Read Before I Say Good-Bye Online

Authors: Mary Higgins Clark

Before I Say Good-Bye (36 page)

“No, I am not. And I’m also not a fool. I know you are helping either Adam or Winifred by trying to get the safe-deposit key that was inadvertently left in Adam’s jacket.”

I’ve hit home, Nell thought. Bonnie Wilson was moving her head from side to side, not so much in denial as in despair.

“Only two people would have any use for that key—Adam or Winifred. I hope it is Winifred that you are working with, and that Adam is the one who is dead. I cringe to think that for more than three years I might have been living and breathing and eating and sleeping with someone who could deliberately take three lives, and arrange a fire that took the life of a homeless woman.

“On a different, but important level, I cringe to think that I gave up the career I wanted all my life just to please a cheat and a thief—that Adam was both those things I know with certainty. I can only pray that he was not also a murderer.”

Nell reached into her pocket and took out the safe-deposit key. “Bonnie, I believe that you know where Adam or Winifred is hiding. You may not realize that if you have assisted either of them in any way, then you have become an accessory to multiple murder. Take this key. Give it to whichever one is still alive. Let him or her think that it’s safe to go to that bank in White Plains. It’s your only chance for leniency.”

“What do you mean,
‘think
that it’s safe,’ Nell?”

She had not heard the footsteps approaching from behind. She turned and looked up in shock and horror.

Adam was standing over her.

eighty-seven

D
AN
M
INOR
glanced at the window, hoping to see that the slashing rainfall was letting up. Unfortunately it was still pouring, beating against the glass, the rain creating a virtual waterfall. His grandmother used to tell him that when it rained like this, the angels were weeping. He found that an especially ominous thought today.

Where did Nell go
? he kept asking himself.

They were all gathered in Mac’s office. He was there with Mac and Gert and Liz and the two detectives, who had just arrived.

Nell’s doorman had confirmed that she arrived home at about three o’clock and went back out shortly after four. That meant she must have heard the message I left for her, he thought. Why didn’t she call me back?

The elevator operator said she had seemed upset.

When Jack Sclafani and George Brennan had
arrived, they were introduced to Liz and Gert. Then Sclafani took over. “Let’s start by talking about the homeless woman who reported the theft of one of her bags only hours before the mansion fire. We’ve been able to verify her story with the police officer she stopped that day. So we believe that she was not the one who set the fire at the Vandermeer mansion.

“I don’t think we’ll ever have absolute proof, but we believe very strongly that Winifred Johnson paid Jimmy Ryan, one of the people who lost his life in the boat explosion, to set that fire, and to make it look as if a homeless person had done it.”

“That means my mother—” Dan interrupted.

“That means that your mother has been cleared as a suspect.”

“Do you think Winifred Johnson was doing this on her own, or was she acting on instructions from Adam?” Mac asked.

“We assume it was all done for Adam Cauliff.”

“But I don’t understand,” Gert said. “How did he stand to benefit from the fire?”

“It was because he had bought the Kaplan property right next door to the old mansion. He was smart enough to know that it would increase enormously in value if the mansion was gone and the property therefore no longer restricted by the building’s landmark status. He then would approach Peter Lang, who bought the old Vandermeer property, and offer him a deal. He was also arrogant enough to think that he could force himself on the developer as architect for the project.”

“According to the widow, a man phoned Jimmy Ryan’s home the night of the fire with instructions to
cancel the job,” Brennan explained. “That’s one of the reasons we believe both Adam and Winifred were in on planning the fire together. They may just have learned that the Vandermeer mansion had been removed from landmark status that same day. Thus there was no longer any need to set the fire.”

“Well, it didn’t do either one of them much good,” Liz commented. “Since both of them were blown to bits on that boat.”

“We don’t think so,” Brennan told them. Noting their astonished expressions, he said, “A witness claimed to see someone in a wet suit dive off the boat an instant before the explosion. Two bodies have not been accounted for—those of Adam Cauliff and Winifred Johnson.”

“Thanks to some sleuthing by your granddaughter, Congressman,” Sclafani said, picking up the story, “we have gained access to a safe-deposit box shared by a man and a woman who called themselves Harry and Rhoda Reynolds. The box contained doctored passports and various other forms of identification. We haven’t seen the actual contents of the box, but copies of the pictures on the passports were faxed in to our offices. And while both the man and the woman are somewhat disguised, it is clear that they are pictures of Winifred Johnson and Adam Cauliff.”

“The box also contained nearly three hundred thousand dollars in cash and several million dollars worth of bearer bonds and other securities,” Detective Brennan added.

A long silence followed these disclosures, broken finally by Gert, who asked, “How on earth could they accumulate that much money?”

“It’s really not that hard with the kind of projects Walters and Arsdale handle. They have billings of nearly eight hundred million in their various jobs on their books right now. Also, we think this was something that Winifred and Adam had been planning for some time.”

Looking at the distress on Mac’s face, Sclafani said, “I’m afraid your granddaughter married a pretty despicable character, Congressman. It’s a sorry history and it’s all in this report. You can go over it at your leisure. I’m sorry for Ms. MacDermott. She’s a fine woman and a very smart one. I know this will be a shock for her, but she’s resilient, and in time she will get over it.”

“Will she be joining us?” Brennan asked. “We’d like to thank her for all her help.”

“We don’t know where Nell is,” Gert told him, her tone a mixture of distress and irritation, “and no one will listen to me, but I’m worried sick about her. Something isn’t right. I could tell when I talked to her on the phone earlier this afternoon that she was distracted. She didn’t sound at all like herself. She said she’d just come back from Westchester. So why would she go running out again on a day like this?”

There
is
something wrong, Dan thought, agonized by his concern. Nell is in trouble.

Brennan and Sclafani looked at each other. “You have no idea where she is?” Sclafani asked.

“That bothers you,” Mac snapped. “Why?”

“Because Ms. MacDermott obviously found the other key to the safe-deposit box and was smart enough to investigate a bank near the nursing home where Winifred Johnson’s mother is a resident. If she has figured out where either Winifred or Adam may be hiding,
and tries to contact them, she is putting herself in grave danger. Anyone who, with cold deliberation, blows up a boat with several people on it, is capable of doing whatever it takes, including committing more murders, to avoid detection.”

“It
has
to be Winifred who swam away from the boat,” Gert said, her voice trembling. “I mean, Bonnie Wilson channeled to Adam. He spoke to Nell from the other side, so he has to be dead.”

“He
what
?” Sclafani asked.

“Gert, for God sake!” Mac exploded.

“Mac, I know you don’t believe in this, but Nell did. She was even following Adam’s advice that she give his clothes to the thrift shop. I just confirmed that with her this afternoon. She’s got them all packed up and is bringing them in tomorrow, and Bonnie Wilson even volunteered to help me unpack them. I told Nell that. Bonnie’s been so helpful through all this. The only thing is, I was surprised that she either forgot or didn’t tell me that she once had met Adam at one of my parties. I found a picture of the two of them together. I would have thought she might have mentioned that.”

“You say she told Ms. MacDermott to give Adam’s clothes away, and then wanted to help unpack them,” Brennan exclaimed, jumping up. “I’ll bet anything she was trying to get at that key. She’s in on this some way, whether she’s in cahoots with Adam or with Winifred.”

“Dear God,” Liz Hanley said. “I thought he actually had materialized.”

They stared at her.

“What do you mean, Liz?” Mac asked.

“I saw Adam’s face appear in the mirror in Bonnie Wilson’s apartment. I thought she must have channeled him, but maybe he really was there.”

That’s
where Nell went, Dan thought, to that Wilson woman’s apartment. I’m sure of it.

Sick with dread, he looked around, seeing the sudden fear he felt reflected in the faces of everyone in the room.

eighty-eight

A
DAM WAS STANDING OVER HER.

Despite the dim light, Nell could make him out. It was Adam, but one side of his face was blistered and peeling, and both his right hand and foot were heavily bandaged. She could also see his eyes, which were filled with rage.

“You found the key and you called the police,” he said hoarsely. “After
all
my planning, after
three years
of putting up with that stupid, insipid woman, after nearly losing my own life because you gave her the wrong jacket and I had to search for her damn pocketbook—after
all that,
plus the pain of scalding burns, I have
nothing.”

He raised his left hand. He was grasping something heavy in it, but Nell could not make it out. She tried to get up, but he shoved her back with his bandaged hand. She saw a look of intense pain shoot across his face as she heard Bonnie scream, “Adam. Don’t.
Please don’t!”

Then a stunning, smashing pain exploded on the side of her head, and she felt herself falling, falling . . .

•   •   •

F
ROM FAR AWAY
Nell heard a strange sound, a mixture of moaning and sighing. Her head hurt so much. Her hair and face were wet and sticky. Gradually she realized that she was the one making the sound.

“My head hurts,” she whispered. Then she remembered: Adam was alive. He was here.

Someone was touching her? Who was it? What was happening?

“Tighter. Tie it tighter!” It was Adam’s voice.

Her legs, why did they hurt? Nell wondered.

She managed to open her eyes enough to see that Bonnie was bending over her, weeping. In her hands she had a ball of heavy twine. She’s tying up my legs, Nell thought.

“Her hands. Now do her hands.” It was Adam’s voice again—harsh and cruel.

She was on a bed and had been rolled onto her stomach. Bonnie was pulling her hands behind her, wrapping the twine around them.

Nell tried to speak, but she could not make the words that were in her mind reach her lips.
Don’t do this, Bonnie,
she wanted to say.
You only have a few minutes of life left. Your aura is completely dark now. Don’t go with more blood on your hands.

Bonnie was pulling her wrists together, but then Nell felt her press her hand. She continued wrapping the twine, but more loosely now.

She wants to help me, Nell thought.

“Hurry up,” Adam snapped

Slowly, Nell turned her head. She could see a pile of crumpled newspapers on the floor. Adam was holding
a candle against them. The first curl of flame sprang up. Oh God, he was setting the room on fire! She realized with stark, sudden clarity just what was happening.

“See how you like it, Nell,” Adam said. “I want you to feel the pain, just like I did. And it was all because of you. It was
your
fault. Your fault that I didn’t have the key. And then, looking like this, I couldn’t even go to the bank and try to convince them to let me into the locked box. And all because of you and that stupid woman, bringing me the wrong jacket.”

“Adam, why . . . ?” Nell tried to speak.

“Why? Do you really have to ask me why? Don’t you understand anything?” His rage now was tinged with disgust. “I was never good enough for you, never good enough to mix with your precious grandfather’s cronies. Don’t you realize that when you ran for office, it would be all over for me? There were some things in my past that would have been a little embarrassing to a congressional candidate. If you hadn’t insisted on being Mac’s little girl, doing every little thing he wanted, I might have had a chance. But with you determined to run for office, I knew it was over. Don’t you understand what a feast the media would have had, looking into my background? I just couldn’t let that happen.”

Adam was kneeling next to the bed now, his face close to hers. “And so, Nell, you forced my hand. You and that simpering Jimmy Ryan, and Winifred with her wet, droopy eyes and her dry, cracked lips. Well, that’s okay. It was time for me to go anyway. Time for me to make a whole new start.” He stood up and looked down at her. “So what if I’ve only got a little left to start over with now—I’ll make it. But
you
won’t. Good-bye, Nell.”

“Adam, you can’t kill her,” Bonnie shrieked, clutching his arm as the flames spread.

“Bonnie, you’re either in this with me or you’re not. It’s your choice: you can stay here with Nell, or you can walk out that door with me.”

Just then the doorbell started to ring, its persistent, piercing sound reverberating through the small apartment. Smoke was filling the room as the wall behind the papers caught fire, and from the outside hallway a voice shouted, “Police, open up.”

Adam ran into the foyer and looked at the front door. Then he turned back and looked at Nell. “Hear them, Nell? They’re trying to help you. Well, you know what? They won’t get in here in time. I’m going to make sure of that.” He raced to the door and checked the double locks and the dead bolt. Coming back into the bedroom, he closed the door to that room behind him, turned the key in the lock, yanked the key out and, with his shoulder, shoved the dresser in front of the door. He pulled some newspapers that hadn’t caught fire yet from the pile and threw the lighted candle on top of them.

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