The Paper Caper, page 14
Derek broke the news of Hobson’s death to him. At first the man didn’t say a word. Then I heard him say, “You’ve got to be kidding. That can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “But it’s very true, and there’s more.”
“Tell me everything, damn it. Fast.”
“Hobson was murdered. The police are on their way.”
“What?” he shouted.
“We can talk about the details later,” Derek said. “Right now, you’ve got to get over here. I’m going to call for a car to pick you up.”
“But the contest . . .” Joseph hesitated, then said, “Never mind. That’s not important. I need to be there.”
“I’ll contact the three agents staying there with you. They’ll get you home.”
Derek looked exhausted as he ended the call. I understood the feeling.
I walked over to the terrace wall and stared out at the Marin Headlands.
Derek joined me and we were both quiet for a few minutes.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
“Yes,” I whispered. “The cool morning air reminds me of Stockholm.”
He tried to suppress a laugh. “That’s very rude of you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But it begged to be said.”
“Yes. Sadly it did.”
“My only defense is that rudeness seems to run rampant in this house.”
“It does get to be a bit much.” In most cases, that would’ve been as close as Derek would get to criticizing anyone. But I knew that this group had driven him to the brink.
My phone rang and I stared at the screen. “Inspector Lee.” I answered, gave her our location, and was told she’d be here within a half hour.
I slipped my phone into my pocket, grabbed Derek’s hand, and held it tightly. “So.” I gave him a sideways glance. “Hobson. I did not see that coming.”
“Nor did I.” His jaw was clenched in a way that told me he was already mulling over different possibilities and scenarios. Gazing at me, he asked, “How did you know not to get close to the parchment?”
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “Not at first. From where I was standing in the foyer, I couldn’t see the proclamation paper at all. Hobson was busy being rude to Tom, blocking him from getting hold of the proclamation that was meant for him. He was blocking it from me, too.”
“The ultimate irony,” Derek said slowly, “is that Hobson probably saved Tom’s life by withholding the document.”
“How strange is that?” I said. “Anyway, I couldn’t see the paper until he dropped it onto the side table. And then it was too late. When I walked over and got a look at that distinctive golden glow, I knew almost certainly that it was the murder weapon. I just don’t know how they managed to duplicate the formula.”
“It was just as you described it in the Poisoned Papers exhibit.”
“Exactly,” I said, and gave Derek a contemplative look. “We can probably assume that Hobson never saw the exhibit. Otherwise he might’ve known to avoid touching it.”
“That’s a semireasonable assumption,” he said.
I sighed. “But who in this group did see the exhibit? Who saw it and thought, hey, that’s a perfect way to murder someone?”
“Problem is, it’s actually a terrible way to murder someone.”
“I agree.” I explained to Derek in more detail the process of concocting the poison and then adding it to an adhesive.
“Would that be difficult to do?”
“Well, I’d consider it difficult. And I’d assume that whoever it was had to have seen that exhibit and read all the literature that the Covington handed out.”
“There’s literature attached to the exhibit?” Derek asked.
“Yes. They have printed index cards that you can take.”
“And these cards tell you how they applied poison to the paper?”
“Well, not specifically,” I admitted. “In the original case, they didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident. The card simply explains that it was done, but doesn’t go into how it was done. But a smart, devious killer could extrapolate from there.”
“I would guess that it just takes one query on Google,” Derek said wryly, “and you’ve got yourself a formula for poison. And by extension, murder.”
“The exhibit makes it pretty clear without actually spelling it out. I found it all fascinating, but then I’m a book and paper geek.”
He smiled at me. “I fully appreciate your geekiness.”
“Thank you.”
But now he frowned. “It would’ve been far simpler to slip some cyanide in his morning coffee and be done with it.”
“I agree, but where’s the creativity in that?” My mind wandered back to the scene in the foyer. “Did you see how Hobson was holding the paper up to his face? I think he was literally breathing in the poison.”
“He didn’t have his glasses with him,” Derek remembered. “Said he couldn’t read the small print.”
“And he kept sniffing the whole time,” I said. “He was always doing that. With his nose in the air. It was his way of showing his contempt.”
“Unfortunately you’re right. This morning his contempt was aimed at Stipley and Tom, but I’ve seen him behave that way with others.” Derek scowled. “And it killed him.”
“A cautionary tale?” I wondered. “Killed by his own contempt?”
Derek gave me a long, level look. “Who hated Hobson this much?”
I matched his look with my own. “Who didn’t? We saw him fighting with Ingrid last night. And Joseph. And Tom, of course. And just this morning there was Stipley. And remember the little housemaid, Edith? The one who took my coat when we first arrived last night?”
“Yes, of course.”
“He was so condescending to her.” I shook my head in disgust. “I hate to keep mentioning about that sniffing thing he does, but he was doing it to her, too. I guess she wasn’t holding the guests’ coats in a way that pleased him.” I rolled my eyes. “Such a snob. I saw Edith give him a few dirty looks right there in the foyer.”
“Hmm. I’ll talk to her,” he said. “Or rather, I’ll suggest to the police that they talk to her.”
“I doubt she had anything to do with Hobson’s death, but she’s one more name on the list of people who might’ve held a grudge against him.”
Derek turned to me. “I don’t know why we’re assuming that Hobson was the intended victim. The two proclamations were addressed to Joseph and Tom.”
“That’s right.” I patted his shoulder. “And the deliveryman specifically announced that the envelope was for Joseph Cabot.”
“Yes, he did. We all heard it.”
“But since I like both Joseph and Tom, I would rather not think of them as potential victims.”
“I feel the same way,” Derek said, “but it appears that they were both targeted. Which means I’ve got to call in more agents to protect them.”
“It would really make things easier for all of us if Hobson were the intended victim. He was a pretty awful guy. Always picking fights with people.”
“Yes. He was quite vocal in his aversion to Tom.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I said. “And don’t forget that Hobson threatened to reveal some deep dark secret of Joseph’s. They had that horrible fight just last night and I’ll bet that wasn’t the first time they fought.”
“And yet Joseph trusted Hobson with his life,” Derek said. “We talked about it briefly last night, but Joseph once told me that his butler was the best friend he ever had.”
With friends like that, I reflected, but didn’t complete the thought. “Maybe Joseph came to realize that he was trusting Hobson with too many secrets. Maybe he worried that Hobson was about to betray him.”
Derek stared out at the gray sky. “So Joseph could have arranged for the poisoned parchment to be delivered, knowing that Hobson would insist on opening the envelope.” He looked to me. “I believe we need to visit that Covington exhibit again. And maybe even do our own experimenting with the process.”
“I love that idea in theory, but it sounds pretty dangerous.” I made a mental note to stop by the Poisoned Papers exhibit later today to revisit the highlights. “Okay, so we were talking about Joseph.”
“Yes,” Derek said. “Don’t you think it’s rather convenient that the envelope arrived while Joseph was away from the house?”
“Both convenient and suspicious,” I said, leaning my elbow against the railing. “Oh, and I know you don’t really suspect Joseph of this crime, but I’ll play along.”
“No, of course I don’t.”
We both considered the Joseph scenario for a minute. Then Derek said, “Tell me why you think Joseph might’ve arranged to poison Hobson.”
“Well, I don’t, actually, but we’re playing along, right? Last night when they were arguing, Hobson threatened to reveal some deep dark secret that could ruin Joseph. And thinking back on that moment, I wonder if he was angry enough to have killed him. I mean, how could he trust Hobson after that? And we saw him when he was angry. He practically turned purple. How could Joseph trust someone who’s so volatile?”
“He did seem to have lost control of his emotions.”
“To be honest,” I admitted, “Joseph wasn’t doing much better. I mean, he was really fuming. They were both furious with each other.”
Derek shook his head and muttered, “Over this stupid contest.”
“At first I thought Joseph was simply angry on Tom’s behalf because Hobson was being so demeaning toward Tom.”
“I had that thought as well,” Derek said. “Hobson was nearly apoplectic that Joseph expected him to be Tom’s manservant for a few days. But there was a lot more going on beneath the surface than just the contest.”
“Exactly. And I think that Joseph was much more annoyed that Hobson was threatening to reveal a dark secret, than he was about the butler’s bad attitude toward Tom.”
“That make sense,” Derek reasoned. “It’s much more personal.”
I smiled at Derek. “We could always simply ask Joseph.”
Derek smiled back. “We could indeed.”
I stared out at the view. A quarter of a mile away, over to the right, the bottom half of the Golden Gate Bridge was revealed while the top half was still shrouded by the marine layer. I gazed up at Derek. “You know, Hobson could’ve planned this whole thing as a way to kill either Joseph or Tom. He’s so fussy and demanding. I bet he had the brains and the perseverance to figure out the formula for blending the golden powder with the adhesive.”
“I agree with everything you’ve said about Hobson, except that if he’d planned to kill Joseph with this gold powder, he wouldn’t have opened the envelope.”
“No. He would’ve handed it to Tom and watched him die. Or he would’ve waited until Joseph showed up, given him the envelope, and watched him die.”
“Which means that Hobson can’t be our killer.”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “Unless he intended to commit suicide.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “Which isn’t likely.”
I stared out at the water and frowned. “This is beginning to sound like a scene from The Princess Bride.”
He laughed. “Nevertheless, I’m inclined to believe that the poison that killed Hobson was actually meant to kill Joseph.”
“Not Tom?” I asked.
“No, not Tom,” Derek said. “Because before last night, nobody knew Tom.”
“And Tom really isn’t much of a threat to anyone.”
“Well, except that he’ll get a hundred thousand dollars of Joseph’s money.”
I chuckled. “If that were the motivation, then Ella would be our number one suspect.”
“True,” Derek said. “But I can’t see the money being the motivation. It’s literally a drop in the bucket of Joseph’s bank account.” He shook his head. “The money would never come out of Joseph’s bank account. It’s a corporate expense. A corporate write-off.”
“Of course,” I said. “So, I’m going with Joseph as the intended victim.”
“A good guess,” Derek agreed.
“Do you have a guess?”
“I’m not ready to write off Hobson as the intended victim.”
I gave him a speculative look. “That’s bold.”
“That’s me in a nutshell.”
I chuckled.
Derek took my hand. “Let’s walk.”
“Okay.” We left the terrace and strolled out to the front of the house, where a wide patio featured two sets of tables with umbrellas attached and plenty of chairs. The sun was starting to break through the clouds so we sat in the shade and Derek texted George and Roley to check up on things inside the house. They both responded that everything was quiet.
I supposed we could’ve simply walked back into the house to find out how it was going, but neither of us wanted to be inside just now. It might’ve had something to do with the dead body lying in there and some poisoned materials that were responsible for the death of Hobson.
We’d both seen our share of dead bodies in the few years that we’d been together. Right now, I was just happy to appreciate the clean air of Sea Cliff and the clearing sky. It was so much nicer than studying murder.
Derek asked, “Why do you think Hobson was always so rude and insensitive to people?”
“I have no idea where his anger and sociopathic behavior come from, but he was that way with everyone. It was just his thing.”
“His . . . thing,” he repeated slowly.
I smiled. “His raison d’être. His purpose in life. You know, I’m a jerk, therefore I am.”
“So his life’s purpose was to make people miserable.”
“Maybe. I mean, he was kind of a jackass.”
“We haven’t talked about Ella or Ingrid,” Derek said. “They both seemed to like him. Until that awful argument happened between him and Ingrid.”
I gazed at him for a minute and finally said, “Ingrid is surely capable of murder, but I’m not as certain about Ella. What do you think?”
Derek considered the question. “I believe both of them could hold a grudge, and they’re obviously jealous of other women.”
“I haven’t seen Ella get jealous of anyone. Even when Joseph was hugging Ashley, Ella showed almost no reaction at all. Of course, Ingrid was beside herself. So maybe Ella lets her mother fight her battles for her.”
“Maybe.”
“But more importantly,” I said, “I just don’t know if either of them would be able to work the poisoned parchment angle.”
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “What about Ashley?”
I blinked a few times. “Ashley. Wow. I never even considered her as a suspect.”
“She’s very close to Joseph.”
“True. But why would she care about Hobson?”
“Maybe Joseph confided in her.” Derek pushed his chair back from the table. “Maybe he told her that Hobson was making threats. If she cares about him, she might turn on anyone who threatened him.”
I thought about it. “She definitely has brains and ambition. If anyone could formulate the gold powder and adhesive into a poison, it would be Ashley. She’s a wizard.”
“She is quite talented and personable.” He nodded. “But I can’t see her concocting some poisonous powder on paper to kill her boss’s butler.”
“Concocting poisonous powder on paper is much more my style,” I said lightly.
“Shhh,” he said, pressing his finger against my lips. “We ought not mention that to Inspector Lee.”
As if on cue, the gate was pushed open and Inspector Janice Lee walked onto the front patio. She was putting her phone in her purse when she glanced up and smiled. “You guys. Of all the gin joints . . .”
I grinned from ear to ear. “Inspector Lee. I’m so glad to see you.”
Derek stood. “Hello, Inspector.”
“Commander,” she said. “Brooklyn.”
I beamed at her, and after a second or two of indecision, I grabbed her in a hug.
“Easy there, girl,” she said, and laughed as she lightly slapped my back.
“It’s just so good to see you,” I said. “What’s new in your life?”
“Oh, not much.” She shrugged. “They’re trying to match me up with a new partner.”
“Really?”
When we first met Inspector Lee, she’d been partnered with Nathan Jaglow, a wonderfully patient man in his fifties with curly gray hair and a sad, sweet smile. He had been the good cop to her bad cop, but he had retired a couple of years ago to hang out with his grandkids. From all indications, Inspector Jaglow was loving the life he was living.
Ever since then, Inspector Lee had been flying solo. A new partner would be an adjustment for her. And for me, too, I thought. Although it wasn’t about me, I reminded myself.
“I hope they find someone fantastic,” I said. “You deserve the very best.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said.
“I mean it. You’re the best and that’s what you deserve in a partner.”
“I completely concur,” Derek said.
I rolled my eyes. “Sorry to gush.”
“Hey, gush away. I like it.” She sat down on one of the chairs and leaned back. “We’ll see how it goes. Anyway, it’s been a while. Guess you haven’t been causing much trouble lately.”
“I’ve missed you so much that I arranged this little bit of trouble just for you.”
She patted her heart. “You shouldn’t have.”
I shrugged. “I know, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“Darling,” Derek said in a loud whisper. “Let me remind you, this woman has the power to throw you into a jail cell.”
“And don’t forget it,” Inspector Lee said lightly.
I grimaced. “You’re right, and I shouldn’t make a joke of it. There’s a dead body inside the house and it’s got a really weird story to go along with it.”
