Arsenic And Old Books

I told her the story of Major Andrew Long’s desertion and its aftermath. I kept it short, and she grew paler by the syllable. When I finished, I thought she might keel over in a dead faint.

Kanesha and I waited for Mrs. Long to respond to what I’d related to her. She gazed wildly at me and wet her lips a couple of times. “My dear Lord,” she said, “this will kill my husband if it ever gets out. He’s always been so proud of his family, and his distinguished lineage. You can’t let this be made public. You simply can’t.” Her voice rose on the last three words to nearly a shriek.

“I don’t intend to tell anyone,” I said. “I give you my solemn promise on that.”

The mayor turned to Kanesha. “Will it have to come out?”

“I don’t know, Your Honor,” Kanesha said. “The pages had to be taken into evidence because of the seriousness of the crime. It will be up to the prosecutors to decide whether it’s relevant to the murder. If they deem it is, then it probably will come out.”

Mrs. Long nodded wearily. “I’d like to go now, if you don’t mind. I have to tell my son he can’t use that story about the slave woman before it’s too late. Singletary would turn him into a complete laughingstock.”

“Let me walk you down to your car,” Kanesha said. “I’ll be back, Mr. Harris.”

I stared at her. I couldn’t believe she was letting the mayor go. Wasn’t she going to charge her with the murder of Marie Steverton?

I was stunned. I was sure the mayor was responsible, but I began to realize that if Kanesha had the evidence to make the charge, she would have. There were obviously pieces of the puzzle still missing, at least officially.

Diesel climbed from the windowsill into my lap, and I hugged him against me. He purred, and I knew we both felt better. We snuggled until Kanesha returned about three minutes later. Then Diesel wanted to get back into his spot in the window.

“That’s one thing settled,” Kanesha said as she sat across from me. “I know you’re probably wondering why I didn’t charge her with the murder.”

“Yes, the thought did cross my mind,” I said wryly.

“I couldn’t,” Kanesha said. “She didn’t do it.”

THIRTY-NINE

“If Mrs. Long didn’t run down Marie, then who did?” I asked. “Was it Beck? Or maybe that man Kittredge?”

Kanesha shook her head. “No, Beck Long and his associate Kittredge both have alibis. They were down in Jackson that evening, meeting with a public relations specialist until around one in the morning. They couldn’t have driven back to Athena in time.”

“Why are you so sure Mrs. Long didn’t do it?” I still thought the mayor was the most likely candidate for murderer.

“We checked her car, her husband’s, her son’s personal vehicle, even their housekeeper’s car,” Kanesha said. “None of them had any kind of damage, and we know that the car that hit Dr. Steverton had at least minor scratches to the blinker on the front passenger side. Also, preliminary evidence on the paint residue on Dr. Steverton’s clothing didn’t match the makes or models of any of those cars.”

That sounded pretty conclusive. Then another possibility occurred to me. “What about rental cars? Couldn’t one of them have rented a car just for the purpose?”

“We’re checking rental car agencies in a hundred-mile radius,” Kanesha said. “The Mississippi Bureau of Investigation is helping with that. If necessary we’ll extend the radius farther. I’m hoping for a report from them sometime today.”

“So it’s still possible that Mrs. Long or her husband could have rented a car and used it to run Marie down.”

“Yes, it’s possible,” Kanesha said, “but I don’t think either of them did that. Renting a car takes time and effort, and unless Mrs. Long had planned in advance to do it, I can’t see where she had the time to arrange for and pick up a rental, even with her husband’s help.” She leaned forward. “Look, we know from phone records that Dr. Steverton didn’t call the mayor until close to midnight that night. We’re checking into calls from Dr. Steverton’s office in the history department, now that we know she must have gone there at some point in the afternoon or evening in order to put the diary pages into the campus mail.”

I took a moment to digest all that, and I had to agree—albeit somewhat reluctantly—that Kanesha was right. The mayor seemed to be out of the picture as the murderer. Given the mayor’s reaction when I shared with her the contents of those pages, I believed she had not heard any of it before. Clearly Marie hadn’t disclosed it to her at any point. The mayor had been far too shocked to be acting, despite her years on the political stage.

“Did Marie call anyone else that evening?” I asked.

“Not from her home phone,” Kanesha said. “That’s why we’re checking on her office phone. I have the feeling that she must have called someone else. I am pretty sure I know who she did call.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Jasper Singletary.”