hostage until they were out at sea, away from any witnesses, but decided their captors would see that as full of risks. The killers would have been forced to try to follow the Sea Dreamer in the dark, and without attracting attention. The Ducanes might have been able to fight back or use the radio or manage to escape, especially-on a boat that large- if they weren’t all grouped together.
“Pirate movies make boarding another vessel look easier than it is,” I added. “And you told me that the fisherman who found the yacht didn’t see any signs of a struggle or that anyone had used life jackets. The killer was aboard from the start and abandoned the yacht after Thelma and Barrett Ducane were dead. My guess is, they were drugged or knocked unconscious and drowned.”
“Why not just shoot them, too?”
“Because that would show up if and when the bodies washed ashore. If you want people to stop looking for Katy and Todd, you have to make it seem as if everyone might have been lost overboard that night.” I looked at my notes. “The coroner found salt water in Thelma’s and Barrett’s lungs, so they were alive at some point when they were in the water. In cold water, in evening clothes, they would have had difficulty swimming even if they regained consciousness. I think someone took them so far offshore, they didn’t have a chance of getting back in alive. And if they were taken out into the fog, the Ducanes might not have even known which direction to swim in to reach shore.”
He nodded. “The killer then brings the Sea Dreamer closer to shore, abandons it, and swims to the beach. He made a couple of mistakes, though. He left it too pristine, didn’t turn the radio on, and took the key. Probably force of habit. Maybe he expected the yacht to break up in the storm that was on its way. But the boat survived.”
“Yes-do you know what became of it?”
“Warren sold it to Lillian. She has it maintained, but I don’t think she uses it much, if at all.”
“Another museum?”
He shrugged.
I was beginning to get a picture of how tightly Lillian held on to the past.
O’Connor pointed to the sailor question-mark doll and said, “What became of this one after he finished with the Ducanes?”
“For now, let’s put him in the unknown headquarters of the Boss, the unknown mastermind of all these activities.” I also put the question-mark car there, for the Boss to escape in.
“Unknown?” O’Connor said. “I think I know his name: Mitch Yeager. I think I’ve known that for years.”
I studied him. He had mentioned Yeager before. Time to ask some hard questions. “Did you believe that before you knew Kyle Yeager might be Max?”
He paced, and rubbed a hand through his hair, making a mess of it. “I suppose so. I never had an ounce of proof, mind you, and never came close to finding any. He wasn’t even in Las Piernas that weekend, from all I could discover. But there was that note Katy left, and-frankly, I couldn’t think of anyone else who would have the power to do it, or who hated Jack more than he did.”
“Hated Jack? Why?”
“Jack wrote stories that ultimately helped to put Mitch’s brother in prison, and almost sent Mitch there himself. Cost him a fortune in legal fees. Mitch nearly got Jack fired from the paper-Old Man Wrigley had enough spine to say no to that, but he wouldn’t let Jack write about Yeager.”
“Spine? I’ll bet Jack’s stories sold papers. And Jack could have had his pick of the L.A. papers.”
“That’s true,” O’Connor said.
“What about the others? Did Mitch hate the Ducanes?”
O’Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. They socialized and seemed to have been friends. The Ducanes helped him out when he was in trouble, bought his companies so that he’d have the cash he needed. There weren’t many people in a position to do that during the Depression. He bought the companies back, eventually.”
We were silent for a long time, looking at all the paper figures on the table- top.
“Let’s leave the question of the mastermind open for now,” I said. “Let’s just try to figure out what happened, okay?”
He seemed ready to object, then nodded. “We know the couples were separated, and that only Thelma and Barrett stayed at the marina. While all of that was going on, Katy and Todd and the dog were killed and put in the trunk of the Buick.”
“Which ends up on the farm. Griffin Baer might have been there that night, operating the tractor.” I looked at my notes again. “Jack told you he saw an old man operating it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Griffin Baer was sixty-two in 1958.”
“Jack had a skinful of martinis and a concussion.”
“Was he wrong about anything else?”
“No,” O’Connor admitted. He started pacing again.
None of this was going to get any easier on him, so I watched him for a minute or two before I said, “I think the killing must have taken place after the Buick was driven to the farm. And I think Katy or Todd fought them.”
He halted and stared at me. “What makes you say so?”
“The windshield. The fact that the car was wrecked. Maybe one of them was already dead when the other struggled-I don’t know. But Jack said the car’s grill was smashed in before it was buried.”
I told him about the dog fur being found on the flashlight, the signs that someone in the backseat bled-perhaps after being struck with the flashlight, too. “That had to be Katy, I think. When Woolsey finally releases the autopsies on Katy and Todd, we’ll know more. Todd was probably driving. Maybe Katy started fighting the man who took them.”
“More likely her than Todd,” he said quietly.
I tried to picture it. “Something happens to make the car go out of control, maybe the struggle in the backseat distracts Todd, or he’s shot-I don’t know. Blood ends up on the windshield. The dog is probably killed by a blow from the flashlight. Katy is hit with the flashlight, several times. She’s also shot, so maybe he shoots her after she’s unconscious.”
I heard him make a sound, as if he had been struck himself, and waited a moment before going on. He sat down.
“The killer puts Katy and Todd and the dog in the trunk, probably with Griffin Baer’s help. He takes off in a car that’s already waiting for him at the farm.” I moved the second unknown car to the farm.
O’Connor didn’t say anything. He looked toward the paper version of Katy’s house.
“Gus Ronden kills the nursemaid, Rose Hannon,” I said. “He doesn’t mind that part of it-he’s cruel. He might have someone with him, but I think it’s more likely he’s alone.”
“I agree.”
I put Gus and the baby in the Imperial, but before I moved it, I said, “Now, this is really important-blood matching Rose Hannon’s was found on clothing at his house, but nothing indicating the baby was there, right?”
“Right. Dan Norton searched the place for any sign of the child. Nothing was found. And the neighbor didn’t hear or see a child.”
“So he either killed the baby before he got home, or handed it off to someone else. No type O blood on the clothing Gus left in the hamper?”
“No,” he said slowly, “but an infant that young could be smothered or killed in any number of other ways that wouldn’t cause bleeding.”
“Yes, but this goes back to what I was saying when we were over at the Ducanes’-if the baby was supposed to be killed, Gus Ronden would have killed it there. And if the baby was just supposed to be held for ransom, why not take the nurse along as a hostage, too?”
“Adults are harder to manage.”
“Okay. But the fact is, no ransom note was ever delivered.”
“Maybe Gus bungled the kidnapping and the child died,” O’Connor said. “In truth, we just don’t know what happened to that little boy.”
“No, but Warren Ducane thought young Kyle Yeager-now Max-was that child, so that’s still a possibility. And if that’s true, we keep coming back to the same name again and again, and it’s the man you’ve suspected. Mitch
