I’ll bet he did. And the whole set of a lot more things, if the contents of his living room were a telltale sign. Curios, trinkets, DVDs, and canned items filled the shelves. The floors swam with bikes and balls. It was a junk hoarder’s paradise. I also spotted peculiar looking things that I was pretty sure were medieval weaponry, and another idea hit me. Arlo liked to collect weapons. Had he stolen Ipo’s kala’au rods?
“What is all this, Arlo?” I swept my hand at the array of goods.
“A mess.” Delilah left us to browse the room.
“Why are you inside my house?” Arlo folded his arms in front of his torso as if that might make him look brawnier. It didn’t.
“We thought you might be hurt.” I didn’t add that we thought he might have been dead or Kaitlyn’s lover or possibly a killer. There was no need to confuse him with the details.
Delilah held up three tubes of wrapping paper with wedding bells on it. “Arlo, why do you have these? And what about this?” She displayed a stuffed spotted giraffe, the freebie given only to tots from the children’s store in town.
“I can explain.”
“How about this?” Delilah nabbed a carton of seven-seed crackers. “Did you buy this?”
“No.”
Delilah turned to me. “Are you missing inventory from the shop, Charlotte? As far as I know, you’re the only one in town who sells these. There are hatbox-style cheese containers here, too. Not refrigerated. Ugh.” She glowered at Arlo. “Did you filch all this stuff? Are you a kleptomaniac?”
I looked at Arlo, searching for a nicer word. “Are you a collector?”
His arms fell to his sides. He lowered his chin. “When my wife died, I had this … need … to fill the void.”
“With things?” I said.
He kicked the nunchakus on the floor with disgust.
“Who are you afraid of, Arlo?”
“Huh?” He looked at me, rheumy eyed.
“You said you believed someone was following you. Who?” I thought of Oscar Carson. Delilah claimed he was stalking Georgia. What if Oscar was stalking Arlo on Kaitlyn’s orders? She was dead, but that didn’t mean Oscar didn’t have a job to do. “And why?”
“Blackmail,” he said.
“Kaitlyn Clydesdale was blackmailing you.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” he blurted, as if prompted to confess on his deathbed.
On the night of the murder, had he gone to confront Kaitlyn? Had the confrontation gotten out of hand?
“For how much money?” I asked.
“I don’t have any money. I’m broke. I’ve given everything I have to my four girls. But do they and their kids come to visit Grandpa? No, they hate me!” His face drew into a pitiful pucker.
Delilah nudged me. “We’re getting off track.”
“Arlo,” I said, wishing I could salve his obvious pain. “I’m sorry about your family, but I asked you a question about Kaitlyn. You said she was blackmailing you. For how much?” Peanuts might not be a good enough motive.
“She didn’t want money,” he snarled.
“What did she want?”
“My property.”
I couldn’t see Kaitlyn Clydesdale ever setting foot on the chicken farm. Had she wanted the property so she could expand the honeybee farm she was planning?
“Did you steal Ipo’s kala’au rods?” I asked.
Arlo looked perplexed. “Why would I do something like that? Ipo’s my friend.”
At least Arlo had a modicum of honor. Or did he? I eyed the nunchakus again. They looked about the same size as the luau instruments. Had Urso and the coroner gotten the weapon of destruction wrong? Arlo glanced where I was looking and back at me. His gaze narrowed.
“Arlo, you were in The Cheese Shop the other day,” I said. “You left hurriedly when Kaitlyn Clydesdale entered.”
“Did not.”
“Yes, you did. A few minutes later, someone called her. Was it you?”
“I don’t have her number.”
Delilah jabbed a finger at him. “She was blackmailing you.”
“We never spoke on the telephone.” He shifted feet.
“It’s easy enough to check,” Delilah went on. “Hand over your cell phone.”
“I don’t have to.”
Delilah took a menacing step toward him.
Arlo sputtered, “I lost it.”
“Oh, please.” Delilah threw him a cynical look.
“It’s true. I lost it yesterday while I was at the Village Green. It must have fallen out of my overcoat. It’s got a hole in the pocket.”
“Did you check lost and found?” I asked. Grandmere had set up a booth at the north end of the faire, closest to the Providence Precinct.
Sheepishly, he shook his head.
I said, “Arlo, your story is sounding fishy. I think you were worried that Kaitlyn was going to tell people that you are a kleptomaniac. Did you hurt her before she could?”
“I threatened her, but I didn’t kill her.” His eyes flickered with desperation. “I need help. Mental help. I know that. I’m a thief, but I’m not a killer. Please, you’ve got to believe me.” He caved in on himself. “Please,” he whimpered. “I did lose my phone.”
Pepere always said:
“Arlo, I believe you.” I crossed my fingers behind my back. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt anything, right?
The man looked as happy as if I had bailed him out of a raging river.
“But you have to do one thing for me,” I went on.
“Name it.”
“Come with me and tell Chief Urso everything.” The least I could do for Ipo Ho was give Urso the notion that there might be other suspects.
CHAPTER
After suggesting that Arlo change into something more appropriate than pajamas, Delilah and I escorted him to the Providence Precinct. Clad in black trousers, a sweater, and the peacoat that Delilah insisted he wear, he looked like a decent, upstanding citizen. We left him with the clerk and entered Urso’s office.
Quickly I gave him a recap: how we went to Arlo’s place for a chat; how we entered when we thought he might be injured; and what facts we had gleaned—Kaitlyn had blackmailed Arlo about his kleptomania and had barred Barton Burrell from backing out of the contract.
“Okay, stop right there.” Urso strode around his tidy desk and stalked me like a hungry bear ready to pounce on fresh meat. “Charlotte, you have a lot of nerve—”
“We had to do something,” I cut in, my voice weaker than I’d hoped. “Arlo was acting so sneaky. Lois said he was skulking around the B&B.”
“Lots of folks in town are sneaky. Are you going to break into their homes, too?”
“We came up with answers,” Delilah said, much more forcefully than I.
Urso cut her a harsh look. “Not a word from you, understood?”
Delilah wove her hands behind her back like a chastised student in the principal’s office.
Urso regarded me again. I wished I could melt into the carpet and disappear. He sighed. “Explain about the blackmail.”
