This Little Piggy Went to Murder (30 page)

“This?” he said, dangling it enticingly. “It was pushed under my bedroom door while I was taking my nap. You don’t recognize it by any chance, do you?”

Amanda grabbed for it but Luther quickly stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Bastard!”

“Sticks and stones. No need to get huffy. I’ll even tell you what it says. The note was addressed to me. It said, and I quote:
If you want to know who’s behind the pig murders, meet me at the lighthouse at seven-thirty. Come alone
”

“And was it signed?”

“No. It was not.”

“Then how do you know it’s from Jack?”

“Trust me. I know. You see, I imagine I’m going to be the last little piggy. This is his clever way of getting me down there alone. Perhaps I should tell you something I failed to mention to the police. The day of the barbecue, I saw him come out of my study a few minutes before Sid’s body was found. He, of course, didn’t see me. At least I don’t think he did. Earlier in the day I’d seen him grab that rat poison from under the kitchen sink. All week I’ve been watching him play out his little game. He’s guilty, all right. The only question is, does he have an accomplice?”

Amanda’s eyes foIlowed him as he dropped down on the couch. “Have you told anyone about your suspicions?”

“I’m no snitch,” he said petulantly. He poured himself another inch of Scotch. “But I find this all terribly fascinating.”

The grandfather clock in the foyer struck seven. “Oh, deary me. It’s almost the witching hour. By any chance would you care to join me?”

“Me? But the note said to come alone.”

“Oh, come on, sweetie. I’m not walking alone into a trap. You know I never follow rules I don’t like. If the study of philosophy has taught me anything, it’s taught me how to rationalize brilliantly. I’ll meet him there, all right, but you’ll be waiting outside. What do you say?”

Amanda seemed to be thinking. “All right. That sounds like a good plan.” Her voice grew more confident. “But I should take some protection. Maybe I should bring along a gun.”

“A gun? Excellent idea. I’ll get one for you.” He jumped up and hurried back to his study, returning a few moments later. “Here.” He handed it to her. “It’s completely loaded. You can check it if you want.”

“No need.”

“Splendid. It warms my heart to see how much you trust me.” He downed the last bit of Scotch. “You can wait in the woods and watch to see who comes into the lighthouse. If you think I’m in any danger, come up right away. I’m
dying
to know what Jack has to say for himself, aren’t you?” He giggled. “No pun intended.”

“Hello?” called Sophie, stepping quietly into the front foyer. “Anybody here?” She could hear the radio on in the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Alice, walking briskly out of the dining room carrying a vase of fresh-cut zinnias. “I thought you’d gone out.”

“I did. Where’s Luther?” She attempted to sound as casual as possible.

Alice set the vase down on a Louis XVI table and stood back admiringly. “Why, I think he and Mrs. Jorensen left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“Well,” said Alice, a slight hesitation in her voice, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, or anything, but I did hear Mr. Jorensen say something about the lighthouse.”

The lighthouse? thought Sophie. “Were they going for a walk together?”

Alice wiped her hands carefully on her apron. “I don’t know. But something did kind of scare me. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything, but with everything that’s been happening …”

“What?” said Sophie. “Tell me!”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s too late in the day for the shooting range in Knife River to be open. It’ll be dark soon. See, the thing is, Mrs. Jorensen had a gun.”

“A gun?” The significance of her words took a moment to sink in. “Listen carefully, Alice. Call the police. Tell them to come to the lighthouse right away. Then call Castle Rock Tavern. Ask to speak to my husband. Tell him what you just told me and that I’ve gone after them.”

“But what should I say to the police?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. Tell them you heard a gunshot. Anything. Just get them out here!”

Alice rushed off, shaking her head.

Without stopping to consider the potential consequences, Sophie flew out of the house and down the front lawn. It was the quickest, if not the easiest way. She didn’t want to admit it, but deep in her gut, she knew Luther was in danger.

Luther rested uncomfortably on a long wooden bench in a small room at the top of the lighthouse. Absently, he brushed a fly away from his face. Amanda had assured him she would wait at least half an hour. If no one showed, she’d come up and together they would decide what to do next. Perfect, thought Luther. Absolutely perfect.

As the minutes ticked by, his back began to ache. He got up and leaned out one of the deep windows overlooking the bay. Even in the growing dusk, he could clearly see the treacherous rocks that spread around the base of the lighthouse like a web. For a moment he was mesmerized by the lovely patterns emerging from the water. Shifting his gaze to the woods, he spied a dark figure approaching through the tall grass. He fumbled in his pocket for his glasses, but before he could get them on, the figure moved into the clearing and disappeared. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. Rotten luck.

Sitting back down, he rubbed his sore eyes. Suddenly, his ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He waited, his heart racing, as the footsteps reached the top and the door creaked slowly open.

“Sophie!” he cried, jumping to his feet. “What are you doing here?” He pulled her further into the room and shut the door. “Shhh.” He put his finger to his lips. “Please. You’ve got to be quiet. I think I hear someone else coming.”

Sophie was surprised by the hard edge of annoyance in his voice. She moved behind him. A few seconds later, the door opened again. Out of the darkness stepped Amanda, a gun in her hand. Quickly, Sophie reacted. “Put the gun down, Amanda. Don’t drop it. Just lay it on the floor.”

Amanda seemed confused. “Sophie? Is that you? I saw someone come in but I couldn’t make out who it was. What are you doing here?”

Calmly, Sophie repeated, “Please. Just put the gun down. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Amanda laid the gun on the floor and backed up a step.

“All right. Sure. I just had it for protection. But what’s going on?”

Luther leaned down and grabbed it, stuffing it into his sweater pocket. “I fear, dear Amanda, that Sophie has discovered the truth.”

“What are you talking about?” She inched further backward, her eyes growing wide.

Luther sighed, his expression a curious mixture of sadness and elation. “Unfortunately, I believe she knows who’s really been behind all these murders. I knew she’d put it together eventually. You shouldn’t have underestimated her, my dear. You should have taken my advice and sent her packing days ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you mean Jack, he’s completely innocent.”

“Jack?” laughed Luther. “Come on now. We’re all friends here. You can drop the act.”

“But Luther!”

“Save it for the police.” He turned his full attention on Sophie. “Would you like to see something interesting? Look at this.” He pulled the piece of typing paper out of his pocket. “Read it.”

Sophie stepped closer to the window. The deep violet evening light was just bright enough to allow her to make out the words:
This little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home
. “My God,” she said, looking up. “How did you get this?”

Luther scowled. “I felt Amanda slip it into my pocket on our way through the woods. You didn’t know that, did you dear? I’m sure you were planning to put a bullet right between my eyes. Or were you going to threaten to kill me if I didn’t jump to my death? What was the plan, dear wife? Either way my body would have been found broken on the rocks.” He glanced again at Sophie. “It would’ve been difficult for her to leave her usual calling card unless she put it into my pocket before the murder.”

“Sophie,” said Amanda, her voice rising in panic, “none of this is true! You’ve got to believe me.”

“It’s no use,” said Luther. “No one believes you anymore. I’m sick of covering for you. Sick to death of your lies. It’s time to pay the piper.”

Sophie was sure she heard more footsteps on the stairs.

Luther, obviously hearing the same sounds, abruptly pulled the gun out of his pocket. “Step away from the door,” he whispered. “Hurry!”

A bright beam of light struck the windows behmd them, illuminating the dim room with an eerie, stark luminescence.

A second later, the door burst open and Detective Wardlaw and another policeman moved in, guns drawn. “Put the gun down, Mr. Jorensen.”

Luther seemed momentarily startled. “Why, of course. But you don’t understand.”

Sophie watched in stunned silence as Luther pulled Amanda between two of the windows, putting his arm tightly around her waist.

“Please, Mr. Jorensen. Don’t do anything stupid. You can’t escape. We’ve got sharpshooters surrounding the lighthouse. Do the intelligent thing. Let your wife go and give yourself up.”

“What makes you think I want to get away?” He squeezed Amanda more tightly. “For your information, I was already issued a death sentence months ago. Do you think I’m even the least bit frightened of anything you can do to me?” He laughed, his eyes locking on Sophie’s.

“And you. You’ve been the wild card all along. I never expected you to come for the opening of the restaurant. I thought it was all settled. You and Bram were too busy. It was safe for me to begin my final work. And then, there you were, wonderful, kind, funny Sophie, sitting in the Gasthaus, smiling your warmth and love at me, and, selfish man that I am, I couldn’t bear to send you away. You don’t know how alone I’ve been. I didn’t realize it myself until I saw you. Chekhov was right: if a person is afraid of loneliness, he should never marry.” His eyes began to tear.

“Sophie, can you understand? I never should have involved you in this. I never should have sent you those notes, but I was afraid Bram was going to take you away. I couldn’t be alone anymore. I just couldn’t!” His voice cracked. “I simply couldn’t … die alone.” He fought to keep his grip, his concentration. “You became my ace in the hole. I was going to use you to destroy Amanda. I tried to give you enough information to lead you in the direction I wanted. If my plan had worked, you’d have helped me put her in prison.” He shook his head violently.

“Don’t look at me like that! You think I have no conscience, but you’re wrong. After what happened in the sauna the other day, I could see that what I’d started could no longer be controlled. I don’t know who locked you in there, but given enough time, I would’ve found out. And I would have made them pay. The bottom line was you were no longer safe. As much as I needed you, somehow I had to make you leave! That’s why I wrote that last note. I wanted to frighten you. But you’re still here! Why didn’t you follow my advice? You could have ruined everything!” His eyes looked momentarily wild and angry. With great effort, he struggled to compose himself. “It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters.”

Sophie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The truth of his words flashed inside her mind like a match being struck in the darkness. She felt soiled. Angry.

Luther continued a bit more calmly. “You despise me now, don’t you? Don’t bother answering. I can see it written in your face. It’s all right. But will you at least grant me a few moments? For some reason I feel the uncharacteristic need of a last confession. Perhaps it’s really absolution I’m seeking, in which case, I will rest my case with you.” His voice softened. “All right, will everyone kindly give me their attention.” He laughed at the inanity of his request. Clearing his throat, he began. “Every person I killed was a worthless and immensely loathsome human being. I realize no judge would consider those considerable qualifications grounds for execution. But may I suggest that, in the abyss we call philosophy, a case can be made. George Bernard Shaw suggested that when a man kills a beast he calls it sport, but when that same beast tries to kill the man, we call it ferocity. The distinction between crime and justice is no greater.

“The first pig, Lars Olson, made a habit of seducing every female employee under the age of fIfty. He made life miserable not just for
them
, but for each of us who happened to work with him at UMD. Those he didn’t care to seduce, he merely tortured. His specialty was professional humiliation. God, how I despised the sight of him. When I began my leave of absence last summer, I swore I’d make him pay for all the years he spent trying to undermine me. The night he died, I stood watching from my car. Perhaps I should have said a little prayer for his immortaI soul, but all I did was grin like an idiot.” Angrily he kicked the bench away from the wall. “ou see, I think of myself as a kind of cosmic vacuum cleaner. I’m not crazy, so don’t feel you need to feign sadness for a brilliant mind gone bad. If I were insane, it might be easier for you to understand. Forgive the inveterate nature of a philosophy professor, but Nietzsche was right when he wrote:
“Many people wait throughout their whole lives for the chance to be good in their own fashion.’
I’d simply waited long enough. If I could rid the world of a few vermin before I went, good for me.” Still holding a terrified Amanda tightly in his grip, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.