Bloodlines ik-9 Page 10

  The officer smiled. “Sure thing, Detective Norton — if you’ll do the paperwork on it.”

  Dan turned to O’Connor. “These days, they give ’em a wise-ass test before they let them on the force.”

  O’Connor followed Dan inside. Two other detectives stood in the marble entryway. They nodded at Norton, then frowned at O’Connor, but said nothing as he passed them. O’Connor glanced around but could see no signs of violence.

  “You’ve been here before?” Dan asked, looking back at him.

  “Yes,” O’Connor said. “I’ve only been inside once. A party, not long after Katy and Todd were married — a little more than a year ago.”

  “Katy. I like that better than Kathleen. She owned the house before she married Todd?”

  “Far as I know, her mother — Lillian Linworth — still owns it.” O’Connor looked around as he spoke. “Katy has lived here for about three years, so yes, she was living here before she married Todd.”

  “Would have thought they could have afforded a place of their own.”

  “Together they’re in line to inherit something like three fortunes,” O’Connor said, “but I don’t know that they have any money they could truly call their own — either one of them. Jack has always said that no good could come of that.”

  “Parents foot all the bills?”

  “The Linworths pay most of them.”

  Dan said, “Why the Linworths and not the Ducanes — the older Ducanes, I mean — Todd’s parents?”

  “Rumor has it the Ducanes haven’t given a penny to either of their children.”

  “Well, why should they, right? Last I looked, nobody gave you or me a nickel we didn’t earn.”

  Someone gave me a silver dollar once, O’Connor thought.

  He recalled comments he had heard others make here and there about the coldness of the Ducanes toward their sons. More than just a matter of withholding money. Even the other swells thought the Ducanes were lousy parents. “You talked to Warren Ducane — Todd’s brother?”

  “Hasn’t returned home yet this evening.” He gave O’Connor a speculative look. “But you might know where to find him?”

  “Sure, I’ve a few ideas. I’d like to know what happened to the child first, though.”

  “Wouldn’t we all. But okay, fair is fair. Come upstairs with me,” Norton said. “Most of the place appears to be untouched. A back door leading to the kitchen was damaged, that’s all. Point of entry, it seems. Fingerprint men are working on all of that area, just in case these assholes got careless. I wouldn’t lay any bets on that, though.”

  “More than one murderer, then?”

  “Maybe not. Come and have a look. Don’t touch the handrail.”

  O’Connor followed him up the long, curving marble staircase to the right. As they climbed the stairs, Dan said, “Let’s start in the nursery.”

  The coroner had taken the body of the nursemaid from the house, but O’Connor still found it disturbing to view the room. He could easily imagine the room as it must have been moments before the woman was killed: a white bassinet — stripped of its bedding — with a mobile of stars and a moon hanging near it, colorful Mother Goose figures on the walls. A changing table, diapers folded below. A wooden playpen, soft blue blankets folded over one rail. Everything neat and tidy.

  Just as it was now. Except for the blood. Sprayed everywhere, it seemed, in long streaks across the one wall and most of the floor. He could see long, heavy smears where the woman had obviously slipped and fallen in her own blood, bloody handprints on the floor near the bassinet, as if she had tried to crawl to it as she died. There was blood on the bassinet itself, but not much. A dark, wide pool of blood had spread and dried on the floorboards beneath it.

  “What was her name?” O’Connor asked quietly.

  “Rose Hannon. Thirty-four, widowed, lived in. Pleasant and easygoing, by all accounts. Loved the baby as if it were her own. No family anybody seems to know about.” Dan paused, then added, “I think whoever killed her enjoyed watching her die.”

  O’Connor looked at him.

  “Cut her throat, then watched her crawl.”

  “The baby was in the bassinet?”

  “Mrs. Hannon was crawling toward it… so yes, I think so.”

  “The blood—”

  “We don’t know yet. The lab took the bedding to test it.”

  “So little Max might not be alive.”

  “That’s a possibility. Especially when infants are taken.”

  They stood silently for a moment, then O’Connor said, “A living baby would be worth more in ransom than a dead one.”

  “I only hope they’re as smart as you are.”

  “This happened last night?”

  “We think it happened Saturday night, maybe early Sunday.”

  “Saturday night? While Katy was at her birthday party?”

  “Coroner said he’ll get back to me on a time of death, but as you know, those time-of-death guesses are never all that accurate. Except on Perry Mason. You watch that show?”

  O’Connor shook his head. He was still trying to absorb the idea that an infant could have been missing for so long without anyone knowing of it.

  “Well, I guess if you’ve got Corrigan to entertain you, who needs television, right?”

  “Last night, and no ransom note yet? No calls?” He felt his hopes sinking.

  “We don’t know about the calls — no one here to answer them. Got the phone company checking on that. But no notes, no.” He put a hand on O’Connor’s shoulder. “Don’t let that weigh too much with you yet — sometimes these guys want everyone to sweat, so that by the time you get their demands, you’re desperate.”

  “Katy and Todd haven’t been seen since the night of the party?”

  “That’s what we’re beginning to believe. The maid — Katy’s housemaid this is, not the victim — had the weekend off. She helped Katy get all set to go before the party, but she had to catch a bus, so when she left on Saturday, everyone was still here.”

  “Where was she all this time?”

  “She took off to visit her mother in San Diego. We have that verified. Took the bus back home today, got to the house at about five, and noticed the back door had been jimmied. Came into the house, nothing seemed to be wrong at first. Eventually, she came up the stairs and saw the mess in here.”

  “She called you?”

  “Naw. Went hysterical, the neighbors heard her, and they called us. She was out on the front lawn, with one of the neighbors trying to calm her down, when we got here. Took a while to get her to make any sense and even longer to get her to come back into the house with us.” He paused and said, “Let’s go down the hall.”

  “Wait — can you tell me, did they take the things they’d need to care for the baby? Blankets and such?”

  “I asked the same thing. No — the maid didn’t think so, except for one blanket. Probably the one they carried him out in.”

  O’Connor followed him down the long hallway, moving in the opposite direction of the baby’s room, almost to the other end of the house. He couldn’t help but think about the distance of the parents’ room from the baby’s room.

  He had a different sort of shock when Norton showed him into the large master bedroom. In contrast to the nursery, the bedroom was pristine. Nothing out of place.

  “Did the maid straighten up in here before she walked down the hall?”

  “She swears she didn’t.”

  “Did they never come home, then?” O’Connor asked.

  Dan smiled. “Anyone ever tell you how Irish you sound when you’re upset?”

  “Dan…”

  “No, it doesn’t look as if they did. I brought the maid in here, and she says the room looks just the way she left it last night.”

  He walked over to a door at the other side of the room and beckoned O’Connor to follow. O’Connor did, and found himself in the biggest closet he had ever seen in his life. Two sides held women’s clothi
ng, a third, men’s. The fourth was set with drawers — full of gloves, socks, shoes, and accessories, Dan said. There was another door on the other side of the closet.

  “I live in a place smaller than this,” O’Connor said.

  “I’m glad to know the force still pays better than the paper. Anyway, I checked the laundry hamper there — nothing in it. I asked the maid, and she says no dress or shirt or any other item of clothing that the Ducanes wore on the night of the party is hanging up in here.”

  They continued across the closet to a connecting door. Dan opened it. “Now, here’s why you shouldn’t live in a big house if you want to be happily married. The wife can move out on you without moving out.”

  O’Connor could smell Katy’s favorite perfume even before he saw that this room was more feminine than the other. It was clearly more lived-in than the other. A hi-fi stood in one corner, a television in another. The bed was an old-fashioned canopy bed, with ruffles and frills abounding. To one side of it was a nightstand with books piled high on it, and a second bassinet. O’Connor found himself relieved that little Max Ducane was sometimes allowed in here with his mother, might have even slept near her at night. On the other side of the big bed, he saw a dog’s bed — almost as frilly as Katy’s bed.

  “Where’s the dog?” O’Connor asked.

  “Well, that’s a good question. Presumably, with Mrs. Ducane.”

  “On a boat? I can’t believe that.” He thought for a moment. “Where’s Katy’s car?”

  “Katy’s little roadster is parked at her in-laws’ place.”

  “And the Ducanes’ car?”

  “At the marina. Apparently Todd and Katy followed his parents to their place, then took off for the marina in the Ducanes’ car. Unlike the Linworths, the Ducanes drive themselves.”

  “Which is a shame, or someone might have noticed their absence before Katy’s maid came back from San Diego.”

  “True. The Ducanes have fewer servants than the Linworths, though. The cook-housekeeper isn’t live-in, and she only comes in Monday through Friday.”

  “They keep to themselves and they hate to pay anyone a decent wage. Ask the people who work at Ducane Industries. If it hadn’t been for the war…”

  “Cheap, huh?”

  “You wouldn’t want to wait on their table. Cheap when it comes to labor, yes. But that doesn’t mean they don’t live well themselves. They’ll buy anything that pleases them.”

  “Like a yacht.”

  “Exactly.”

  O’Connor looked around the room again. “Jack tells me Todd has a mistress.”

  Norton’s brows went up. “Oh yeah? Well, I didn’t think they had this arrangement of bedroom furniture because he snores. Got a name for the mistress?”

  “No. But Jack might be able to tell you more.”

  “Knowing Handsome Jack, he was there before Todd.”

  “Not so handsome now. He may need a new nickname.”

  Norton shook his head. “He’ll charm them, no matter what condition that mug of his is in when the bandages come off.”

  “Maybe so. So nothing else taken from the house? Just little Max?”

  “Besides a woman’s life? No, nothing, as far as we can tell. Oh — I should probably mention, on the night of the party, Katy’s mother gave her some diamonds, a necklace, I guess, a family heirloom of the Vanderveers. No sign of that, either.”

  “Where would she have put them?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is there a safe in the house? I just can’t picture her mother giving her diamonds without being sure that she had a secure place to keep them.”

  “You know why I like you, Conn? You think of questions most of my fellow detectives don’t think of. Fortunately, I thought of that one. There’s one in the closet.”

  “Behind some of the clothes?”

  “Right. We got the combination to it from Lillian Linworth herself. She says only she and her daughter knew the combination. Said that Katy had it changed just this week. He smiled. “Mrs. Linworth is something else. Warned me she’d be changing it again.”

  “So why are you looking in a safe at a private residence? When Katy comes back…”

  “Her mother can tell her she was curious to see if the diamonds were put away before Katy got aboard the yacht. When Mrs. Linworth opened the safe and the diamonds weren’t in there, she said she was sure her daughter did not return to the house after leaving the party — that Katy would have put the diamonds away as soon as she came home.”

  “And did she discover anything else in it?”

  “Papers. A deed to the only property Katy owned — a place up in Arrowhead that Lillian gave her when she turned eighteen.”

  “Ah, yes. That’s where Katy was born. So even if she didn’t own this place, she had that one.”

  “There was also a will. Made out on Friday afternoon.”

  “A will? On Friday, you say? She spent the day before her twenty-first birthday getting a will made?”

  “Interesting, isn’t it? Not many people who are that young think to make wills. And guess who she leaves all her worldly possessions to?”

  “Her son — Maxwell.”

  “Surprisingly, no. To one Jack Corrigan.”

  “Jack?”

  “So he never said anything to you about this?”

  “No. Not a word. I don’t think he knows about it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “So why would she leave everything to him? By the way, that’s including, should the need arise, guardianship of her son.”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea. Only that he’s been something like an uncle to her over the years. She calls him ‘Uncle Jack,’ in fact. She’s fond of him.”

  “Nothing romantic?”

  “Good God, no.”

  “Hey, I gotta ask, right?”

  “What did Lillian say?”

  “Exactly what you did — he’s Uncle Jack. Seemed shaken up by it, though. I’m actually sorry we allowed Mrs. Linworth to open the safe, because now her daughter’s likely to be a little unhappy with me for letting her snoop through her papers.”

  “Nothing less than you deserve,” O’Connor said absently.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Just worrying about the child, and Katy and the others. Wondering what I’ll tell Jack. And — Dan, why wouldn’t they have come back to shore as soon as the weather looked a little rough?”

  “I can think of all sorts of reasons. Boats can’t always make it to shore right away for one reason or another. Fog early this morning, remember? They set out at midnight, fog started rolling in around two or so. Then this storm got here faster than the weatherman said it would. Maybe they were closer to the harbor at Avalon than the one here. Mrs. Linworth assures me the Ducanes are excellent sailors, but who can really say how well they know how to handle a new boat or navigate?”

  O’Connor said nothing.

  “Yeah,” Dan said, “worries me, too. Hell of a night. Why don’t you take me to see Warren Ducane?”

  11

  DAN NORTON GAVE SOME HURRIED INSTRUCTIONS TO MATT ARDEN AS they passed the barricade. O’Connor waited at the Nash. Much to Norton’s disgust, O’Connor had insisted they take his car.

  He watched his mirror, until Norton said, “I’m not having you tailed, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Good. I’ll get us there a little faster, then.”

  “Why are you being so mysterious?” Norton groused.

  “You’ll be happy about that later.”

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to some dame’s place, because I’ve been waking women up all night on account of this guy. The six ex-girlfriends all lost sleep when I came around looking for him.”

  “Are you trying to convince me that you minded that? Warren’s only twenty, and I don’t think he’s dated an ugly girl yet.”

  Norton laughed. “They were lookers.”

  “To be fair, he’s better-looking th
an five or six of you or me.”

  “You wouldn’t look half bad if you didn’t have a habit of finishing every barroom brawl Corrigan starts.”

  “I wish I could have ended the fight he was just in.”

  Norton sighed. “Me too.”

  O’Connor drove up into the hills. When he turned onto a winding private road, Norton said, “Jesus Christ. He’s up at Auburn’s Stand?”

  “Last I saw him. And he seemed to be there for the weekend.”

  “Last you saw him?”

  “I was invited to join the fun this weekend. One of our mutual friends is moving to Paris. Auburn gave him a send-off.”

  “Oh, ho! Moving up in the world, are you?”

  O’Connor shrugged. “Doubt that accounts for it.”

  “Auburn Sheffield,” Dan mused. “Told his old man to go to hell, and built a bigger fortune than any of the rest of the Sheffield clan.”

  “Yes. That’s how the place got its name. Auburn took a stand.”

  “Quite a bit older than you or Warren, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but Auburn’s friends are a real mix. Some older, some younger, some straight-laced, some rebels. I admire him for that.”

  “You consider him a friend?”

  O’Connor nodded. “A good man, Auburn.”

  “Any reason we shouldn’t have come here in my car?”

  “As I say, he’s a friend who invited me to share in his hospitality. I won’t return that kindness by bringing five squad cars—”

  “Me? In a squad car? Are you—”

  “—led by a flashy T-Bird up the road to his home.”

  Dan eyed him narrowly, then suddenly grinned. “But you didn’t call him from Katy Ducane’s house, either, or give him a warning.”

  “You’re my friend, too. I wasn’t going to give Warren a chance to slip away. Besides, it might prove to be a little embarrassing for all concerned.”

  “What the hell is going on up here, anyway?”

  “Just a house party, but one or two of the married men have been friendly with women who don’t look much like their wives.”