“I thought you two had reconciled.”
“We’re trying. But until she’s convinced of Freddie’s innocence, it will never be the same between us. Now that Daddy’s gone, I need the rest of my family. A lie detector test isn’t enough to sway her. Find out who did it.”
I sighed. “I’ve been away from home a long time, Nancy.”
Her strong chin was trembling. “You and I both know that so very much of the evidence you uncovered didn’t find its way into court. Now the authorities are without a suspect.”
I thought about how handcuffed I’d been in my inquiries; I remembered Lindop telling me, reluctantly, that it would be “improper to look elsewhere for a culprit, until or unless the person so charged is acquitted.” Well, Freddie was free, wasn’t he?
“What do you want me to do?”
She smiled firmly; gripped my forearm. “Stay on awhile. Gather more evidence if you like, but at the very least, present the rest of your evidence to the Nassau police. Tell them how Daddy actually died by gunshot, how the bug sprayer was the blowtorch, how Harold Christie is connected to Meyer Lansky, how Lansky’s bodyguards fit the description of the men at Lyford Cay-”
“Whoa! Nancy. You don’t have to tell me. I know all that, and more.”
“Will you do it?”
I sighed again. “I’ll give it a week. Same rate?”
She looked down. “Well…I’m afraid that might not be possible. I know it seems absurd for Sir Harry Oakes’ daughter to cry poor mouth, but at this point, my funds are limited….”
“Fifty a day and expenses.”
Her expression melted into a smile; she kissed me on the lips. It was just a friendly little kiss, but I tell you, she would have been easy to fall for.
Her husband walked over and joined us. We stood and he was smiling, but it looked a little strained.
“Fred! I’m so thrilled. Mr. Heller has agreed to stay on.”
His lips smiled, but his forehead frowned. “Stay on?”
“Yes-he’s going to keep investigating Daddy’s death.”
De Marigny looked mystified. “Why?”
“Well…because somebody has to!”
“My sweet, you’re probably right that the Nassau police won’t investigate,” he said, one eyebrow arched casually. “My guess is that they view the case closed.”
“That’s exactly why we have to pursue it!”
He seemed almost drowsy. “Your father’s murder has twenty or thirty angles-could have been blackmail, for instance, or bad business dealings. It’s the sort of case that could take forever and still never be solved.”
“But we have to
“I owe a debt of thanks to Mr. Heller,” he said, almost as if I wasn’t there, “but he
“He’s lowered his rate,” she said, almost pleadingly.
“Well, my dear…it’s up to you, I suppose.”
“Freddie,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you care who killed the old boy? Don’t you have a theory yourself, after all we’ve been through?”
“I have no idea who did it,” he said blandly. “It might have been Harold Christie or some crazed native or God knows who. All I know is, it wasn’t me. Anyway, you must remember, Heller-I wasn’t tried for the murder of Sir Harry Oakes.”
“Oh?”
He slipped his arm around her shoulder; it was a gesture at once affectionate and condescending. She looked at him with wide, hurt eyes.
“I was tried for marrying Sir Harry’s daughter,” he said.
He kissed her forehead. “If you’ll excuse me, darling…I should mingle with our friends….”
We watched him as he made a trio of the Marquis and his teenage cutie and the three were laughing and drinking within seconds.
“Please stay on,” Nancy said with quiet, desperate urgency. “I can get the money.”
I took one of her hands in two of mine and pressed. “I already said I would.”
She hugged me.
Higgs was coming back into the room; I hadn’t seen him go. But his face was white and grave.
“Excuse me!” he said, working his voice up above the laughter and chatter. “I have some unfortunate news to share with you….”
A hush settled and we all gathered around the somber lawyer.
“In the excitement, no one…with the exception of our keen-eyed and sharp-eared investigator, Mr. Heller… heard the foreman of the jury’s full statement. I have inquired as to the contents of that statement. It seems that after announcing the not-guilty verdict, the foreman read the jury’s recommendation that Alfred de Marigny and Georges de Visdelou be deported from the Bahamas forthwith.”
Gasps of horror filled the room, and de Marigny, frowning, coldly indignant, said, “They have no jurisdiction to do so!”
“You’re right,” Higgs said, “and we can fight this. Unfortunately…”
“Unfortunately?” de Marigny asked.
“Ernest Callender did some asking around-and, while we must consider that tension runs high right now, the word is that this recommendation is one that the Governor is likely to act upon.”
The Duke of Windsor would have his way after all.
“Apparently,” Higgs said hollowly, “they intend to act upon violations of yours regarding the rationing of petrol.”
De Visdelou looked like he might weep; de Marigny stared at the floor, a glazed smile on the sensuous lips, while Nancy hugged his arm supportively.
A funereal pall fell across the little party, and people began to drift away, stopping to express both their congratulations and condolences to the de Marignys.
Before she and Freddie left, Nancy said to me, painfully earnest, “I may have to leave this island-but you’re going to stay! Right?”
“Right,” I said.
An hour later, I was sitting on the couch in my cottage, feet on the coffee table, when I heard the key being worked in the lock of my side door; my shapely landlord, wearing high heels, panties and a nasty little smile, was bringing yet another bottle of champagne around.
“Nightcap?” she asked. She had two glasses in one hand.
“Sure.” I hadn’t really had much.
Di was a little giggly, but not really drunk. She sat in my lap and put her tongue halfway down my throat and nibbled my ear and nuzzled my neck.
“I travel,” she said.
“Pardon?”
“I travel. Even get to Chicago, from time to time. I’ll come see you….”
“That would be nice. But I understand full well that we’re just…a summer romance.”
“Oh, we’re more than that, Heller.”
“Good. Marry me, then. Bring your money.”
“You are
“I use an automatic.”
“Whatever. But from time to time, now and then, I’ll show up on your doorstep, and, married or single, you’ll have a wonderful time with me….”
“That would also be nice.”
Her giddiness disappeared and she looked on the verge of tears. “How I hate to see you go….”
