roam around?" Whitney asked Jumper in a voice harsh with self-control. "What's the matter with the police that they haven't got him behind bars? And speaking of the police, when are they going to allow us to have the funeral? This is intolerable."

“They say they can't release the body until all their tests have been completed," Jumper replied. "Maybe by Thursday.”

Lisa suddenly put her face in her hands and gave a strangled sob. This so disconcerted all of them that they froze for a moment. Then Babs went over to her and led her out of the room.

Sharlene swayed a bit and sat down at the board table. Derek sat down beside her and put his arm around her. She tried to pull away from his touch and as she did so, Jumper rose and said menacingly, "Take your hands off her, Delano."

“Jesus!" Derek said, making an elaborate show of moving away from Sharlene. "What's the matter with everyone? Can't a person even comfort somebody in distress?"

“Save your comfort for Georgia," Jumper said. "Sharlene, come with me and I'll get you a warm Coke out of that foul machine.”

They departed, leaving only Jane, Shelley, Whitney, and Derek. "So much for keeping all the suspects together," Derek said with a laugh. He rose and shot his cuffs. "Well, I've got work to do. I'll be in my office if the police ever show up.”

Whitney, apparently in an effort to ignore them all, had booted up the computer and was looking over the information Jane had spent the morning entering. He was nodding approval. When Derek had gone, he closed the file and sat back in his chair wearily.

“Do you need any help planning the funeral?" Shelley asked.

For the first time, he smiled. "Thank you. No, I don't think so. Lisa's taking charge. She's an organizer and has known Regina much longer than I have. Knew her favorite music and flowers and so forth."

“What about Regina's family?" Jane asked.

“She hasn't much family left. Her parents are gone and she was an only child. Just a few cousins and an aunt and uncle in D.C.," he said. "Her uncle is a senator. Her late father was a congressman."

“I had no idea she was from such a prominent family," Jane said.

He merely nodded, as if it were a given that any woman he'd considering marrying would have to be. Or perhaps, Jane thought, she was misjudging him just because he looked so overly well bred.

“Doesn't always hold true, does it?" she mused. "Good background, I mean," she added, glancing at the doorway through which Caspar and Georgia Snellen had passed moments earlier.

“Bad apples," Whitney said curtly. "Happens in the best families."

“When were you and Regina to have been married?" Shelley asked.

He looked offended at the bluntness of the question and answered stiffly, "We hadn't set a date yet."

“Oh, I must have misunderstood," Shelley said. "I thought you were to have announced your engagement at the ground-breaking."

“You didn't misunderstand. That was our intention. We just hadn't decided on a date."

“I guess Regina wasn't in any hurry to get married," Shelley remarked. "What with having a good job and her own home and—"

“If you'll excuse me?" he said, flipping off the computer and rising. "I believe I'll wait by the front door."

“That's a pissed-off architect," Jane said when he was out of earshot. "What did you do that for?"

“I just wanted to get some idea of what he was like, and he's wrapped in so many layers of social respectability, I figured making him mad was the only way."

“Well, the making-him-mad part sure worked. What did we learn?"

“That he's a snob."

“Right. So?"

“I don't know. What if he found out that Regina wasn't what she was supposed to be? Maybe she was from the wrong side of the tracks."

“Was she?"

“I'm being theoretical, Jane."

“Well, theoretically, then, I imagine he'd break the engagement rather than kill her. And it probably wouldn't have been hard to break it off. Sharlene said Regina was hesitant anyway."

“Yes. And that really got under his skin, didn't it?"

“Well, it would, Shelley. If he really loved her, which we have to assume he did — in his own upper-crusty way — it must have been painful that she wasn't snatching the ring from his hand and shopping for a wedding gown."

“But why wasn't she, Jane? He's a catch. Rich, good-looking, respectable. I've seen his picture in the society section of the paper any number of times. Always heading up one charity ball or another."

“Maybe she wasn't madly in love with him."

“Then why would she bother with him at all?" Shelley asked. "She was an attractive, intelligent woman; had a good job, social position of her own — if that mattered to her. I admit I didn't know her at all well, but she didn't strike me as the type who was panting after marriage. She was well into her thirties. If she'd wanted to marry, she must have had plenty of chances before."