Cruel as the Grave (18 page)

“That accounts for everybody, then,” Maggie said, running over the list of people in her mind. Suddenly she stopped. “No, there’s one other person we haven’t mentioned.” She looked questioningly at Helena and Ernie, waiting to see whether they’d come up with the name.

The two older women traded interrogative glances, then faced Maggie again, shaking their heads. “Claudine’s mother,” she reminded them. “Where was she while all this was going on?”

“Lorraine!” Helena cried. “You’re right! We’d forgotten all about her.” She frowned, thinking furiously. Then her face cleared. “But she wasn’t here that weekend. One of her elderly aunts was in the hospital in Memphis and wasn’t expected to live, so Lorraine had gone up there to be with her.”

“Then that’s one less suspect to worry about,” Maggie replied. “Although we know she couldn’t have murdered my grandfather, and I’m convinced that the same person murdered them both.” She fingered her glass for a moment. “Now, when do we want to talk to Lavinia?”

After a brief discussion they agreed to wait until after dinner that evening before they accosted her. Secretly Maggie was relieved as she made her way upstairs; she wanted to postpone the moment for a while. Now that they were approaching what seemed like a solution, she was oddly reluctant to press ahead with their rather amateurish search for the truth. The family as a whole would be vastly relieved to have the matter settled, and having Lavinia as the guilty party would make things that much easier.
Still,
Maggie thought,
I don't relish having to corner her.
As far as she was concerned, Lavinia’s bark was probably just as bad as her bite, and either one could be painful.

Sitting out in the afternoon heat had left Maggie feeling less than fresh, so she decided to soak in the huge bathtub for a while before
getting
ready for dinner. As she relaxed in the warm water, her mind wandered lazily back over the afternoon’s conversation with Helena and Ernie.

Everything seemed to suggest Lavinia as a culprit in Magnolia’s death. The important point, however, was this: Had Lavinia told her sister about the argument simply out of malice, knowing that the woman would be distressed by it, or had she done it in order to maneuver Magnolia into a vulnerable position where murder might easily be concealed as a tragic accident? Did someone else come along and take advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself, after Lavinia had done her dirty work?

In other words, thought Maggie, to what degree is Lavinia guilty? They were perhaps being careless in their reasoning by assuming Lavinia guilty without more than the woman’s own waspish personality as evidence, admittedly circumstantial. But who else would have, or could have, told Magnolia about the argument?

Helena could have,
she thought abruptly. What she knew of her great-aunt argued against her doing such a thing, but it was within the realm of possibility. The time factor, however, was important. Magnolia had to have had time to make it down the hall to the head of the stairs after someone told her about the argument.
How weak had she been?
Maggie wondered. Was she moving so slowly that it had taken her twenty minutes to reach the top of the stairs? In that case, Helena would have to have been the one who told her.

But then Harold or Lavinia would probably have seen Magnolia in the hallway when they went up. She sat up quickly in the tub, causing the water to splash around the sides. She reached for a washcloth to scrub her face as she considered the implications of a new idea.

Harold had gone upstairs right after Lavinia. He admitted to knowing that Gerard and Henry were arguing. What if he had been the one to go to Magnolia? He could have done it as easily as Lavinia. Neither Helena nor Ernie had mentioned this possibility, and Maggie hadn’t thought of it at the time. Was Helena protecting her brother by focusing their line of questioning upon Lavinia? Maggie wasn’t sure, but she thought it important to question Harold at some point herself, after they questioned Lavinia.

Maggie stared vaguely at the water draining out of the tub. Finally she roused herself to reach for a towel and dried herself. Slipping on a robe, she unpinned her hair and brushed it out with vigorous strokes. The bath had refreshed her body, but her mind still buzzed with the urgency of the questions she wanted answered.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a comfortable and flattering dark green cotton dress, Maggie knocked at her father’s door. Receiving no reply, she made her way downstairs to the dining room, where she found the rest of the family beginning to wander in. Quickly she sat down between Gerard and Ernie, noticing as she did so an empty space beside Adrian. She thought he looked slightly disappointed as he glanced her way. Her stomach gave a queer little lurch, but she would have felt awkward moving now. She stayed where she was, turning to offer a belated greeting to Ernie.

Lavinia and Claudine, the last to arrive, came in a few minutes later. Claudine claimed the empty seat next to Adrian. Maggie watched as she leaned toward him and whispered something to him. Then Maggie turned her head, staring down at her plate, as Adrian looked her way, his eyes unreadable.

As hands moved to begin passing dishes of steaming vegetables, Retty cleared her throat loudly to gain everyone’s attention.

“Before we begin,” she said, her voice quavering, “I have an announcement. Gerard and I have consulted with Arthur Latham, and Henry’s body has been released for burial. We’ve arranged the funeral for tomorrow afternoon at two. After the service, we’ll return here for the reading of Henry’s will. Lyle seemed to think we might as well go ahead with it, the... um... investigation notwithstanding.” Her announcement finished, Retty turned her attention to her plate. Her fork clinked shakily against the china.

The desultory conversation which had been going on before Retty’s announcement seemed suddenly to dry up. In silence they all passed dishes back and forth, and even the normally irrepressible Helena and Ernie had little to say. Gradually, however, the tension eased, and quiet conversation resumed. Maggie and Ernie discussed Maggie’s interest in the history of medieval women, and, blotting out the rest of the family, they talked comfortably for the remainder of the meal.

Eventually Retty stood up from her place at the head of the table. Ernie broke off in the middle of a point she had been making about Eleanor of Aquitaine when Retty cleared her throat to make another announcement. The other conversations ceased as everyone looked at the self-appointed head of the family.

“I’m spending the rest of the evening in my room,” she said. “You may all watch a movie, or do whatever you wish. I’ll see y’all in the morning.” Turning to her granddaughter, she said, “Sylvia, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to come up with me for a while.” She moved from the table toward the door with Sylvia trailing in her wake.

After the door shut behind the two women, the rest of the family pushed their chairs back from the table. “Well?” Claudine asked. “Is anyone in the mood for a movie?” Her tone indicated that she didn’t think much of the idea.

Seeing the general disinterest, she smiled tiredly, shrugged, then disappeared through the door, followed in quick succession by Harold and Gerard. Maggie looked suspiciously at Helena and Ernie as they moved toward Lavinia, who seemed disconcerted by the abrupt departures of the men. Maggie wondered whether either her cousin or her aunt had engineered the quick disappearing act of the men. Adrian had already departed unobtrusively for the kitchen. The four women were suddenly and efficiently alone.

“Lavinia.” Ernie spoke quietly, yet Lavinia’s head jerked sharply toward her. “We’d like to talk to you about something. Why don’t we go somewhere we can be a little more comfortable.” She grasped Lavinia’s arm and led her toward the door. Maggie and Helena followed behind.

Maggie had expected Lavinia to put up a fuss, but for whatever reason, she was going along with them docilely enough at the moment. Ernie steered them toward the entertainment room, which was smaller than the drawing room and better suited for their intended discussion.

She motioned Lavinia to one of the sofas at the side of the room and seated herself beside the object of their inquiry. Maggie and Helena moved two of the comfortable chairs close to the sofa so that they were all seated close to one another.

“Well, what’s this all about?” Lavinia snapped suddenly. “I don’t imagine you want to know my opinions on the state of the economy. What do you want?”

Ernie had apparently decided to take on the role of chief inquisitor. "We appreciate your directness, Lavinia, and we’ll return the favor. We want to talk about what happened in this house twenty-five years ago.”

“You mean Magnolia’s death?” Lavinia asked incredulously before Ernie could continue. “What the hell has that got to do with anything?”

Ernie replied, “We’re just a little curious about what went on that day, and we’d like to ask you some questions. Okay?”

Lavinia’s nose wrinkled in distaste, and with a slight shock Maggie recognized a gesture she herself used when she was irritated by someone or something. “Go ahead,” Lavinia responded grudgingly. “Although Maggie has already put me through one inquisition today.”

“Yes, we know.” Ernie was curt. “But what you didn’t tell Maggie was that you walked in on the argument Gerard and Henry were having the day Magnolia died.”

“So?” Lavinia’s tone was irritatingly dismissive. “Henry and Gerard never were together more than five minutes before they started arguing about something. That wasn’t any different.”

“Yes, there was a difference.” Ernie in her turn was triumphant, and Lavinia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Maggie and Helena watched the other two women with all the intensity of spectators at a wrestling match to see who would land the telling blow first.

“It was a little too much of a coincidence, don’t you think,” Ernie went on smugly, “that Magnolia just happened to come out of her room at that time and then fall down the stairs. She was weak, and the only way she would have gotten out of her bed was if someone had told her that Gerard and Henry were having a huge row again.”

Lavinia’s face turned a mottled red. “And I guess you three think I was the one who allegedly told her?” Seeing the answer only too clearly in the other women’s faces, Lavinia stood up in disgust. “I’ve had about enough of this.” She stepped between Maggie and Helena and headed for the door. No one made a move to stop her. Maggie couldn’t summon the nerve to say anything, and Helena and Ernie both seemed at a loss as well.

Halfway toward the door Lavinia whirled around. “So what if someone did tell her that Henry and Gerard were arguing? What was the harm in that?”

Helena replied tartly, “Because we think whoever told Magnolia about the argument made her fall down those stairs.”

Lavinia moved a few steps closer to the other women. Her face had drained of color, and for a moment Maggie feared the woman was going to faint. “You mean to tell me you think Magnolia was murdered?” She laughed weakly, unable to muster the scorn she obviously intended, when Helena nodded. “And I’ll bet you think I was the one who pushed her.” She advanced menacingly a step toward Helena, some of her strength returning. “I ought to yank your hair out, you bitch.”

Helena stood up angrily. “Just you try!”

The two women faced each other without flinching. Maggie looked nervously at Ernie, hoping her cousin would intervene. Ernie, however, sat on the sofa, watching the proceedings with great interest.

“What the hell is going on here?”

A new voice from the direction of the doorway made them all look around. Claudine stood there, a frown on her face. “What is going on?” she repeated as she moved toward Lavinia and Helena.

“Lavinia was just answering a few questions,” Ernie replied coolly. “Nothing to get worked up about.”

Claudine grimaced. “It doesn’t look that way to me.” She took Lavinia’s arm. “I think you’d better go upstairs now. Your blood pressure doesn’t need to get any higher.” She then looked sternly at Helena. “And I think you ought to calm down a little, too.” She herded the docile Lavinia toward the door as Helena, her anger deflated, sat down in her chair.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Claudine promised from the doorway, “and then I want to know what the hell’s been going on here.” The door slammed behind her.

The Grand Inquisitor and her two assistants looked warily at one another.

Chapter Thirteen

“Whew!” Maggie said in as light a tone as she could muster. “I’m not so sure I want to stick around.”

Ernie snorted. “That was real helpful! We never did get anything out of Lavinia, except that she more or less admitted she did know about the argument.”

Helena threw up her hands. "Even so, you can’t convince me Lavinia didn’t tell Magnolia. She acted pretty funny about that. I won’t go so far as to say she was the one who did the pushing, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Maggie shrugged that aside for the moment. “Before Claudine gets back, I want to know something. Are she and Lavinia particularly close?”

Helena wobbled her head back and forth in such an odd manner that Maggie couldn’t tell whether she was indicating “yes” or “no” to the question. “Sort of,” she finally said.

“That’s a helpful answer,” Ernie commented tartly. “Would you like to go into a little more detail?”

Helena rolled her eyes. “Well, Maggie, I guess I’d better let you in on another family secret, so to speak. One of the few I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think it was all that important.” Maggie held up her hand. “It’s okay. Lavinia’s already told me about Claudine’s father.”

Helena’s eyebrows arched. “Really? Quite an honor, I should think. Anyway, the fact that Lavinia is Claudine’s aunt has made them a little closer than they would have been otherwise, I suppose.” She frowned. “Claudine was always such a contradictory child. She has this nurturing instinct. She always seemed to know before anyone else when someone in the family was going to be ill, and she delighted in helping take care of anyone who was sick. That’s why none of us was surprised when she wanted to be a nurse, and that she’s such a good one. But at the same time, she’s so independent and—well, prickly I guess is the best word for it. She knew the truth about who her father was when she was pretty young, and that’s what made her the way she is. She’s never really let any of us get that close to her—even Lavinia, as far as I can tell, although they do seem to get along pretty well.”