Connecting Rooms(12)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“Gordon tried to do just that. He knew I could identify him. Fortunately, he was already rattled because of the first killing. His shot went wild. I had a chance to hurl my cellular phone at him. He instinctively ducked. I ran back the way I had come and headed for the emergency stairwell. I didn’t dare wait for the elevators.”

Owen closed his eyes briefly. “My God.”

“Gordon tried to chase me down the stairwell. But he stumbled on one of the steps.” Amy shuddered. “He fell to the bottom. Broke his neck.”

Owen exhaled heavily. “Damn.” He reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. He crushed her fingers gently in his own.

Silence descended once more. Amy and Owen watched the ducks on the pond for a long while.

• • •

“Nothing. Nada. Zilch.” Owen glanced at the notes he had made during his last phone call. He flipped the small notebook shut and tossed it onto the bedside table. He looked at Amy, who was lounging, arms folded beneath her br**sts, in the connecting doorway. “Arthur Crabshaw is as clean as you can expect a fifty-five-year-old businessman to be.”

“No scandals while down in Arizona?”

“No. At least not that my sources could determine in such a limited period of time. I suppose it’s possible that Crabshaw left a few bodies buried under one of his strip malls, but I don’t think it’s very likely.”

Amy tapped her toe, thinking. “The blackmail arrangement we witnessed this morning seemed fairly amateurish, didn’t it?”

“Yes.” Owen walked to the window and looked out at the park. “A toilet tank lid in a library restroom. Definitely the work of an amateur. And a local amateur, at that.”

“Local?”

“Crabshaw was told to leave the money in the public library. The implication is that he’s being blackmailed by someone here in Villantry.”

“Okay, that makes sense. But he’s been gone for thirty years.”

“And that means that his deep, dark secret, whatever it is, probably dates back thirty years,” Owen said softly.

“To the time when he worked for Raymond C. Villantry?”

“Yes.” Owen turned away from the window. “I think it’s time I paid a call on Arthur Crabshaw.”

“I’ll get my purse.”

“You will stay right here in this room,” Owen said.

“I’m paying your tab, remember? That means I can make executive decisions.”

“When I’m on a case, I give the orders.”

“You need me to help analyze his reactions,” Amy said persuasively. “I’m very good at that kind of thing. It’s my real estate sales experience, you see. I’m what you might call an amateur practicing psychologist.”

“Forget it, Amy. I’m handling this alone.”

• • •

Arthur Crabshaw looked momentarily nonplussed to see Amy and Owen on his doorstep. Amy was sure she saw evidence of tension around his eyes. But he recovered with alacrity. He smiled genially and ushered them into his front room.

“Well, well, well.” He closed the door. “This is a surprise. What can I do for you two?”

“How was the golf game this morning?” Owen asked softly.

Arthur’s smile slipped for only an instant. He quickly got it back in place. “Fine. Just fine. Shot a three over par. Although I have to admit that on the Villantry Golf Course that’s not saying a great deal.”

“Must have been a fast round,” Owen said.

Arthur’s gaze turned wary. “Why do you say that?”

Amy held her breath as Owen removed the incriminating envelope from his pocket.

“Because you finished in time to visit the library, didn’t you?” Owen said.

Arthur stared at the envelope. Then he raised his eyes to meet Owen’s unrelenting gaze. His expression crumbled into weary despair. “How did you find out?”

“Amy and I were in the library at the time. We saw you go into the restroom. I went in after you and found this.” Owen glanced at the envelope. “I thought maybe you’d like to talk about it.”

“There’s not much to say now, is there?” Arthur sank down heavily into an armchair. “If you’ve got the money, that means the blackmailer didn’t get his payoff. He’ll reveal the truth, just as he threatened to do in his first note.”

Owen went to stand in front of Arthur. “What happens if he does reveal the truth, Crabshaw?”

“Madeline Villantry will be humiliated in front of her family and the entire town.” Arthur sighed. “And I seriously doubt that Bernice will marry me when she discovers that Madeline and I once had an affair. Bernice is such a sensitive woman. Bad enough that Madeline used to steal her boyfriends back in high school. How will she feel if she finds out that I was once Madeline’s lover?”

Chapter 6

“I think you’d better start from the beginning,” Owen said.

“I worked for Madeline’s husband, Raymond C. Villantry.” Arthur massaged his temples. “Just like almost everyone else did at the time. I was young. Couldn’t afford college. But I was determined to make something of myself.”

“At Villantry?” Amy asked.

“No, I had my sights set a lot higher. But Villantry was a start, and a good one. I knew who Madeline was, of course. Everyone in Villantry did. Her family was as rich as the Villantrys. I didn’t move in Madeline’s circles in those days, though.” Arthur grimaced. “Only the Villantrys did.”

“Go on,” Owen said.

“Madeline married Raymond Villantry right out of college. Everyone said it was a perfect match. I honestly believe that she was wildly in love with him in the beginning. But Villantry just took her for granted. He was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. Then, after he got it, he lost interest. The only exception was the company. He was passionate about it.”

“What happened?” Amy asked gently.

“I was doing well at Villantry.” Arthur leaned his head back against the chair. “Had a flair for business. Madeline and I were thrown together on a number of occasions because she was on the planning commission for the original library building. Civic duty and all that.”

“Why did that bring the two of you together?” Amy asked.

“Villantry’s firm had expanded beyond fishing by then. It was into construction. It was going to build the library. I was assigned to act as a liaison between the planning commission and the company. Raymond Villantry had better things to do with his time than fuss with the library that was to be named in his honor.”