Hour Game Part 18

"So if he was killed by someone else, we have to start looking at motivations."

Mason didn't say anything for a few seconds. "You mean one of thefamily ?" ?"

"Not necessarily, but that can't be discounted." He eyed the man keenly. "You've been with them a long time. It's easy to see you're far more than the hired help."

"I've been with them through the good and the bad," Mason said.

"Tell us about the bad," said King.

"Look, if you're trying to get me to say something that'll hurt Mrs. Battle-"

King interrupted. "All I'm trying to do is get to the truth, Mason."

"She would never have done anything like that!" he said sharply. "She loved Mr. Battle."

"And yet her wedding ring wasn't on her finger."

Mason started for a moment and then said, "I believe it needed repairs. She didn't want to risk further damage. I wouldn't read any more into it."

Nice comeback,thought King. "Anyone else you can think of?"

Mason thought about this but then shook his head. "I really couldn't say. I mean, I don't know anything like that," he added quickly.

Is it the former or the latter?wondered King. He produced one of his cards. "If something does occur to you, give us a call. We're far nicer than the FBI," he added.

As Mason walked them out, King stopped in front of a bookcase containing numerous photos. One in particular had caught his eye. He showed it to Mason.

"That's Bobby Jr., Eddie's twin. He was about fourteen when that picture was taken. He was born first by a few minutes; that's why he was the junior."

"You can't have been with the Battles that long," said Mich.e.l.le.

"No. They'd bought this property and were building the house and they had the boys and they needed some help. I answered an ad and I've been here ever since. Other staff have come and gone, but I've always been here." His voice trailed off. He snapped back and looked at King and Mich.e.l.le staring at him. "They've treated me really well. I could retire if I wanted."

"Any plans to do that?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

"I can't exactly abandon Mrs. Battle now, can I?"

"I'm sure your presence here means a lot to her," said King.

Mich.e.l.le looked at the young man's unnatural features in the photo. "What was wrong with Bobby Jr.?"

"He was severely mentally r.e.t.a.r.ded. He was in bad shape when I started working for them. Then he got cancer and died soon after his eighteenth birthday."

"He was Eddie's twin but Eddie's fine," said King. "Isn't that unusual?"

"Well, that's what happened. They were fraternal twins."

"How did Eddie get along with his brother?"

"Did everything for him. Couldn't have been nicer. I think Eddie knew it was only by the grace of G.o.d that it wasn't him."

"And Bobby Sr.?"

"Mr. Battle was really busy back then, traveling all over. He wasn't even here when Bobby Jr. died." He added quickly, "I have no doubt he loved the boy, though."

"It must have been pretty traumatic for Remmy when Eddie was kidnapped."

"If it hadn't been for Agent Bailey, she might have lost both her sons."

"Lucky he's on the case again," said King.

They left the house, but when Mich.e.l.le started to walk over to the car, King took her arm. "It's a beautiful day. I feel like a stroll," he said, giving her a look.

"Where?"

"You'll see." He took out of his pocket the tissue he had used to clean up the coffee spill and sniffed it. He smiled at the result.

"What is it?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

"Not a huge surprise, but Remmy enjoys a little bourbon with her coffee."

CHAPTER 38.

KING'S CHOICE OF VENUE TOOKthem to the rear grounds. They wandered over to the spot where they could see Remmy's bedroom window. King gazed at the house where the servants lived and then back at their employer's window.

"If someone were really looking," he said vaguely.

Mich.e.l.le said, "Mason definitely has a thing for Remmy. Maybe he hopes to become the new man of the estate."

King glanced over and saw the woman walking toward the stable.

"Let's go talk horses." As he was turning away, an image at one of the second-story windows caught his attention.

It was Savannah, staring at them. Yet she was gone so quickly that for an instant King wasn't even sure she'd really been there. Yet she had been. And the look on her face was clear: she was terrified.

They both greeted Sally Wainwright over by the stable. Her cheerful disposition wasn't evident today.

"G.o.d, I'm thinking about quitting," she said.

"Because Battle was murdered?" asked King.

"And four other people," said Sally as she looked over her shoulder as though for an attacker. "This was a nice, quiet town when I got here. Right now I'd probably be safer in the Middle East."

"I wouldn't do anything rash," said Mich.e.l.le. "You'll probably live to regret it."

"I just want to live," Sally shot back.

King nodded. "Well, then maybe you can help us find the killer before he strikes again."

Sally looked shocked. "Me! I don't know anything."

"You may know something important, only you don't know that it is," said King. "For instance, can you think of anyone who might have intended Bobby Battle harm?"

Sally shook her head-too quickly, in King's mind.

"Come on, Sally, whatever you say goes no further."

"Sean, I really don't know anything."

He decided to try a different tack. "Why don't I throw out some possibilities, and then you can jump in if they trigger anything?"

She looked doubtful. "Well?"

"Battle was a wealthy man. People benefit from his death, right?"

"But I suppose Mrs. Battle would get most of it. And Savannah has her trust fund. I don't think she needs any more money."

"Eddie?"

Sally glanced in the direction of the carriage house. "They don't appear to be sc.r.a.ping dimes together. And I know for a fact that Dorothea Battle makes big bucks."

"How do you know that?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

"My best friend does her nails. Dorothea likes to brag."

"Well, some people never have enough money," suggested King.

"I just don't see that being the reason," said Sally stubbornly.

"If not money, then what else?" He stared pointedly at the young woman. "I guess you probably haven't been here long enough to know about Bobby's adulterous past."

"Oh, I know more than you think," blurted out Sally. "I mean-" She stopped and looked at her dirty boots.

"It's okay, Sally," a.s.sured King, hiding his pleasure that she'd bit on his bait so quickly. "Do you know a lot about that because maybe Bobby made advances toward you?"

Sally shook her head. "No, it was nothing like that."

"So what, then?" pressed King. "It really could be important, Sally."

She remained silent a bit longer and then said, "Come on with me."

They walked past the stables and servants' house and down a paved roadway, eventually arriving at a large brick two-story building with eight old-fas.h.i.+oned wooden garage doors. There was an antique gas pump with a gla.s.s bubble top out front.

"This is Mr. Battle's private garage. He has, orhad, a collection of antique cars. I guess Mrs. Battle owns them now." She pulled out a key and they entered. a collection of antique cars. I guess Mrs. Battle owns them now." She pulled out a key and they entered.

The floor was covered in a black and white checkerboard pattern. The shelves held dusty trophies from antique car shows. In front of seven of the doors, sitting perfectly aligned with one another, were vintage cars ranging from a Stutz Bearcat to an imposing vehicle with cloth top and a round grille that the placard on the stand in front proclaimed to be a 1906 six-cylinder Franklin.

"I'd heard that Bobby collected old cars, but I didn't know his collection was this extensive," said King as he looked around.

"He has a bunch more on the second floor. There's a special elevator that takes them up and down," said Sally. "He used to have a full-time mechanic to take care of them." She walked down to the last s.p.a.ce and stood. King and Mich.e.l.le joined her. There was no car here. They looked at her questioningly.

She hesitated for an instant. "Look, you didn't hear this from me," she said. They both nodded in agreement. "Well, there used to be a car that sat right here. It was huge, you know, one of those big Rolls-Royces you see in the old movies?"

"What happened to it?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

Sally hesitated again, as though debating whether to tell them.

Sensing this, King said, "Sally, you've gone this far."

"Okay, it was over three years ago. It was late at night, and I'd slipped down here just to look around. I wasn't supposed to have a key, but the mechanic who used to work here took a liking to me and gave me one. I was inside looking around when I heard a car coming. It was then that I noticed that one of the cars wasn't there. The door started opening and I saw the headlights. I was scared to death and sure I was going to be fired if they found me here. I ran and hid over there." She pointed to a tower of fifty-gallon oil drums that sat in one corner. "The Rolls pulled into the garage and the motor was cut off. Mr. Battle got out and he looked bad. I mean really bad."

"How could you tell? Wasn't it dark?" asked King.

"There's an automatic trigger on the doors. At night when the doors go up, the lights come on in here."

"When you say he looked bad, how do you mean?" asked Mich.e.l.le. "Sick? Drunk?"

"No, like he was really upset, worried."

"Did you ever find out what about?" asked King.

"No. Anyway, like I said, he looked bad, but then all of sudden he started smiling and then he started laughing. Laughing! Well, he did, until she showed up."

"She who, Remmy?" said King.

Sally nodded and said in a hushed tone, "If she'd had a gun, I think Mr. Battle would've been dead a long time ago."

"What happened then?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

"They started arguing. Well, at first, she just was screaming at him. Not much of it made sense. But from what I could hear, there was another woman involved."

"Did it seem like Remmy knew who?" asked King sharply.

"If she did, she never mentioned her name, at least not that I heard," said Sally.

"What did Bobby do?"

"He started yelling, told her it was none of her d.a.m.n business who he slept with."

"And to think I was halfway admiring the man," said Mich.e.l.le in disgust.

"Well, he said something else I'll never forget," said Sally. She paused, drew a quick breath and looked at them anxiously.