The Drowned Woman Page 12

  ‘No,’ Wade said. ‘No casualties. No fatalities.’

  ‘You know how difficult it is to find a place to live in Marin County or the City for that matter? What are we supposed to do?’ Zeke stood up now, too. I had never seen him this angry before. ‘It just never ends. I cannot have any peace.’

  I thought of the furniture that we had bought together for our new home, the happy hours we had spent deciding what went where. I thought of Zeke, clad in an apron, in our tiny kitchen making some precise sauce to put atop our fish. Gone. Reduced to ashes.

  ‘You know full well that you can’t just step out of the life you’ve been living without repercussions. You’ve made enemies, Zeke. You’ll need diligence for the rest of your life. You know that. Sarah knows that. But never mind. I’ll personally find you another place to live when you’re ready to come home.’ Wade refilled his glass and Zeke’s before he sat back down. ‘You’ve every right to be furious with me. I will make this right with you, on my honor. But Nick Newland is in town. He cornered Sarah today. Right now I need to focus on keeping him quiet.’

  ‘I want protection for Sarah,’ Zeke said. ‘You can’t keep our presence here a secret forever. I demand that you assume that Hendrik Shrader knows where we are.’

  ‘It’s done. There are men in place now.’ Wade looked at me. ‘I’ve six men on the perimeter of the house. They will be there around the clock. If you want an agent inside, I can do that, too.’

  ‘That’s not necessary,’ I said. ‘I’ll keep the doors locked. You’ve got the exterior covered. That should be sufficient.’

  ‘Sarah—’ Zeke started to speak.

  ‘No. I don’t want to upset the others. I’ll stay locked in the house unless you are with me. Daphne, Granna, Simon, and Toby don’t need to know about Hendrik Shrader.’ I looked at Wade. ‘Just make sure no harm comes to them, Wade. Promise me you’ll keep them safe.’

  ‘I promise,’ Wade said.

  ‘What about Newland?’

  ‘I am going to bribe him,’ Wade said.

  ‘With what?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m going to promise him an exclusive on the murder investigation, as long as he doesn’t publish anything until the case is resolved. I’ve already arranged it with Bateson. Now I just need to convince Mr Newland.’ Wade finished his drink and stood up. ‘I was just going to discuss the logistics of my plan with him now.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Zeke said. ‘In case he needs some extra persuading.’

  Zeke kissed my cheek and left me on the couch, numb and frightened, images of our house – now reduced to cinders – floating around in my head.

  * * *

  The next morning, Zeke insisted that I learn to use my gun. And rather than have an FBI agent with me at all times, I capitulated. We set out early for the old barn, in an attempt to beat the heat. Neither one of us spoke of Hendrik Shrader, Simon, or Ken Connor’s murder.

  ‘Your leg seems better today,’ I said.

  ‘The exercise seems to help.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It should rain soon.’

  ‘But there’s not a cloud in the sky.’

  ‘Trust me, my love. The rain is coming.’

  Zeke brought ear protection for both of us. ‘Wear these, or your ears will ring for hours, my love. No need to suffer.’ He set a series of tin cans on the picnic table in a clean, even line. We spent a few minutes going over safety issues. Zeke showed me the proper way to stand, hold the gun, and how to sight my target.

  ‘When you shoot this, it’s going to be loud, so prepare yourself. Don’t pull the trigger,’ he said. ‘Just squeeze it with your finger.’

  I did as he instructed. I lined up the sight and squeezed. The loud boom of the shot reverberated. Birds flew from the trees. Horses took off running, the sound of galloping hooves reverberating through the ground beneath us.

  ‘I’ve woken up the neighborhood,’ I said.

  ‘You missed,’ Zeke said. ‘Try again. Just line the sight of the gun and focus on those cans.’

  I tried again. And missed again.

  ‘It’d help if she’d open her eyes,’ Daphne said. She strode through the tall grass toward us, a teasing smile on her face. ‘And she needs to relax her shoulders. Sarah, don’t think so much.’ She pulled a pair of ear protectors out of the rucksack she carried and placed them on her head. Then she took the gun from me, faced the cans, and positioned her feet so they were shoulder width apart. She pulled the trigger and hit the can dead on.

  ‘Very good, Daph,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sarah. It takes practice.’ She used her hand to shield her eyes as she tipped her head back, looking at the barn. ‘This place is a hazard.’

  ‘It really is,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Add it to the list of things to deal with,’ Daphne said. ‘Zeke, I’ve come to tell you that you’re wanted at the mill. Simon says to come right away.’ She helped us gather up the tin cans and stow the ear protectors back in the car. I put my gun back in the case. We walked back to the house, enjoying the cool morning air.

  ‘Simon told me about your home. I hope you’ll both consider staying here. You know you’re welcome.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘We really can’t make any plans yet,’ Zeke said. ‘We’re certainly going to stay until the mill is back up and running.’

  Once we got back to the house, Zeke changed into work clothes, kissed my cheek, and left me with Daphne. We sat together at a table on the patio, enjoying the last vestige of crisp morning air. In another half an hour, it would be hot. Again.

  ‘Do you want to go riding?’ Daphne asked. ‘I’ve a horse that’s as gentle as can be.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t ride,’ I said.

  ‘No, really, this horse is the equivalent of sitting in a chair.’ Daphne smiled at me.

  ‘I have so much work. Can I take a rain check?’

  ‘Of course.’ Daphne folded the newspaper she had been reading and tucked it under her plate, arranging it just so. With a sigh, she moved it to the vacant chair between us. ‘Sarah, are you going to look for Helen?’

  ‘I don’t know how I would go about that,’ I said. ‘If she needs to be found, I’m sure the police will find her.’

  ‘No good can come from meddling, Sarah. If I were you, I’d leave her be,’ Daphne said. I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to lie to Daphne, but I also didn’t want her to know that I had every intention of finding Helen.

  ‘Okay. I’m off to the stables,’ Daphne said. We said our goodbyes, and Daphne headed to the barn, walking in long strides.

  Back in my room, another huge bouquet of flowers, arranged in yet another stunning vase, sat on the small table in front of the sofa. A simple note written in Daphne’s handwriting accompanied the arrangement: ‘So sorry to hear about your home in Sausalito. I hope you know you have a home here. In fond friendship, Daphne.’

  Daphne was trying to be my friend, and it seemed that I rebuffed her at every turn. I vowed to make an effort.

  Chapter 13

  Two days passed before I was able to go to Chesterton to see Helen. Dr Geisler sent me a packet of handwritten notes to transcribe, but there was no usual cover letter with this batch, only a single page with the word RUSH scrawled across the top in his handwriting. I spent my days working, while Zeke spent his at the mill, working at a fever pitch to reopen on schedule.

  The newspapers reported the RAF and the Yanks were in the fourth night of an all-out assault on the Reich. The meat and butter shortage continued, Emil Ludwig predicted that Hitler would soon be assassinated, and the Millport Climber continued to outfox the police. Every night another house was burgled. The stories became more and more outlandish, as the Climber’s behavior escalated.

  One morning, right after Zeke and Simon left for the mill, I slipped out of the house, decked out in hat, gloves, and a light coat, despite the blazing heat. Certain that no one had followed me, I caught the nine o’clock train to Chesterton and spent the two-hou
r train trip trying to focus on the pile of newspapers I had grabbed before I left the house. The headlines were bleak: GERMAN PRISONERS AT ANGEL ISLAND ARE SURE OF GERMAN VICTORY! Next to that, a City of Paris ad encouraged shoppers to purchase their springtime dresses for children. When an article by Mrs Pinkerton – whoever she may be – about using corn flakes to extend meat rations made my eyelids go heavy, I stuffed the newspapers into my purse and watched the countryside go by.

  I stepped off the train at 11.05 a.m., stuffed my coat, gloves, and hat in a locker at the station, and headed out onto the street. Chesterton and Millport were both small towns, but Millport had the mill, and all the employees needed for its increased wartime production. Millport bustled with life. The sidewalks were always full of people. The restaurants always with a queue for a table. Chesterton, on the other hand, seemed bucolic and untouched. There was once a coffee shop at the station, but it had a sign in the window announcing that it was closed until further notice. I was the only person to exit the train. Lucky for me, a lone taxi cab stood on the curb.

  ‘One-twenty Maple,’ I said to the driver.

  He didn’t say a word, just drove for about five minutes, turning on a road that was lined in neat little cottages, most of them whitewashed stucco. I paid his fare and dismissed him, knowing that I would swelter on the walk back to the station, but I didn’t care.

  The house, like all the others, had a trim lawn in the front. A brick walkway led up to a spacious porch, with a swing on one side. Helen sat on the swing, her feet curled up underneath her, reading a book. When she saw me, she shut the book and laid it down next to her.

  ‘What are you doing here? You haven’t told anyone where I am, have you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said.

  ‘Were you followed?’ She got up from the swing and surveyed the street. Satisfied that no one else had followed me, she sat back down. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Miss Sarah, but you’ve no business here. How did you find me?’

  ‘Never mind that,’ I said. ‘No one at the house knows I’m here, and I have no intention of telling anyone. I came because I want to help you.’

  ‘Simon didn’t kill anyone. I’m sure of it. And that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Helen, you realize that if Simon is found guilty of murder, he could hang,’ I said.

  ‘He won’t be found guilty because he didn’t do anything. You and Zeke will fix it.’ She started to gnaw her fingernail, realized what she was doing, and sat on her hands.

  ‘But what if we can’t?’

  ‘You can. Zeke will take care of it. He and Wade Connor are very powerful men. They won’t let anything happen to Simon.’

  ‘Helen, why won’t you go to the police? Tell them what you saw. Tell them what you’re afraid of. Zeke and Joe can keep you safe.’

  Tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped them with the back of her sleeve before she shook her head. ‘This isn’t about staying safe. I don’t care about me. This isn’t about me. I’m not talking to anyone. You shouldn’t have come. Please go.’

  Her words were sharp and hurtful, but an underlying tone of desperation hung between us. ‘Simon will be okay.’ Her voice was soft now, defeated. ‘I trust Joe Connor. He’s a good cop.’

  ‘Joe Connor is not allowed to work the case, Helen. It’s a conflict of interest. Detective Bateson has been assigned to the case, and he hates Simon.’

  ‘Please go.’ She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she got up from the swing and stood facing the street, her back to me. ‘Please leave.’

  * * *

  The sweat had soaked through my dress by the time I got back to the station. Defeated, I settled into my seat and closed my eyes. Soon the motion of the train rocked me to sleep, and the two hours zipped by. A hand on my arm awoke me with a start.

  ‘Ma’am.’ The conductor smiled at me and spoke in a gentle voice. ‘I believe your stop is coming up.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, sitting up, surprised that I had slept so long. He nodded and moved down the aisle. The nap served me well. I de-trained rested and refreshed and ready for the next impending disaster.

  I had half a mind to call the house and ask for someone to come and pick me up, but changed my mind when I thought of all the questions I would have to answer. I didn’t want anyone at the house – other than Zeke – to know I had found Helen, so I braved the heat and started the long walk home, sticking to the shaded lanes, not caring that my shoes were getting ruined by the dirt roads. The solitude of the summer day lulled me. The bees buzzed, birds swished in the brush, and the grass waved in sweet golden waves. I savored it all, until a cloak of silence fell over me. The birds stopped singing, even the breeze stopped. Gauging the abandoned barn was just around the corner, I stopped, listening for footsteps.

  When I heard them, I stepped off the road and crept in silence until the barn came into view. Staying out of sight, I watched someone whose face I couldn’t see, nimble and spry as a schoolboy, duck into the barn. Whoever it was carried a rucksack, similar to the one which I had found in Simon’s desk. He was dressed in an untucked baggy shirt, which hung down to his knees. A baseball hat and aviator glasses prevented me from seeing his face or his hair. He ducked into the barn and came out a few seconds later, emptyhanded. I waited, hidden in the bushes, not daring to breathe, until he scurried off. Then I waited some more – just in case he changed his mind and came back – before I went to the barn.

  Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the rotted wood, showing the dust that floated in the air. The smell of rotten hay and mildew assaulted me. I held my nose, so as not to sneeze. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I searched. I found the rucksack stashed behind a pile of rotten wood, the only hiding place available.

  I opened the rucksack and gasped. Even in the dull light of the barn, the silver glistened and gleamed. There was a candelabra and silver flatware – salad forks, dessert forks, knives, spoons, teaspoons, soup spoons. By my quick count, the rucksack held service for sixteen people.

  I had found the Millport Climber’s stash for the second time.

  * * *

  Zeke and Joe were standing in front of the house as I came running up.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ I said to both of them. I dumped my purse, coat, and hat in the foyer, and hurried back down to the driveway where the men stood before Joe’s car. ‘Come with me, please.’ I got in the backseat of the car. ‘We need to go to the old barn.’ Both men stood there, staring at me. ‘Now. Please.’

  Zeke moved first. He hurried around to the front of the car. Soon Joe followed suit and we were on our way.

  ‘Would you care to tell us why we are rushing to the abandoned barn?’ Zeke finally asked.

  ‘I’ve found the Climber’s stash,’ I said.

  Zeke drove as fast as the conditions on the dirt road allowed. We skidded to a halt and sat for a moment in a cloud of dust. Joe grabbed a flashlight from the glovebox, jumped out of the car, and propped the barn door open with a piece of wood, allowing maximum light in.

  ‘This place really needs to be torn down,’ he called to us over his shoulder.

  ‘It’s on the list of things do,’ Zeke responded. He came around the back and offered me his hand. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Just hot. Had a bit of a grueling day.’

  He kissed my sweaty cheek and together we followed Joe into the dank building.

  Joe stood in the center of the barn, shining light into corners that had been dark for decades. ‘It’s over here,’ I said. They followed me to the pile of rotten lumber. I reached into the space and felt around for the sack. It was gone.

  Joe and Zeke tore through the whole pile of wood, moving the boards that didn’t disintegrate. They found nothing.

  ‘Are you sure of what you saw?’ Joe said.

  ‘Of course, I’m sure. I touched it. It was right there.’

  ‘Someone’s been here.’ Zeke pointed to the footprints in the dust.

  ‘Tell me everything that happen
ed,’ Joe said.

  ‘I was walking down the lane. The birds and bees were busy, and there was that general hum. Then it stopped. Everything grew silent. That’s what caught my attention. It seemed as though I wasn’t alone. I don’t know what made me step off the path, but I did, and I hid in the bushes. A person came through the grassy area, over the knoll. He wore a hat, an oversized shirt, and baggy trousers.’

  ‘A disguise?’ Zeke asked.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t recognize him, so I would say yes. He went into the barn, but when he came out he didn’t have the rucksack.’ I opened my eyes now. ‘So I went in to see what was in it.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, my love,’ Zeke said. He smiled at me.

  ‘Does she always act so impetuously?’ Joe asked.

  ‘She does,’ Zeke said. ‘That’s part of her charm.’ Joe shook his head.

  ‘I heard you went to Chesterton today. You didn’t stay long,’ Joe said.

  ‘How did you know that?’

  Neither Joe nor Zeke spoke.

  ‘You had me followed?’ I spoke to Joe. ‘Did you know that he had me followed?’ I all but shouted at Zeke, not caring that Joe was there to bear witness. ‘I promised I would keep her whereabouts a secret. I cannot believe you would betray me like that.’

  Zeke moved close, as if to take me in his arms. I stepped away.

  ‘Don’t blame him, Sarah. It was Detective Bateson. He realized that Helen might have some important information after all, and he suspected you would lead him to her.’

  ‘If Detective Bateson shows up at her house, she’ll never forgive me. She’ll never trust me again,’ I said.

  ‘If Detective Bateson brings Helen back to town, I give you my word that she will stay safe,’ Zeke said.

  ‘How can you guarantee that?’

  ‘I’m going to help him,’ Joe said. ‘This is partially her fault. If she had come forward right away, we wouldn’t be in this position. She brought it on herself. Did she tell you what she saw?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. She’s not going to tell anyone. What if she saw who put the rucksack in Simon’s room? What if the person is someone important? It will be her word against theirs. Who do you think will be believed? Helen will be dismissed as unreliable. After all, she’s just a woman, right? It’s not like she has any social standing in the community. She’ll still be in danger, and now, since the police have no use of her, they won’t protect her.’