Cruel as the Grave (24 page)

Ernie smiled grimly in agreement. “I think it was more likely,” she mused, “that Lavinia intended to use those pills on someone else.”

Maggie shook her head in doubt. “Granted you two both knew her much better than I, but from my impression of her, I wouldn’t have thought she’d’ve been dumb enough to think she could get away with it. The pills would have been too easily traced.”

Ernie and Helena nodded. “You’re right,” Ernie concluded reluctantly. “Lavinia was sharper than that. I guess my head needs a little clearing today, because I should’ve thought of that one myself.”

Maggie shrugged. “Maybe so—but that leaves us with the suicide theory again. Would you have ever thought of her as the suicidal type?”

Helena spoke up quickly. “No, because she was always too self-centered. I don’t think she would’ve done anything like that unless she was pretty desperate.”

“So we’re firmly back to square one,” Ernie muttered. “Was she, or wasn’t she, a murderess?”

“When you say ‘desperate,’” Maggie queried, responding to Helena, “do you mean because she was afraid of being convicted of murder?”

Helena nodded. “Probably so. I don’t think Lavinia could’ve faced the thought of prison, first because of the shame, but also because of the lack of all the physical comforts she was used to.”

“This is all really a moot point now, I suppose,” Ernie reflected. When Maggie and Helena shot pointed glances her way, she had the grace to laugh. “Yes, I know I was the one who brought the whole thing up, but we had to talk about it at some point.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs comfortably at the ankles. “I’m sure she was murdered,” Ernie continued, “so we should probably concentrate on that. Though, mind you, I think the possibility of her having contemplated suicide is important.”

Maggie nodded in agreement. “I think it’s probably an important point, too, but for now we need to concentrate, like you said, on the fact that she was murdered.”

Helena surprised both of them with a loud sniff.

Maggie noticed that her great-aunt was suddenly having trouble holding back her tears. “What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

With an effort Helena regained her composure. “I’m sorry, but I was just thinking how sad it all is. Lavinia and I grew up together, did you know that?”

Fascinated, Maggie shook her head, while Ernie waited calmly to hear what Helena had to say. Maggie nodded her encouragement, and Helena continued.

“Well, our family and the Culpepers had been friendly for a long time. Lavinia’s father was a businessman, though he wasn’t a particularly successful one. My father, and Henry in his turn, served as old man Culpeper’s legal advisors. Lavinia and Lawrence and Harold and I all went to the same school. I was a year or so younger than the Culpeper twins, and Harold was a couple of years older. He and Lawrence were really good friends, and Lavinia and I got along pretty well—all those years ago.” Helena sniffed again, and a solitary tear escaped her tightly clinched eyelid.

“Lavinia was a lovely girl, but of course Magnolia was always there, older and prettier and more vivacious. Lavinia fell in love with Henry, just like her big sister. At first I thought she was carrying on about Henry only because she wanted to annoy Magnolia, but I think she really must have meant it. She never married, after all.” Helena shook her head wonderingly. “It’s hard to believe—or maybe it’s not— that the lovely young friend I used to have turned into the malicious old maid I couldn’t stand.”

Maggie reached out to pat her great-aunt’s hand as Helena added, “Now I wish our friendship could have survived the way Harold’s friendship with Lawrence did.” Abruptly she stood up. “I think, if y’all will excuse me, I’m going to lie down for a while. I just don’t have the stomach for this right now.”

Ernie and Maggie murmured soothingly, and Helena left them. Ernie turned to Maggie with a sigh, once Helena had entered the house. “She always was too tenderhearted, but I have to admit it’s good to see somebody mourning poor Lavinia. At least a little bit.” She shook her head.

Maggie had no response to this, and for a few minutes the two women sat, staring into the gently lapping waters of the pool, stirred by a mild breeze which offered them brief respite from the late afternoon heat.

Maggie broke the comfortable silence first. “My father told me something I think you should know.” Ernie’s eyebrows arched in curiosity, and Maggie continued. “He says Arthur Latham thinks that Dad is responsible for both murders.” Ernie snorted in derision, but Maggie kept talking. “Grandfather told Dad that afternoon that he was going to replace Dad as the chief beneficiary in his will, and Latham thinks—naturally enough, I guess—that gives Dad the best motive for murdering Grandfather. And Grandfather apparently told Mr. Levering that he intended doing so.”

“But what about Lavinia’s death?” Ernie protested. “Why does he think Gerard would’ve killed her?”

Maggie fanned her face dispiritedly with her hand as the breeze died down. “Revenge—for having killed my grandmother.”

“That makes a mad sort of sense,” Ernie admitted, “but it’s a little too mad to be true.”

Maggie had to laugh, though not quite in amusement. ‘That’s about what Dad said.”

Ernie sat up straight in her chair. “But that means Henry could also have told Levering whom he meant to be his new chief beneficiary and whom he meant to cut out.”

“Exactly.” Maggie agreed. “Dad thinks that Grandfather had intended to make me his chief beneficiary, and of course I think that would lessen the motive in Dad’s case, but Dad says Latham just wants somebody to ‘ride hard,’ and for the time being he’s stuck with that.”

“I suppose so,” Ernie responded. “If only we could find out who it was Henry intended to cut out of his will—besides Gerard, that is,” she complained. “That’s got to be who the murderer is.”

“You’re probably right,” Maggie agreed. “But unfortunately I don’t think Latham is going to come running to us with the information.” Her tone turned speculative. “I’d almost be willing to bet that Latham knows who the killer is, but he doesn’t have any conclusive evidence that he’s right.”

Ernie nodded emphatically. “You just might be right.”

“We’ll have to keep at it the hard way—in the dark,” Maggie said, “if we’re going to figure this out ourselves.” She leaned forward in her chair and stared into her cousin’s face. “Now, there are some other things I’d like to talk to you about without Helena here.”

Ernie looked suitably interested in Maggie’s remark. She leaned closer in an encouraging manner. Maggie gave her a quick outline of her conversation the previous evening with Claudine. “So,” she concluded, “was Claudine telling me the truth? Did everyone besides Lavinia have motives for murdering my grandmother?”

Ernie slumped back in her chair, wiping a few beads of moisture from her forehead. She took so long to answer that Maggie feared she had somehow offended her cousin.

“Frankly,” Ernie said at last, “Claudine soft-pedaled it more than I would have expected her to.”

“Oh?” was the only response Maggie could manage.

Ernie nodded slowly, tiredly. “I’m afraid so. I was very fond of your grandmother, my dear, but there’s no denying that she was a very strong personality. Things got so bad between her and Retty that they hardly spoke to each other for five years before Magnolia died. And Helena really didn’t have much of a spine in those days. She did pretty much everything Magnolia said. Maybe the worm finally did turn.”

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked quickly.

“Well, just look at Helena these days,” Ernie responded vaguely. “Nobody would call her exactly spineless these days, now would they? After Magnolia’s death, she changed, became more self-assured, started offering her opinions in conversations—which she never used to do.” She shrugged. “Magnolia’s death liberated her, though that sounds a little extreme.”

“Do you seriously think Helena might have murdered my grandmother?” Maggie asked. “We know she couldn’t have murdered my grandfather; and unless we’re talking about two murderers here, I don’t think she’s a suspect.”

An odd look flitted across Ernie’s normally placid countenance. “I don’t know, but there’s someone we’re forgetting here. Harold.”

‘True,” Maggie said. “What about Harold?”

“I hate to say this, because it’s the one thing I disliked most about Magnolia, but she and Henry treated poor Harold pretty shabbily most of the time. She wouldn’t have Harold around too much, except when there were lots of the family here, because she didn’t want him to have much contact with Gerard. She was afraid, God knows why, that Harold would try something with him." Ernie’s voice evinced her disgust at the thought. “Harold adored Gerard and would never, never have done anything to harm him, but your grandmother had a blind spot on that one issue. She could be really hateful about it, too.”

“That’s so sad,” Maggie whispered. “That kind of willful misunderstanding is difficult to deal with.”

Ernie snorted dismissively. “Call it that if you want, I call it just plain prejudice. And ignorance! Magnolia and Henry were both intelligent people, but sometimes they were damn stupid.”

Maggie couldn’t argue with Ernie’s more honest assessment of the situation. “Well,” she asked, “do you think Harold resented the way he was treated enough to murder?” “Possibly” was Ernie’s terse response.

“What is it?” Maggie asked, after a few moments’ silence. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really,” Ernie answered, “but I just had the most appalling idea.”

Chapter Eighteen

“What is this appalling idea of yours?” Maggie spoke more sharply than she had intended when Ernie failed to follow up her remark with an explanation.

Ernie shifted in her chair as she looked at Maggie. “Helena has always been protective of Harold, and the only times I know of that she ever crossed Henry or Magnolia were on his account. I remember hearing about an almighty fuss she stirred up one summer when Harold wanted to come for a visit before Gerard was going to be packed off to some camp. Magnolia didn’t want Harold here until Gerard had left, but Helena carried on so that for once Magnolia gave in.”

Puzzled by the import of this reminiscence, Maggie remarked, “That’s very interesting, but I’m not really following your point here.”

Ernie grimaced. “It was what you said about two murderers a couple of minutes ago. It just struck me as possible that Helena and Harold could be covering up for each other. Maybe Harold was responsible for both murders, and Helena’s been protecting him.” She squirmed again in her chair. “Or Helena could have killed Magnolia all those years ago, and then Harold killed Henry, and either one of them could have pushed Lavinia down those stairs. They knew her habits as well as anybody.”

Maggie’s mind worked busily as Ernie fell silent. True enough, Harold could be the killer. After all, he had readily admitted to having heard the argument between Gerard and Henry the day Magnolia had died. And, although he claimed to have seen no one else when he went upstairs to his room, he could easily have gone to his sister-in-law’s bedroom to inform her of the argument in progress downstairs.

Or he just as easily could have told Helena about the argument, and then she could have gone to tell Magnolia, followed her back down the hallway, and then pushed her down the stairs.

Frowning, Maggie looked at Ernie. “It’s certainly possible that either one of them could have killed my grandmother. But Harold would have to have been the one who killed my grandfather, because Helena didn’t leave my side during the time when he must have been murdered.”

Ernie sighed tiredly. “This is pretty revolting, having to think these things about my own family. But we know that one of them is responsible. I guess we just keep digging until we find out who.”

“I have a funny feeling there’s got to be something else, something we don’t know about, that may be the key here.” Maggie shook her head doubtfully. “I’ve heard various reasons people had for hating my grandparents, but so far I’m not really convinced by any one of them. From what I’ve heard, Helena certainly had the strongest motive to kill my grandfather, but we know she couldn’t have. I still think the important thing is finding out who had the most reason to want my grandmother dead.”

Ernie nodded slowly. “I agree with you, but I’m afraid you already know all the family secrets I know. There’re bound to be others, but whose they are, and who’ll tell them to us, I don’t know.” She rolled her head back on her neck, attempting to ease the tired muscles. “Helena and Harold have always been close, but I’d be willing to bet there are things they’ve never told each other, and Retty’s pretty closemouthed, too. The same with Claudine and Sylvia. I just don’t know that much about them.”

“Do you think it would do any good for you to talk to Helena?” Maggie asked.

Ernie’s eyes rolled back. “I don’t know, but I suppose I can try.”

“If you’ll talk to her, then,” Maggie said, standing up, “I’ll try Harold. We can tackle Retty together.”

Ernie waved her agreement as Maggie started walking toward the house. “I’ll be there in a little while,” Ernie called after her.

Maggie was glad to exchange the humidity for the air- conditioned comfort of the house. She hadn’t realized how warm she had become until she stepped into the dark coolness of the house. She decided she needed liquid refreshment before she attempted to coerce Harold into sharing further family secrets with her. She headed first for the kitchen. She found Sylvia, Claudine, and Adrian seated at the table and chatting idly about some documentary on Mississippi history which Sylvia had seen the previous week.

Nodding a quick and smiling greeting in the general direction of the others, Maggie opened the refrigerator door and searched for a Diet Coke. As she was about to give up and settle for water, she spotted a glint of silver and red behind several jars of jelly and triumphantly pulled her prize from the back of the refrigerator.

Diffidently she turned toward the three at the table. Bran-dishing her Diet Coke, she said, “This seems to be the last one. Anybody mind if I take it?”