When he saw the grip Tim had on Ned, his eyebrows shot up. “I was starting to worry about you,” Flynn said. “Did you put the moves on Sherlock and get shot down? Christ, you really will screw anything with a pulse.”
Tim gritted his teeth. “Mr. Yeboah just assaulted a police officer.”
“Would you look at that, Ned,” Flynn said. “You found a way to leave me after all.”
“That’s enough,” I said. “We need to talk to all of you.”
Tim leaned in close. “We do?”
The moment when I’m about to catch a criminal is a moment like no other. I can’t explain how it makes me feel. It’s the highest of highs, a thrill that’s astounding in its potency. The only person I know who might understand it is Tim.One day, I thought,maybe I’ll ask him.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” I said, resuming the position I’d taken when I first walked into the parlor all those hours before, “with the first person blamed for Jasper’s murder. It was Norton, I believe, who brought the trapper to our attention.” I faced the caretaker, and he instantly reddened under my gaze. “In fact, Norton was the only person to suggest it might have been a total stranger who took Jasper. He convinced Camilla the man was after her money. Told her a ransom note was on the way. But no note came, and thanks to Wellington—who was able to confirm BillyBloom’s alibi—we eliminated the trapper from our suspect list very quickly.
“But you clung to your theory he was to blame, didn’t you, Mr. Norton? You insisted he was guilty after we found Abella’s body, and brought him up again when Wellington told everyone the boats were gone. You had to know we’d see the trapper’s involvement as a long shot. Surely you noticed nobody else was pointing at Bloom as a suspect.” I waited. Though his mouth hung open, Norton said nothing. I could see his chest rising and falling fast under his flannel shirt.
“Your story about Camilla not wanting mink under the boathouse made sense,” I said. “There’s no denying the smell. Honestly, if Jasper was MIA for longer we’d have torn that building apart, but there’s no way a stench of decay could be traced to a person who’s only been missing one day. Billy Bloom found a pile of fish guts down there. That much is true, too. According to Bloom, they were all perch.” I didn’t mention it was Tim’s comment about never wanting to eat fried perch again that had burrowed into my ear and stayed there. I did, however, make a mental note to buy Tim a beer. “Now, I don’t know much about this river, but I do know there are many more species of fish, and the odds of a mink being that particular are low. I had the sheriff make a call. What she discovered is that Norton bought several pounds of bones and butcher scraps from the local fishmonger the day before you all arrived here. I believe he planted them under the boathouse as an excuse to bring in Bloom.”
According to the shop owner Mac interviewed over the phone, Norton requested a mix and wasn’t too happy to hear perch was all he could get. It must have taken him hours to fake the mink infestation. The process left him so behind on his housework thathe wasn’t ready for the guests and had to make a last-minute trip to the market.
“The thing about deductive reasoning is that it isn’t about finding big flashing arrows, but quiet attempts at diversion.”Like Carson’s shifting attitude about having Tim at the wedding, I thought.Like Norton’s insistence the trapper was bad news. “You brought Billy Bloom out here for a reason,” I said. “A distraction, maybe, or to protect someone. The question, of course, is why?”
Philip Norton didn’t move and didn’t breathe as he waited to hear what I’d say next.
“Now Flynn—” I pivoted to face him. “He was quick to blame Abella. She was a stranger to all of you except Ned. That makes her a convenient scapegoat. Flynn tried to persuade us Jasper was using Abby for sex, while she was using him to get a job that would allow her to stay in the States. Flynn insisted Abby found Jasper out after they arrived here, and subsequently took her revenge. But there isn’t a shred of evidence to support that claim. Yes, she was in bed with Jasper last night. Yes, his blood was on her clothes. But Abella’s been actively searching for a job.” I glanced at Ned. “I believe she loved Jasper and wanted their relationship to work. She had no reason to kill him, and as we’ve already established, she didn’t kill herself.”
Everywhere I looked, faces stared back at me. Riveted. Afraid. “You’ve been trying to pull us in different directions, all of you,” I said, hitting my stride. “Accusing each other of lying and cheating. Incriminating your family and so-called friends. You’ve all got cause to be angry with Jasper. Take Jade. She thinks she’s in love with him and is furious he doesn’t feel the same way. She’s been spying on Jasper and Abella, and trying to get between them. That’s why she told everyone he planned to propose. Her hope wasshe could ruin the relationship. She wanted Jasper’s attention all for herself.”
Jade’s lips quivered as I spoke. Here was a girl who’d spread rumors about the Sinclairs for her own entertainment. Now she looked helpless and lost. What she’d done was finally sinking in. Emotionally exhausted, the girl rested a heavy head on her father’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Miles stiffened. “If you’re suggesting my daughter—”
“I’m suggesting her teenage bullshit damaged this investigation. But I’m not concerned about Jade anymore. I’d rather talk about Bebe.
“Bebe,” I said, “did something even more astonishing. She tried to pin a murder on the victim himself by suggesting Jasper faked the scene and fled the island. I was sure you and Flynn were in it together,” I told Jasper’s sister. “You need the money. Without a bailout, you’re screwed. Maybe you’re screwed either way—but you weren’t about to let your little brother, the family golden boy, walk off with what remains of Camilla’s fortune. Yes, Bebe wanted to conceal the fact that she’d slept with Ned, but it’s Camilla she’s trying to deceive. What you did with Ned would likely destroy any remaining possibility Camilla might leave you some money—a delusion, in my opinion,” I said to the woman, “but I guess a girl can dream. I’m sure you were concerned about Flynn’s reaction. You knew he’d been violent with Jasper—there’s no way you didn’t see that growing up in a house with them—and taking Ned from him was the most egregious of acts. But you were fully dressed when Wellington and I found you upstairs in the hall. You’d even had time to put on your pearls. That means you couldn’t have strangled Abella, and you don’t have the strength to get Jasper out of the house anyway.
“Flynn and Jasper got in a fight last night, outside in the yard, and Flynn hit him,” I said. “All the more reason to think Flynn went upstairs to finish the job. Except he didn’t. Neither of you did.”
“How do you know that?” said Miles.
“We know,” I said, “because of Abella. Abella wasn’t a part of your family drama. She died because she found out something about last night. Something happened today that allowed her to identify the killer—and the killer knew she’d tell us what it was. Whoever murdered Jasper also killed Abby. Flynn was laid out down here, and Bebe had no reason to want Jasper’s girlfriend dead.”
Everyone in the room was looking increasingly alarmed, and that gave me a rush of confidence. After the day I’d had, the sensation felt so foreign it caught me unawares. I’d thought this through, examined Camilla’s guests like slabs of hooked meat, and searched every part of them for signs of rot. I had finally reached a conclusion. It felt good. No, it felt great.
“That takes us to Ned.” At the sound of his name, Ned recoiled. “Ned also makes an excellent suspect—don’t you think, Wellington?”
“Uh, yeah, excellent,” Tim said, trying to play along.
“And Ned had motive, too—just not the one you submitted to us, Miles. Jasper stood in the way of something Ned wanted. When he heard the rumor about the engagement from Jade, and realized it was Abby who saw him in the shed with Bebe, he knew he was about to lose his chance. Last night, Ned went upstairs to profess his love to Abella. But Jasper’s body was already gone.”
Bebe emitted a squeak of surprise, though I couldn’t tell if she was reacting to the news about Ned and Abby or her brother. To his credit, Tim didn’t say a word as I let the man who’d just threatened to shoot me off the hook. “Ned was able to identify the shapeof the bloodstain,” I said for my colleague’s benefit, “in a crime scene he never set eyes on this morning. Ned’s not our guy.”
“You saw blood on my brother’s bed last night,” Flynn said to Ned, “and you walked away?” I didn’t like the look in his eyes, his supreme state of calm. “You were inlove?” Flynn went on. “With that dead littlebitch?”
All the talk of Abella had sent Ned into a stupor, and I wondered if Flynn’s words registered. Ned’s apathy enraged Flynn even more. Flynn’s motions were swift and decisive. One—grab the candlestick from the mantel. Two—lunge. Three—bring the object down on the side of Ned’s head. It smacked flesh and bone with a sickening thud and Ned’s tall, lean body crumpled to the floor.
Before anyone could blink, Tim had Flynn facedown on the rug next to Ned. From under his heavy brow Flynn stared in horror at what he’d done. His hair was wild and his mustache dripped with sweat or tears, I didn’t know which. Blood, so thick it was almost black, pulsed from Ned’s head.
It was the first time I found myself in close proximity to Jade’s screams, and I thought my eardrums might explode. Miles pulled her up and ushered her to the door, near where Norton sat. “Nobody move!” I shouted as Bebe, too, struggled to distance herself from Ned’s motionless body. “Stay where you are!”