Sharyn McCrumb - Sick Of Shadows

“Police matters are always confidential-” Clay began.

“Type it up yourself, Clay. He’s right about Doris. Okay, Mr. Chandler. You have my word on it. This interview will be confidential insofar as it can be. You know, confessions of murder-even accidental killings-can’t be our little secrets. But why don’t you just tell me what happened that day, and let’s take it from there, shall we?”

“If I thought I could refuse to answer you without being charged with murder, I would certainly do so,” Geoffrey sighed. “And my only objection to that would be that it would deter you from finding the real killer. I would not deny him his rightful place in the penitentiary, I assure you. Very well-my discussion with Eileen. Who told you about it, by the way?”

“We can’t discuss that,” said Rountree.

“I believe I can guess,” offered Geoffrey.

“Now, what time Friday morning did you go to the lake?”

“About eight o’clock.” He acknowledged their look of surprise with a slight nod. “Yes, such an admission would shock my family, because I’ve trained them not to expect to see me before ten in the morning, but nevertheless it is true. In fact, I even changed back into my dressing gown for breakfast later so as not to impair my reputation for sloth.”

“And you found your sister painting by the lake?”

“Yes. And I know what you are thinking. I must have seen the painting. I wish I had. It was my intention to do so.”

“That’s why you went down there? Just to see the painting?”

Geoffrey sighed. “I know my sister very well, Sheriff. Better than any of the rest of the family. And there was some reason for her not showing us that picture. Some reason other than the one she gave.”

“Uh-huh,” mused Rountree, who had come to the same conclusion. “And what was that reason?”

“I don’t know. But I was worried. She had been acting very distraught the day before, and I knew she was afraid of something. She broke a mirror in the upstairs hall, and made a scene in front of Dr. Shepherd, which is not like my sister at all.”

“We’ve discussed your sister’s medical history with Dr. Shepherd.”

“Yes. Well, in the early days of her illness, she used to say that she saw things-things that weren’t there. And she couldn’t stand mirrors. So… when she broke the mirror Thursday night, I began to be afraid that she was getting sick again.”

“Did you discuss that possibility with Dr. Shepherd?”

“Of course not! I didn’t want him to know!”

“Why not?”

Geoffrey gestured impatiently. “Because they’d lock her up again! And Eileen doesn’t-didn’t-need to be put away. She needed to feel safe and happy away from this house! At first I thought that she might be able to do that with Satisky, but it didn’t seem to be working. She had him, and the symptoms were still coming back! I was so afraid for her. She was going to blow it, and get sent away again.”

“And you told her this?”

“Yes-eventually. Not the way I’d planned. When she saw me at the lake that morning, she put the painting away immediately. And I asked her if I could see it. She said no; something about being sensitive to criticism. I told her to come off it. I knew her symptoms as well as she did. I told her that she’d been acting strangely, and that if she turned up the day before the wedding with a painting of purple-eyed demons, then she could find the wedding cancelled right out from under her.”

“I don’t imagine she took kindly to that.”

“She started to cry. Said that Michael loved her and nothing could stop them.”

“And what did you say?”

“I’m afraid I lost my temper. I told her that if she didn’t control herself better, she would ruin things all by herself.”

“You wanted her to be able to go through with the wedding?”

Geoffrey rested his chin against his knees. “Well, Sheriff,” he said, “it’s like the fairy tale Snow White-to put things on your level: I wanted her to get away from the Wicked Queen and her magic mirror, even if she had to live in the woods with seven little men to be able to do it.”

Rountree paused for a moment, phrasing his question carefully. “Geoffrey… did you, in this quarrel with your sister, get madder than you intended? Did you hit her or knock her down? Not on purpose! Did she fall on a rock, for instance, and get knocked out? And maybe you panicked and tossed her into the boat?”

“No, Rountree. The brave man uses a sword. I did it with a bitter look.”

Rountree and Taylor looked at each other and shrugged. Another quote. Finally the sheriff said, “I take it that means you didn’t cause her death, accidental or otherwise.”

“Right, Sheriff. I did not cause her death.”

“What would you say her state of mind was when you left her?”

Geoffrey looked away. “She told me to go away. That there was nothing the matter with her. And she accused me of trying to break up her romance with Satisky. She said…” His voice trembled.

“Yes?” prompted Rountree softly.

“She said: ‘Which one of us are you jealous of?’ ”

“What did you think of that?” asked Clay.

Rountree shrugged. “I stopped trying to spot killers a long time ago.”

“I didn’t mean that, Wes. It seems kind of strange, though, that he’s taking it so hard. And you notice he didn’t volunteer that information about the fight they had. How do we know it went like that?”

The sheriff snorted. “I guess you want that man from Atlanta to come up here with his lie detector, so you can plug everybody in and see what’s what.”

Taylor knew he was being laughed at, but he couldn’t see why. It did seem like a pretty good idea, at that. “I guess we’d have to charge him first.”

“Just keep taking notes, Clay, and stop trying to think up TV tricks to improve law enforcement.” Taylor reddened and gave a quick nod. “Besides, you wouldn’t learn a lot. Lie detectors can be beat.”

“Oh, sure, I’ve heard that,” mumbled Clay.

“I did it myself,” said Wesley complacently.

The Chandler house loomed in front of them, but Wesley didn’t seem to want to go back in. He circled around the garage and headed for the front driveway. Taylor followed along, wondering if they were through for the day. If they finished before three, he could usually get Doris to type up his notes.

“How’d you beat the lie detector, Wes?”

The sheriff grinned. “Well, it was while I was in the M.P.s. We had one of those things laying around, so we got an expert in to give us a course in it. He asked for volunteers to demonstrate how the thing worked, and I went up there and let him strap me in and ask me questions. The thing works on your breathing and movements-on the notion that it makes you nervous to lie, I reckon. So I lied up a storm, and it never registered, because my mind wasn’t on the questions.”

“Yeah?”

“S’right. He’d ask me if my name was Henry, and I’d say ‘yes,’ just as calm as cow dung, ’cause all the while I’m naming off the parts of my rifle in my head, trying to get them in the order you break it down. So I’m answering the questions without really thinking about them, because in my head I’m saying: ‘Pin, charging handle, bolt, stock…’ And, you know, I never trusted one of those things since, ’cause I figure that if an honest fellow like me can get past that machine, think what a real liar could do! How are we doing with those interviews, anyway?”

Taylor ticked off the names in his notebook. “That seems to be everybody. You want to interview anybody else today?”

“Yeah,” said Rountree thoughtfully. “I think I want to talk to the Emperor.”