Page 54 of Death at the Deep Dive

Or because Great-great-great-aunt Eudora had dropped it in the goldfish pond that had once graced the old rose garden?

She did appear to be a little accident prone. In 1962, she’d sprained her ankle in a fall down the grand staircase, and—reading ahead—it looked like she’d broken her wrist in 1964 when some unknown person ran her bicycle off the road.

What Ellery couldn’t decide was whether this person really was unknown to Eudora or whether she, puzzlingly, chose not to name them. He suspected the latter.

But why? Why would Eudora keep that information to herself?

It was odd.

But after 1962, Eudora’s journalswereodd. Or at least, different in mood.

The witty, light-hearted tone was gone. She was still dutifully writing about the same things as she went about her same life, but something had definitely changed.

She had been happy.

And then she was not.

An obvious explanation was the disappearance of Vernon Shandy.

Ellery glanced up at the bewigged and steely-eyed life-sized portrait of his distant ancestor Captain Horatio Page, and then jumped as his cell phone rang.

Jack.

His heart lightened. He answered, “Hi. I was hoping you’d call.”

“Are you at my place, by any chance?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m just checking in, making sure everything is okay.”

Jack’s tone sounded a bit off, and Ellery said, “It was thirty seconds ago.NowI’m nervous.”

“Yeah. Well.”

“Was that supposed to be reassurance? Because…not so much.”

“I’m looking at the preliminary autopsy report on Tackle Shandy.”

“Oh.”

“As expected, Tackle was run over.” Jack’s tone was flat. “Then backed over.”

It took two swallows before Ellery managed, “Backedover?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…an unpleasant thought.”

“It’s pretty gruesome. I’d like you to do me a favor and double check that every door and every window in that house is secure. Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll do that for you and me both.”

“There’s no concrete reason to believe Tackle’s death has anything to do with you finding those doubloons or whatever happened to Vernon sixty years ago. Tackle led a very messy life, and that can catch up with someone.”

“Sure,” Ellery said faintly.

“But it’s not going to hurt to be extra careful until we get this thing wrapped up.”

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