Zechariah 8:16
Saturday 22nd December: The tension in Hanlin's living room was of that acute depressive kind that you get amongst the losing camp at a political recount. The mood was dour, subdued and electric.
Most of them were there.
Donna White stood alongside Michael Hanlin in front of the fireplace. Ranged before them clutching an assortment of drinks, slumped in chairs and armchairs, were, in an arc from the window to the door: Rick Bryer, Father Seb, Angie Merill, Vicky Walters, Sean Hartnett and the Bishop. The wives, Jane and Marilyn, were in the kitchen with Anna, the Hanlin's new maid.
Most of the people in the room were still reeling from the grim events of the past twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours in which Baxter Merill had been arrested on suspicion of murder with regard to the death of Maria Gonzalez; and in which a jury of her peers had found Trish Hartnett guilty on a count of murder one in the Bob Young case.
Vicky Walters was tearful. Sean Hartnett morose. They sat alongside one another. Vicky started to talk about Baxter.
"He didn't do it. He couldn't have."
Hanlin stepped across to her, reaching his hand out, but she leaned back and flinched, looking him in the eyes. "He didn't do it," she said again.
Hanlin seemed to tower above the young woman. He shook his head to indicate his agreement. "Bothered me that an anonymous letter led to the recovery of the knife."
"Bothers me too." This from Donna White. "The way we were tipped off by that anonymous note. No saliva on the envelope. So no DNA sample. So carefully done."
"The same letters. By which I mean the same author, for the correspondence in both murder cases?" Hanlin observed. It was more of a comment than a question.
Donna nodded her agreement.
Sean Hartnett looked up. "Could have been anyone who hid that knife in the woodpile at the Merrill home." He looked at Vicky. "Even you," he said.
Vicky jerked her head back as if she'd been slapped. "What did you say?"
"I said it could have been you." Sean replied,
Hanlin thought he'd best try and calm the atmosphere. "Let's not fight amongst ourselves," he started to say.
Sean's response was sharp, edged with anger. "No let's. Time we all faced a few home truths. Vicky could have murdered Maria. That's at least as likely as Baxter doing it."
Hanlin was genuinely perplexed. "Why?"
"Lots of reasons. Could be Maria was giving Baxter a hard time what with Baxter having hit on her. Maybe she was threatening to go to the police."
"Then Baxter would be implicated."
"Maybe." Sean's face was grim. "Or just maybe Vicky decided to defend her man."
Curiously it was left to Angie Merill to defend her ex-husband's lover. Her golden hair bobbed as she startled the room by jumping to her feet. Her mouth pursed in defiance, her slate blue eyes scanning the others present as if daring anyone to gainsay her as she marched over to Vicky Walters' side and placed a firm hand, almost possessively, on the shoulders of the now weeping woman. Then she spoke, her words calm but confident and measured.
"You can all stop that now," she said, looking first at the others in the room and then down at Vicky. "There's no way Vicky could have been involved in Maria's death."
Hanlin smiled gratefully. "Well for one thing no woman would kill anyone like that."
Sean wasn't going to let that go. "Perhaps not but still, women have committed brutal crimes in the past."
But Angie hadn't finished. "She couldn't have done it. She was with me."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because though Baxter and I have split up, I still care for him, regardless of how he treated me." She again stared around the room. "And I've taken enough interest in this case to have asked the time the coroner has for Maria's death. It is my ex-husband we are talking about here."
"So."
"So I may not be able to provide an alibi for Baxter - though as sure as hell I know he didn't do it. But I can provide Vicky with an alibi. She was taking school when Maria died. And straight after school that day she met me at Pazzo's bar."
"She met you?"
"Sure. You think I wasn't going to take an interest in the other woman in my Baxter's life?" Angie smiled her best smile, "We had a good long heart to heart. Vicky didn't do it. She couldn't have."
Hanlin smiled in turn. "Well that seems to settle that." Then he scanned the room. "But that still leaves us nowhere. Let's try and nail this business. We are gathered here to see if there is anything we can do to help our friends, Trish and Baxter. The first thing we should do is establish that none of us could have committed these crimes. We are, or at least were, all potential suspects. Isn't that right Donna?"
Donna nodded. "I guess that's definitely right. We have considered most of you suspects," Donna paused. "Even you Mr Hanlin."
"Moi?" Hanlin smiled. "Yes I suppose I was right in the frame for the Bob Young killing, as the owner of a Hummer. At least until the D.A. came to my rescue."
Bryer spoke up. "You have your own wife to vouch for you anyway. Jane will confirm you were home in bed."
Again Hanlin smiled. "Very loyal of you dear friend. And your glass is empty. Let me deal with that." He reached for another beer. "But a wife's testimony is scarcely impartial." He took Bryer's glass and topped it up for him. "So I am in the frame again."
"You have no motive."
"Perhaps. Let's leave that on the table for a moment. Who else could be a suspect in any of these killings?"
There was silence. Hanlin looked around the room. "You for instance Sean."
Sean turned his head to look up at Hanlin. "I tried to say I killed Bob Young. The Assistant D.A. wouldn't have it."
"No he wouldn't would he? The circumstantial evidence against Trish was too strong." Hanlin paused. "But what about you being in the frame for the Maria killing?"
"Maria?" Sean looked genuinely stunned. "Why would I have killed Maria?"
"Let's leave the why aside for a moment. Could you have done it?"
Now Bishop O'Malley intervened. "He didn't."
"How come?" This from Bryer.
"Because he was with me."
Hanlin almost winced. "The alibis are flowing thick and fast," he thought. Aloud he said, "Very loyal. And you'd swear to that?"
The bishop seemed to hesitate but nodded. "Yes I'd swear to that."
Hanlin smiled again. "Excuse me for this bishop but given the nature of this case, we are all aware that your friendship with Sean was more than merely platonic. You were very close. Which puts your evidence for Sean in the same class as Jane's for me . . . slightly partial."
Donna broke in. "When was he with you?"
"When Maria was killed."
"When was that?"
The bishop looked confused. "I can't exactly remember but I remember being told and I remember working out that he was with me."
Donna gave the bishop a withering glance. "Noble but misguided bishop. When you can't even rely on the church to tell the truth you are truly up a creek without a paddle."
Bishop O'Malley blushed red but said nothing.
Bryer eyed O'Malley then Hanlin. "You expect to solve this case today?"
Hanlin smiled pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows. "I don't see why not," he said. "I work on the premise that when violence impacts the lives of a small group of friends: a) the violent incidents are related and, b) the probability is that a member of that group is the culprit." He paused.
"The problem is that we fail to acknowledge where this all started."
"Which is?" asked Donna.
"With Mary Young's suicide." Hanlin took a lingering sip of his Balvenie whisky, savoring the complex, spicy flavor of his favorite single malt. "There is something that can remain unsaid no longer." Hanlin hesitated. Every eye in the room was watching him now. "Bob Young was not the father of Mary's eldest child."
There was an embarrassed silence.
"But does that alter anything?" asked Vicky Walters.
"I believe so. Take things in chronological order. After Mary's suicide, Bob Young attacked Father Seb, thinking perhaps that Seb could have prevented Mary's death. Thinking he knew what strain Mary was under but had done nothing rather than betray the confidence of the confessional. Perhaps even, in some twisted way, thinking Seb was having an affair with Mary. Right Seb?"
Seb nodded. "He thought I'd met Mary in secret. Whereas the meeting I'd had was with Angie."
Hanlin nodded like a schoolmaster with a clever pupil. "Then you were attacked again. More violently on this occasion. The natural conclusion is that your attacker this second time was Bob Young. But what if you were attacked by the person who was subsequently to kill Bob."
"Why?" asked Dona.
Hanlin turned to look at the young police officer. "The same reason as that which motivated the attack by Bob. The killer thought that Seb was the only person that knew the true identity of the father of Mary's child." Hanlin switched his attention to Seb. "Did you know the name of the father? You could save us all a lot of time."
Seb shook his head. "No."
"No. Exactly. But the killer didn't know that. And about that time we had the first of the poison pen letters implicating Trish Hartnett." Hanlin ran his fingers back through his lank black hair. "Those letters could have been sent by the real killer, to distract us."
Donna nodded. "A fact that didn't escape us but they could equally well have been telling the truth. Trish Hartnett could have been the killer. Especially if Sean had been Mary's secret lover."
Sean flinched. "Ridiculous," he muttered. Then louder. "Ridiculous. She was old enough to be my mother."
"That hasn't stopped people before. Books have been written in praise of cougars." Hanlin smiled. "And as many a pubescent boy has discovered, 'Old chickens make the best soup'".
"That's enough Mr Hanlin," Donna White winced. "But what I don't get is what triggered all this in the first place. Why did Mary think her lover's identity was about to be exposed?"
"I'm not sure but I have a theory about that."
"Which is?"
"Well her eldest girl got engaged to be married."
"So?"
"So Massachusetts was one of the last states in the union to abolish blood tests before marriage."
"But they've been abolished. And they were only for STDs and Rubella anyway, not blood type."
"Yup. But Mary Young may not have realised that."
"Doesn't seem very likely."
"Perhaps," Hanlin nodded. "Let's come back to that," he said. "After Anna's refilled your glasses."
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