Hanging Hannah (24 page)

Laura looked back at Jane, shrugged. “So I bided my time. After college, Daniel got his job with you and Kenneth, so we moved to Shady Hills, that godforsaken gossip cesspool of a town. And I . . . I got my job at Unimed. I figured the pharmaceuticals industry was just right for me.” She gave Jane a deadly smile. “I've always had a keen interest in . . . chemicals.”

Suddenly Laura seemed to deflate, her thin shoulders dropping. “Years passed,” she said despondently. “Daniel still wouldn't set a wedding date. His father refused to die. And all the while, his empire grew, he got richer and richer, while Daniel and I struggled to get by because he was too proud to take a penny from his father.”

Jane said, “You must have hated me when Daniel turned down that job offer from Silver and Payne last fall to stay with me. That job would have paid three times what I pay him.”

Laura shrugged. “That kind of money doesn't make a difference, Jane, not when you're from the world I'm from. And as for hating you—I hate you anyway. I always have.”

Jane blinked. “Why?”

“Because you—and Kenneth, too, when he was alive—you encouraged Daniel to nurture his stupid little dream of ‘becoming an agent.' ” Laura's voice dripped with ridicule. “If it hadn't been for you two, Daniel would have gone to work for his father. All those years—wasted.”

“Yes, all those years,” Jane echoed, “during which your daughter was growing up.”

“Mm. I didn't know Victor had shown her pictures of me, the sentimental fool. He would never have given them to her, of course, because if anyone at the Institute had found them, they would have figured out where Hannah came from. And he never told her who I was.”

“But then
People
ran its story on me,” Jane said. “On all of us.”

“That's right. Hannah told me she couldn't believe her eyes. She decided the moment she saw the photo of me that she would meet me, no matter what it took. So one day while she was out for her walk around the Institute, she went out into the woods and slipped through a tear in the chain link fence. She hitched rides all the way to Shady Hills. All she had with her was that article from
People
.

“When she got here she met Arthur, Doris's nephew. She told him she needed a secret place to live until she was ready to reveal her ‘wonderful surprise.' He brought her food, a map of town.”

“But someone found her in the cave,” Jane said.

Laura nodded. “Some hiker staying at the inn. Hannah begged him not to tell anyone she was there. He finally agreed, even brought her a blanket.”

Louise's antique Irish Chain quilt, Jane thought, the first thing he saw to grab at the inn.

She shook her head thoughtfully. “Hannah wasn't the only person to be taken aback by your photo in
People
. Goddess—Elaine, if you like—saw it, too, and though she didn't recognize you—she'd been only five when you were separated—”

“She recognized my pendant,” Laura finished, fingering it at her clavicle. “I never take mine off. Daddy gave one to each of us when we were babies.”

Jane nodded. “So using the pretext of wanting to write a book, Goddess approached her only friend who worked in publishing, Holly Griffin, and asked Holly to introduce Goddess to me. Through me, Goddess could get to Daniel, and to you. It wasn't Holly who brought Goddess to me, as Holly claimed. It was Goddess who
asked
Holly to introduce Goddess to me.

“And Goddess's plan worked. At Carol Freund's publication party, Goddess came face-to-face with you, had an opportunity to examine your pendant more closely than she could have done in the
People
photo.”

“I recognized her immediately.” Laura looked stunned even as she recalled that moment. “I—I couldn't believe my eyes. My little sister Elaine was—
Goddess
! I couldn't tell whether she recognized me, too. Later she told me that the Hamners had told her everything about her past. I didn't know that then, but I had to assume the worst. I had to assume she knew enough to tell the world who I really was.”

Jane smiled ruefully, shaking her head. “And then poor, foolish, big-mouthed Holly, always wanting to be seen as an insider, made the mistake of telling everyone that Goddess had already told Holly everything—and thereby sealed her fate.”

“The idiot,” Laura said. “I followed her back to her office while Elaine was singing. Holly looked surprised to see me. I told her I was intrigued with publishing because of Daniel's being an agent. We chatted for a moment. When she bent down to pick up the framed book jacket for Carol, I took her letter opener. I came around her desk, pretending to admire the view. Then I just spun around and stuck the letter opener right through her neck. It was harder than I'd thought it would be,” she said, looking uncomfortable; then she giggled. “She kind of . . . wiggled on it, like a bug pinned to a board.”

Jane recoiled. “That must have been difficult for you, stabbing her. After all, your first method had been poison.”

Laura laughed. “ 'First method'! You talk as if I'm some kind of serial killer.”

“You are.”

Laura shrugged indifferently. “The point is—no pun intended—that I couldn't let Holly get in the way of all I'd worked so hard for, waited so many years for.”

“Some of Holly's blood spattered on your blouse, didn't it,” Jane said. “That's why you spilled tomato juice on yourself at the bar—to cover the bloodstain.”

“Oh, you are good.” Laura giggled. “The poor bartender ! Who knows what he must have thought. He saw me do it to myself but didn't dare contradict me.”

“So that was one down,” Jane said. “I was next, wasn't I?”

Laura nodded. “I didn't know how much Elaine knew, didn't know how much of what she knew she'd told you. I couldn't take any chances. I knew Daniel wouldn't want me to go to Chicago with him for his father's funeral. I followed you to the Waldorf . . .”

“. . . gave the desk clerk that phony note from Salomé Sutton, and bashed me over the head with a vase. But I didn't die.”

“No,” Laura said pensively, then brightened. “That's why we get second chances.”

“Hannah had no second chance,” Jane said, and Laura's face grew serious. “She'd located you, hadn't she, and approached you?”

“That's right. She actually came to our house,
rang our bell
. Thank God Daniel wasn't home yet. She was so happy. I was horrified.”

“You thought you'd rid yourself of her eighteen years ago.” Jane shook her head in wonder. “Years ago you chose the life of this child over that of your father. Now . . .”

“I couldn't afford to have her jeopardize my plans.” Laura spoke as if her words made perfect sense. “Besides, I hadn't seen her since she was a little girl. She was a stranger to me.”

“You told her you'd meet her later in the cave, didn't you?”

“Yes. She took me there so I'd be able to find her. She said I was beautiful. She must have noticed I was wearing makeup, because she asked me to bring some when I came back to the cave.”

“Which would be that night. You slipped Daniel something to knock him out, right?”

“That's right, my own little Mickey Finn. I just dissolved some sleeping pills I'd taken from work in his coffee.”

“So Daniel thought you were in bed with him all night. He was your alibi.”

“Right again.”

“But you slipped out of bed and went to the cave to meet Hannah as planned.”

“Mm. She was so excited. She wanted so badly to look pretty for her introduction to the people of Shady Hills. You should have seen her trying to put on the makeup I'd brought. She'd never worn makeup before. She made herself look like a clown.”

“You wouldn't help her.”

“What would have been the point? She was about to die.”

“What did you give her to make her cooperate?”

“Would you recognize the name if I told you? It was a hallucinogen. I put it in a Coke I'd brought her. Then it was easy. I led her through the woods to a tree behind the inn, hauled her up, and tied the rope to another tree.”

Jane regarded her with horror. “And to pin the murder on Ernie, you stuffed one of his handkerchiefs into the pocket of Hannah's dress.”

Laura gave a simple nod.

“You took it from the clothesline behind the inn,” Jane said, and Laura nodded again.

“And when we went to New York to pick out your wedding dress, you told me you'd heard gossip about Ernie having extramarital affairs.”

“I really had heard it,” Laura said.

“I believe you,” Jane said, thinking of Dara.

“In fact, hearing the gossip was what made me decide to frame Ernie in the first place. I wanted the cops to think she was one of his girlfriends.”

Jane sat thoughtfully, pondering this horror. “So you returned home, where Daniel was still sound asleep.”

Laura smiled slyly. “Not so sound asleep that I couldn't get him to make love to me.”

“Ah,” Jane said, eyes widening, “so it was then that he made love to you without protection.”

Laura looked sickened. “He
told
you about that? You two have a twisted relationship, you know that?”

Jane ignored this remark. “If I'd known that was when it happened, I could have told him it was too soon for a home pregnancy test to be reliable.”

“But you didn't know.” Laura laughed disdainfully. “Men. They really are so naive about such things. The important point is that he believed me.”

“So drugging him served a dual purpose. It gave you an alibi—how could you have been in the woods behind the inn hanging Hannah when you were in bed with Daniel all night?—and it allowed you to announce believably that you were pregnant.”

“You got it,” Laura said brightly.

“But you weren't, were you.”

“No. But how else could I get him to marry me? You know how traditional he is. I knew that if he believed I was pregnant, he'd finally agree to set a wedding date.”

Jane nodded. “Hannah's appearance in Shady Hills had unnerved you, given you a new sense of urgency.” She shook her head, remembering. “But even as coldhearted a murderer as you had a trace of conscience. Daniel said you cried off and on after Hannah's body was discovered. You were crying at the realization of what you'd done. You'd murdered your own daughter.”

For several moments the two women sat silently, Laura staring vacantly out the windshield at the gently waving grass.

Jane broke the silence. “But marrying Daniel wouldn't have done you any good if his father was still alive.”

“That's right,” Laura said. “And as far as I was concerned, he couldn't die a moment too soon.”

“What better place to kill him than at your own wedding ?”

Laura said nothing, watching Jane.

“You called Daniel's father and told him about the wedding, didn't you?”

“That's right.”

“What did you say to him—that Daniel would be upset if he knew you'd called, so you'd rather keep it your little secret?”

“Right again.”

“And at the wedding you slipped a poison into Cecil Willoughby's champagne, a poison you knew would cause him to collapse as if his heart had finally given out. After all, everyone knew he had a bad heart. He'd already cheated death for years. It was only a matter of time. And you knew no one would request an autopsy if he appeared to have died of a heart attack.

“But your sister—Goddess—saw you slip the drug into Mr. Willoughby's glass—that's why she suddenly spilled it onto the ground, pretending she'd seen a caterpillar in it.” Jane shook her head. “But she only postponed Mr. Willoughby's murder. You managed to slip the poison into his drink again later. I'm curious about where you carry your poisons, Laura. My guess is it's in that big ring you always wear.”

Laura held up the ring, gold with a filigreed dome top. “
Very
good,” she said, flipping open the lid to reveal a compartment inside.

“Just like Lucrezia Borgia. . . .”

“What?”

“Never mind.... So now poor Mr. Willoughby was dead, and you were Mrs. Daniel Willoughby, the wife of a millionaire.” Jane shook her head. “But it still wasn't to be smooth sailing for you. You must have suspected that Goddess had seen you slip the poison into Mr. Willoughby's drink, and during the private screening of
Adam and Eve
, you sneaked out and went to speak to Goddess in the lounge down the corridor. Goddess must then have told you she knew you were sisters and that she knew you had murdered Mr. Willoughby.”

“She threatened me,” Laura said. “She said she'd tell the police what I'd done if I didn't disappear. She said she was giving me a chance because we were sisters, because blood is thicker than water.” She snorted. “I told her I had no intention of ‘disappearing,' and that if she said a word to anyone about what she
thought
she knew, I'd kill her, too.”

“Which you intended to do at a later date anyway.”

“Yes . . . but that wasn't the time.”

“Goddess must have sensed your plans for her, because it was
she
who disappeared, afraid for her life.”

“Right,” Laura said. “I'll find her eventually. But in the meantime I have another problem. You, Jane. I'm curious . . . How'd you figure it all out?”

Jane frowned in thought. “Goddess made a strange comment to me, a comment about dreaming of someone and then meeting the person she'd dreamed about.