Manor of Dying by Kathleen Bridge

Author:Kathleen Bridge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mysteries & Thrillers
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2019-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

When we’d walked inside the small, almost quaint, Southampton Police Station with its amiable officers and designer coffee machine, I’d felt immediately at ease. I’d been chosen as the first person to be interviewed. The questions and answers had been kept short and there was no mention of Arden Hunter’s murder. Neither Chief Pell nor Detective Shoner had been in the room, just two young officers who seemed at a loss as to what questions to ask in a murder investigation. And rightly so. In the past couple of years there had only been one murder in East Hampton and two in Sag Harbor. It had been decades since the town of Southampton, which included Shelter Island, had to deal with a murder.

It was sobering when I realized I’d been involved in each one of those murders, not to mention some oldies but goodies. While one of the officers took notes, I was asked to give a detailed montage of what we’d done to keep busy in the elevator until we’d fallen asleep. I knew what they were up to. They planned on comparing our stories. Looking for holes in the narrative. They wouldn’t find any.

As the interview was winding down I thought I was in the clear until one of the officers asked if there was any way to prove the three of us had been in the elevator for the entire time the power had been out. I said I didn’t think I could prove it, however, the others in the house—who didn’t have alibis, I wanted to say—could confirm they hadn’t seen us until we ran into the room and reported Blake Nightingale’s death.

There was an awkward lull, so I stood, ready to leave.

The younger of the two officers asked, “Is that it? Are you holding anything back?”

The pen! Oops. “I did pick up something on the morning we found the doctor’s body.” I reached in my pocket and took out the plastic bag holding the pen. I reached across the table and handed it off, happy to be rid of it.

He read the advertising on the side of the pen, “Nightingale and Lewis Dermatology. 104 Poplar Street, Southampton, New York.” He put the bag on the table. “Tell me where you got this and why you didn’t turn it in immediately.”

“It was on the basement steps, fifth step from the bottom. I originally saw it right after Elle, Felicity, and I were fleeing the basement after the elevator opened to, uh, Dr. Blake’s corpse. I left it there for forensics, but then later when Dr. Lewis insisted we go down together so he could examine the body, I decided to pick it up, in case whoever killed the doctor decided to do the same. Do you think those spots are dried blood?”

He ignored me while his partner continued taking notes. “We’ll have to see. Dr. Lewis, you say, wanted to look at the body? What did he discover?”

“Not much. He turned the body on its side but didn’t see anything besides, the, um, wound in the chest from the ice pick.

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