with her.”
“World War II?” Candy asked in clarification.
“Yes, yes, of course. I was born in 1946. We left in forty-eight. Not because we had to, but because my mother wanted to take me away from the fatherland-and away from my father.” Herr Georg’s gaze shifted back to her, and he looked hard into Candy’s eyes, unwilling to run anymore from his past. “My father was a war criminal-or so I was told by my mother, in her last breaths, before she passed from this earth. She told me he committed terrible atrocities-awful, terrible things-for which he was arrested and tried after the war. It was a dreadful time in our country’s history. My mother, to shield me from what was happening, to protect me from the repercussions of what might occur because of my father’s acts, took me first to England, then brought me here, to the United States, hoping to start a new life. And together we did just that.”
Herr Georg’s gaze shifted away again as he went on. “We took a steamer to New York City, where we lived for a few years. I remember the transatlantic passage well, and many of my earliest memories are of that city. We changed our name, tried to start a new life-but our history was soon discovered. The sins of my father followed us to our adopted country. So we moved again, northward-to Worcester, then to Lewiston, and finally to Calais, at the far eastern edge of Maine -as far as we could go and still remain in this country. My mother loved it there-she said she felt as close to the fatherland as she could be and still live in America. You see, even though she hated what her country had done, she never forgot her heritage, and she would not let me forget it. To make ends meet, she worked as a cook, then as a baker. She was quite accomplished and made a small name for herself, and so I learned from her. When she died I came here, because I loved this village when I visited once with my mother. I love the sea, and I loved the people here. And here I have been ever since-and my secret has remained buried… until Sapphire Vine started digging around in my past.”
“How did she find out about it?” Candy asked in a hushed tone.
Herr Georg shrugged. “Who knows? She was a gossip, you know-she talked to so many people. Somehow, somewhere, she heard rumors about me, or read something about me that sparked her curiosity-I don’t know for certain-but she soon found out about my past, and my father’s atrocities. One day-five years ago or so-she confronted me, almost as you just did in the shop. She told me she had evidence-documents. I didn’t believe her at first. I told her she was mistaken. Then she showed me one of them. She had many more, she said. I didn’t know whether to believe her or not, but I could not take the chance.”
Candy felt a flash of anger go through her. “What an awful woman!”
“Oh yes, she certainly was that,” Herr Georg said, “and much worse than you even know. You see, she threatened to reveal what she had discovered about me-that my father was a Nazi war criminal. Of course, I couldn’t let that information get out to the public-I have a reputation to protect, you know, one that I have spent many years building. If such a story were to leak out, I would be ruined.”
“So what happened?”
Herr Georg sighed and shook his head. “What could I do? I offered to pay her to keep her silent.”
“She blackmailed you?”
“Yes, blackmail.”
“And she’s been blackmailing you ever since?”
He nodded.
“How much have you paid her?”
Herr Georg shrugged. “Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. I honestly don’t know. Every few months, when she needed money, she would call me up or send an e-mail. And not just money. The woman was relentless.”
It took a moment for the rest of Herr Georg’s statement to register with her, and like a knife it struck her deep. Instantly she knew what he was talking about. She couldn’t help gasping. “Not just money? You mean the pageant!”
Herr Georg’s head fell again. Almost imperceptibly, he nodded.
Candy quickly put it together. “She threatened to reveal your past… unless you rigged the scoring so she would win!”
Herr Georg shook his head. “Oh no, no, nothing as conspiratorial as that! Yes, I gave her much higher scores than she deserved, and I scored the other contestants lower than they deserved. But that is all. I didn’t change the scores for the other judges! You must believe me, Candy, when I tell you that I didn’t think it would make any difference. I honestly didn’t! I thought my scores would have no effect on the outcome of the pageant. There were four other judges. I was certain Haley would win by enough points that mine wouldn’t alter the outcome.”
He raised his eyebrows, let out a breath. “But, of course, it did. I have lived with this terrible thing I have done ever since.”
“Herr Georg, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Please, Candy, don’t think ill of me. I had no choice. I had to do as she asked. You see that, don’t you?”
“Well,” Candy said after many long moments, “I can understand why you voted for Sapphire, yes, and why you gave her money. But it was a foolish thing to do in the first place. No one cares about your past. It wouldn’t have mattered to anyone. And now-well, now you’re in a tight spot. You realize that if the police find out about this, you will become the prime suspect in Sapphire’s death. After all, you had motive. You’re the only person so far who’s had good reason to see Sapphire dead.”
He turned to her then, a pleading look in his eyes. “But they must not find out about this, Candy. They must not! I despised Sapphire, yes-I hated what she was doing to me. But I didn’t kill her! I could never do such a thing! You must believe me!”
For whatever reason, Candy knew he was telling the truth. “I believe you, Herr Georg-I really do-but the question is, will anyone else? And there’s another question that’s even more important.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, if you didn’t kill Sapphire, and Ray didn’t… who did?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Who did?
Who really killed Susan Jane Vincent, alias Sapphire Vine, the Blueberry Queen of Cape Willington, Maine?
That was the question that plagued Candy as she and Herr Georg walked back up Ocean Avenue to the Black Forest. They spoke little now, both of them lost in their thoughts. When they reached the bakery, as Herr Georg nervously tidied up around the front counter and checked on his wares, Candy walked into the back room, gathered up the faded documents from the table where she had left them, walked back out into the front room, and handed the documents to the baker.
“You should have these,” she told him.
He hesitated before reaching for them. “Candy, are you sure you want to do this?”
She nodded. “I’ll give you all the other documents as well. I’ve got them back at the house. You can decide what to do with them. It’s not up to me-and now that Sapphire’s gone, your secret is safe. Let’s talk about it no more.”
And they didn’t. Since Herr Georg had finished in the kitchen, and the crowds had lightened considerably since the morning rush, Candy gave Herr Georg a hug, and walked out into the summer day.
As she headed up the street to her car, she felt she had done the right thing in returning the documents to Herr Georg. Still, now that she had left his shop, she couldn’t keep a lingering doubt from creeping in. His story made sense and the documents appeared to back it up. And if he was indeed telling the truth, as she honestly felt he was, then it followed logically that Sapphire found out about his past and blackmailed him. After all, she had all those documents in her possession, which made Herr Georg’s story all the more likely.
But the fact remained that Sapphire Vine was dead. Someone had killed her. And though Candy found it not only absurd but also literally painful to think that Herr Georg could have plunged a hammer into the back of Sapphire’s head (not to mention how painful it must have been for Sapphire herself), the fact remained that he had an excellent motive for doing just that.
