She’d better be very careful what she shared with him!
She glanced over the information on the sheet, the name of the deputy who had taken the statements of the witnesses. Ralph Sellers, whom Diane was visiting today. She looked up at Marge. “Do you know where Ralph Sellers lives?”
Marge shook her head, but Ms. Tennings asked, “You mean, the owner of Sellers Poultry? My friend Agatha goes there regularly to get fresh eggs. She claims they are much better than the ones you buy at the mall.”
“Yes, that one.”
“I could give you the address right away. Why?”
“I want to go out there and see him, ask him a few questions. If I leave now, I might also catch up with Diane and tell her the latest about Mortimer Gill’s murder and her phone number being on his list. Maybe she can explain why it’s there.”
Marge nodded. “If this is really all Mortimer had on Deke Rowland, it’s not much. The car sightings in themselves prove so little. The Jaguar might not even have belonged to someone local. I bet that in the summer season back then Glen Cove County was brimming with tourists, just like it is today.”
“Right,” Vicky said. “Maybe Mortimer had just meant to approach Deke to test the waters and, if he got a guilty response to his suggestion, close in for the squeeze. I don’t think he really cared whether the other was the killer or not. As long as he got his money. And Deke Rowland has the deepest purse of anybody in town, you know.”
She glanced over the next sheet. It dealt with the find of a thin gauze scarf in Michael Danning’s car, in front of the passenger seat. At the time it had been used as important evidence against him, refuting his statement that he had not seen Celine on the night of her disappearance. But as they had been a couple at the time, it was possible Celine had lost the scarf on some other occasion prior to her disappearance.
Ms. Tennings said softly, “The item under the headline on this newspaper photocopy says that a thin scarf would have been an excellent means to strangle somebody. It would leave no blood. That would explain why there were no traces of violence found in the car, but Michael Danning was still accused. It says here he was even held for a few days.”
Vicky’s chest was tight at the memories. “If Michael had hurt Celine, he would hardly have been dumb enough to leave that scarf in his car,” she said defensively. “He would have made sure it vanished with her body.”
Shivering at the mental picture this conjured, she quickly overturned the incriminating sheet to scan the third and last one. It declared that Celine, or someone looking just like her, had been seen with a man. They had walked closely together, the man holding his arm around the woman, the woman leaning her head on the man’s shoulder. Like a couple in love.
“Look at that.” Ms. Tennings pointed. On the reverse side of the second sheet was a small sticky note that should probably have been on the third.
Mortimer had scribbled another observation on it. Drunk or drugged? D.? And then an illegible word and a capital J.
“Terrible handwriting,” Marge said with a grimace. “What on earth does cougiu mean? And are those remarks on the sticky notes Mortimer’s own suggestions, or something he inferred from other police reports he read?”
“I’m not sure,” Vicky said. “If he had more, it’s not here. Maybe there is something hidden at the birdcages, but we won’t know that until tonight.”
She fumbled with the sticky note that didn’t want to paste to the page anymore. “Right now I wonder if Ralph Sellers can clarify these eyewitness accounts. The suggestion Celine was drugged is especially interesting. It means the abductor actually needed to dull her wits to get her to come with him. That excludes Michael. Celine knew and trusted him.”
“Right,” Marge said. “You can take my car. I’ll take the dogs back to your mother later this morning.” She dug out her car keys.
Ms. Tennings put away her knitting in her large purse and extracted an old grocery list to write the address of Sellers Poultry on. “I’ll follow up on another angle,” she said handing over the address slip. “Most people in this town have some financial tie with the Rowland empire, so it would have been natural for Mortimer Gill to call the offices about that.”
Marge made a face. “Courtesy of Everett Baker. All the real estate he handles goes via Deke. We bought our own house via Everett and then took out the mortgage via Deke. I can’t say it’s a real squeeze, but there is a lot of small print. Deke sure isn’t getting any worse off his financial transactions.”
Ms. Tennings nodded. “So I will try and find out if Mortimer Gill owed Rowland’s company money and if those payments were overdue. Once we have excluded the more innocent explanations for their personal contact, we can get down to the real meat.”
“Thanks, but how can you find out what Mortimer owed Deke’s company?” Vicky asked curiously. “I thought financial records were notoriously hard to get into.”
“That’s my secret.” Ms. Tennings grinned. “Let’s just say I’m well connected. I’ll let you all know as soon as I have made any progress.”
She went for the door. Mr. Pug followed her, brushing her leg with his nose as if to wish her good luck.
Turning at the door, Ms. Tennings said to Vicky, “Don’t blame yourself that Michael Danning is in jail. If Mortimer’s death is connected with Celine Dobbs’ disappearance, a killer got antsy and killed again to protect himself. That is not your fault. On the contrary, it opens up new possibilities to make sure justice is done. Even after all of those years.”
The door fell to a close behind her. Mr. Pug returned to Vicky and looked up at her with a whine. “Yes, we’ll get down to business as well,” Vicky said, leaning down to pat him.
Her hands were still shaking with the discovery and all it might mean, but Ms. Tennings’ remark made her feel somewhat better. At least she had friends around her offering their help and support, to find out whatever they could about the old case.
Eager to meet up with Diane, she wanted to leave too, but Marge halted her with an anxious expression. “Are you going to share this evidence with Cash when you see him about the birds? I suppose there is some obligation, legally or morally. But we can’t be sure it wasn’t Cash in the red Jaguar that night. It would be stupid to give this evidence to him, and risk him misplacing it.”
Vicky hesitated. She didn’t want to believe Cash would do something like that. But she was honestly not sure if she could trust him. He could be protecting his brother Deke.
Vicky knew of several instances during their teenage friendship in which Cash had taken the blame for things Deke had done wrong. Cash had been older and stronger than the gullible, easily persuadable Deke, who had often been prompted into trouble by greedy friends. Whenever unpleasant consequences had caught up with him, Deke had come running to Cash for a way out. And Cash had never said no, not even if he got hurt himself picking up the pieces for his little brother.
Vicky could hardly imagine Cash would protect him if he had killed a girl, but what if Deke had convinced him it had been an accident and he had never meant to kill Celine?
And what had Cash’s real reason been for showing up so late at the fire? Michael had told her there had been no bar fights that night, no call for assistance that would justify Cash’s absence. Cash had lied about that, and Vicky had no idea why.
She took a deep breath and decided. “No, we don’t give it to Cash yet. I’ll just ask him for permission to be on Mortimer Gill’s premises. Then we can search for additional material. All night if we have to.”
“Right. Good luck.”
Outside Vicky collected Marge’s car and drove off to Sellers Poultry.
A large painted sign along the road told her there were fresh eggs for sale