Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) (32 page)

"
No, I’m not saying that at all!
"
Callum yelled through the receiver.

De Kirkhaugh was certain everyone in the outer office could hear Callum through the phone. At first he found himself somewhat relieved that Callum had made it out alive as he suspected, but now that feeling was slipping away.
"
But you said the draft of the Last Will and Testament of Agatha Gilcrest was leaving her entire fortune to Margaret Fergraith and family. Why would a wealthy, eccentric spinster want to leave her entire fortune to a former maid? And why would that maid kill her before the paperwork was filed?
"

"
I also have a carbon copy of a letter from a solicitor dated 1889, for transfer of legal guardianship of Agatha Gilcrest’s child… female child… to a Mr. Fergraith.
"

De Kirkhaugh paused and asked,
"
Did you say Agatha Gilcrest had a child?
"

"
Yes.
"

"
So then she wasn’t a spinster?
"

"
Apparently not. Think about that time period. A woman of her social stature having a child out of wedlock? She couldn’t afford that scandal.
"

"
So she gave the child up for adoption…
"
de Kirkhaugh said
,
slowly putting the pieces together.
"
And you think years later she hired that child to be her maid.
"

"
Even after Margaret Fergraith left her employ, she and her family were invited over to Agatha Gilcrest’s home for the holidays,
"
Callum recounted.
"
And…when I first saw Dolanna, I was thrown by how much she resembled Agatha Gilcrest.
"

"
Do you have any other evidence? An adoption form?
"

"
Just this letter and the Will,
"
said Callum.
"
But that Will was never signed. Agatha Gilcrest was in the process of changing her Will
to leave everything to Margaret
, but it wasn’t executed. The draft I have in my hands is dated 21st of December, 1909.
"

"
That was the evening she was murdered, wasn’t it?
"

"
Correct!
"
Callum exclaimed.
"
And Margaret Fergraith didn’t get a shilling after Agatha Gilcrest’s death.
"

"
So I wager the killer was going to be cut out of the Will, making it personal enough to attack the old woman face-on.
"

"
Precisely,
"
Callum said excitedly through the phone.
"
And it would also explain why all her personal papers were strewn about the room.
"

"
Looking for the Will,
"
de Kirkhaugh said at the same time with Callum. He hated to admit it, but his theory seemed sound.
"
I don’t suppose your grandfather left the name of who actually inherited Agatha Gilcrest’s fortune?
"

"
Not that I’ve been able to find just yet,
"
replied Callum with a sigh.

"
No, of course not, that would have been too bloody easy.
"

"
However, both of these documents have the name of the solicitor on them,
"
Callum added.

"
Perhaps the firm is still around. There’s an outside chance they still have old records.
"

"
Maybe I’ll grow wings and fly,
"
muttered de Kirkhaugh.

"
What?
"

"
I said: ‘it wouldn’t hurt to try’. Go on, what’s the name of the solicitor?
"

"
McLewlend,
"
Callum read aloud,
"
Of McLewlend and Sons, Solicitors…
"

"
Did you say McLewlend?
"

"
Yes, Robert McLewlend was the…
"

"
He’s dead,
"
de Kirkhaugh said as his head sank forward.

"
Well it doesn’t surprise me, that was 1909…
"

"
No, I mean he died in
1909
. The 27th of December
,
1909. A week after Agatha Gilcrest.
"

"
And you know that off the top of your head?
"
Callum asked incredulously.

"
On a hunch, I was looking into other unsolved murders from that year… murders that weren’t sealed.
"

"
How was he murdered?
"

"
Shot, and then his whole lawfirm went up in flames. His sons are all dead now, too.
"
de Kirkhaugh said frankly, as he scanned through the older files dated the year
1905
.
"

"
We have a strong case for motive,
"
Callum added.

Suddenly a handwritten label caught de Kirkhaugh’s eye:
Gilcrest, A. (arson)
What are the odds?
De Kirkhaugh thought to himself.
What had happened in 1905?

He opened it, expecting to see information pertaining to Agatha, but it wasn’t her file. De Kirkhaugh asked into the phone,
"
Did Agatha Gilcrest have any other children or any other relatives with the same surname?
"

"
Why do you ask?
"

"
I have a file here on a male juvenile delinquent, who was seventeen in 1905, when he committed a series of arson attacks. His last name is Gilcrest.
"

BUZZ

Line 3 on de Kirkhaugh’s phone buzzed and started to flash. De Kirkhaugh quickly said to Callum,
"
I have another call. I’ll page you later with an address of where to meet.
"

"
Cheers,
"
Callum said.

De Kirkhaugh clicked off.
Did the light stay on?
He had
n’t notice
d
.
Stupid Git!
He thought about what they had said and if a third-party had been eavesdropping… He had to be more careful.

BUZZ

"
DCI de Kirkhaugh speaking,
"
he said into the phone.

A man with an American accent spoke,
"
Are you the investigating officer of the explosion at the home of Dolanna Fergraith?
"

De Kirkhaugh rolled his eyes.
More press.
He gritted his teeth and replied,
"
I’m sorry I have no information for the press.
"

"
I’m not the press,
"
the voice in the phone said politely.
"
My name is Edward Hoffman. I’m calling from America… Dolanna was… very close… to me.
"

De Kirkhaugh knew exactly who he was, and he
had
seen the charred remains of a photo in her house,
"
What can I do for you Mr. Hoffman?
"

"
Please,
"
Edward pleaded over the phone.
"
Is she still alive?
"

"
I’m afraid I can’t say,
"
said de Kirkhaugh, still looking at the light on the phone.

"
I know I’m not family but can you at least…
"

"
Sorry,
"
de Kirkhaugh interrupted. Maybe he was paranoid but he had to be careful.
"
Can I get your number and I’ll contact you later?
"

_ _ _

After giving his pager number, Edward hung up the phone. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was not right with that police inspector in Glasgow. He sounded like he was hiding something. The uncertainty was killing him. He desperately wanted to get back to the city and jet over to the UK, but they were still snowed in. There simply weren’t enough snow plows to dig everyone out, and this rural area would be on the bottom of the list of priorities.
Good thing the cabin was well-stocked.

He turned on the TV to see if there was an update on the foreign news. The angular image of Alexander Haig appeared on the screen as he arrived in London, England. In an elegant British Manchester accent, the reporter announced,
"
The US Secretary of State Alexander Haig will meet with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher to begin shuttle mediation.
"

The footage cut to war protesters, some with faces painted with the British and Argentine flag colors, marching through Trafalgar Square. Some were carrying homemade signs saying: ‘
Stop the War Negotiate Now’
and
‘Re
a
gan, Haig, CIA & Thatcher, How Ma
ny People Have You Killed Today?'

Edward shook his head. All this turmoil for a few small islands. How many would die fighting for them? Would it be worth it? Edward had seen the price of war firsthand, which is why he had forbidden his branch of Hoffman International to be involved in any military contracts, despite the possible monetary gains. Another topic that had spawned many an argument with his father.

Edward was momentarily distracted by the name on the screen:
Lo
raine Kramer
.

He took a hard look at the photo of an old woman that appeared above the name. It had been decades since Edward had contact with that con artist but he remembered her eyes.
What was she up to now?

"
Lo
raine Kramer was last seen at her
Glasgow home on the third of April
. Anyone with information is asked to contact the Strathclyde Police.
"

What is going on in Glasgow?
h
e wondered. It was too coincidental that two women from his past would appear on the news around the same time. Edward could vividly recall the venomous rage when h
e proved that Kramer was not Lo
raine Allison, the little girl from First Class who perished aboard the
Titanic
. He could still hear her mid-western accent screaming,
I’ll get even with you one day. You’ll pay for this! If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll ruin you the way you ruined me!

Thinking about what had happened at Dolanna’s home, Edward couldn’t help but wonder if
Loraine
Kramer had a hand in that misfortune. Was this somehow part of her revenge?

And then there was Myra…

Edward looked about the main room of the lake house. He hadn’t seen her leave the room.

He called out,
"
Myra?
"

No answer.

"
Myra!
"
he called out again, even louder.
Where was she?

Chapter
XLIII

In the staff lounge, Natalie was watching the news about Ian Kybartis having been found dead in the freezing waters in West Rock State Park, New Haven. There was no mention of Myra at all.
This is all very strange,
she thought to herself.

"
Coming up after the break,
"
the reporter on the TV continued,
"
New Yorkers haven’t finished digging themselves out of the snow, and there may be an encore from Mother Nature. We’ll be right back…
"

Natalie got up. This was a good excuse to leave early, especially since tomorrow was Good Friday and she was hoping to catch a flight home for Easter. She went to her office, and the moment she crossed the threshold, her office phone beeped.

"
Dr. Lindsay?
"
the receptionist paged.
"
There is a call for you.
"

"
Could you take a message?
"
Natalie said into the intercom.

"
It’s an overseas call from England.
"