I had to agree with him. I’ll admit I had trouble thinking of Libby as a stone-cold killer, however years of abuse and stress can do terrible things to a person. I guess I could see her wanting to kill Bennett after everything he’d put her through. Less clear was what would have been her motivation to kill Arthur, or David, for that matter? My mind ticked through the possibilities, coming up blank each time.
“Sheriff?” Deputy Wilmore called out. “Found something interesting over here.” He held up a small gold key with a rounded top. I recognized it right away as the key to a post office box.
“Now why would a person have a PO box key while he was out hunting turkey?” Carl muttered.
“Maybe he was planning to stop by the post office later—actually that doesn’t make a lot of sense, because this was an early morning hunt and would be over before the post office even opened,” I said. “Or maybe he didn’t want to leave that key lying around for some reason.”
Carl picked up on my train of thought. “Ted, can you go down to the post office and find out what’s in that box. If Leon gives you any trouble, call Judge DeFreitas and ask her for a warrant.” Then he turned to me. “I need you to go back to the Times office and wait for me to call. I’m going to go see Libby”—I started to argue and he put up a hand to stop me. “You’ll get the story, don’t worry. But I’ve got to go tell a woman she’s lost her husband, and trust me when I tell you that is no place for the press.”
CHAPTER 40
I spent the next couple of hours walking around the newsroom trying to act busy. I fed Aunt Beast, bounced on Holman’s chair, looked over the obit draft, called a few sources to interview about the Roy G. Biv story—but I spent most of the time checking my phone. When Carl finally called and asked if I could come down to the station, I was out the door in three seconds flat.
First, Carl told me that Dr. Mendez had called and said it would be a while till he could say for certain, but he believed Bennett’s injuries were consistent with a self-inflicted gunshot wound. This meant that in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, medically speaking, it appeared to be an accident. When I asked if there was any evidence to the contrary as of yet, Carl said, “Just wait. There’s more.”
He told me about his difficult conversation with Libby Nichols, and that while she was stoic upon hearing the news that Bennett had died, during the course of the conversation she broke down several times. “She said she told Bennett he wasn’t strong enough to go hunting and he just blew her off. Told her it was his form of relaxation. That woman’s emotions were all over the place. If she was acting, someone ought to give her an Oscar.”
When I asked whether Carl thought Libby could have been involved in Bennett’s death, he said, “Just wait. There’s more.”
Deputy Wilmore was able to get access to Bennett’s post office box and inside found a picture of Libby and Arthur Davenport locked in a passionate embrace. The photo, which Carl showed me, looked like it’d been taken from a distance through a window. It had been printed out on computer paper and the resolution wasn’t great—but even still, the two were clearly visible. It had a date stamp on it: the day before Arthur was killed.
When I asked if Carl thought this made it look like Bennett might have been the one who killed Arthur, I answered my own question before he had a chance: “Don’t tell me: just wait. There’s more.”
Carl nodded. “The box also contained several empty sample bottles of Digoxicon, the drug that was used to poison Arthur and David Davenport. The way it looks right now is that Bennett found out that Libby and Arthur were still seeing each other, and he killed Arthur because of it. Libby confirmed Bennett was taking this for his heart condition and the pill bottles are being tested for prints.”
“What about Bennett’s alibi?”
“All we know for sure is that the time of death was 11:13 p.m. Dr. Mendez confirmed that the lethality of this drug really depends on the quantity used and how quickly it’s ingested. It’s possible that Arthur had been sipping on the poisoned whiskey for hours before he actually died. Libby said Bennett came home Monday evening about 7:30, and before that had been at his office alone—”
I finished his thought: “—which means if Bennett was the killer, he could have given Arthur the poisoned whiskey earlier in the night and then come home to arrange for the world’s most perfect alibi: the sheriff himself.”
“Exactly.” Carl clenched his jaw. I could see that he was discomfited by the idea that Bennett had played him for a fool.
Another thought leapt to my mind. “That could also explain why Bennett stabbed Arthur after he was already dead.”
“How so?”
“Think about it from Bennett’s perspective: he gives Arthur the whiskey at some point, maybe he stops by his house on his way home from work, let’s say around 6:30. That would have been before Thad got there. Maybe he says it’s a thank-you for saving his life, or gives it to him as a peace offering or something . . .” I was making this up as I went along, my imagination dreaming up the scenario like it was a movie. “Bennett wanted Arthur dead, he told me as much when I interviewed him. Of course, he wouldn’t have wanted a violent confrontation because he wasn’t strong enough after the recent episode with his heart. So he crushes up his pills, gives
