“Who told you about that?” asked Kirsten with a frown. “I didn’t think anyone knew.”
“I don’t remember who told me, exactly,” Gran lied. “So it’s true? He said he was going to make you rich?”
“Oh, that was just talk. I didn’t pay much attention to any of that. I think deep down Henry was lonely, and he thought that by telling me how rich he was, and how he was going to make me a rich woman one day, he was simply trying to get my attention. But I could have told him it wasn’t necessary. I liked him just the way he was, rich or poor. I thought he was a kind man, and very wise, and also very funny.”
“He said he lived an eventful life, and that he had secrets that he never told anyone. Did he share some of those secrets with you?”
“No, he didn’t. And I honestly don’t believe he did lead such an interesting life, or had any secrets. I think he was a very nice person, but he made all of that stuff up.”
“So no secrets? And no big fortune?”
“No, of course not. If he really was a millionaire or a billionaire, do you think he would have been a resident here? This isn’t the kind of place where billionaires come to spend their final days, Mrs. Corr. So no, I never believed any of that.”
“Do you think Desmond might have believed it?”
“Oh, absolutely. Desmond would believe anything,” she said with a touch of bitterness. “He loves money, and if Henry told him he was rich, he would have lapped it up. But honestly I don’t think he talked to Desmond all that much. They weren’t friends or anything.”
“But Henry wrote in his will that he left everything to Desmond,” said Gran.
Kirsten looked astonished at this.“He did? How strange. I never would have thought…”
“It’s possible it’s an old will, of course,” said Gran. “Maybe dates back to when Henry first arrived here, fifteen years ago.”
“Yes, I guess that’s possible. But still. Why would he leave everything to Desmond? They didn’t even get along.”
“I don’t think she did it,” said Dooley. “If Henry was murdered, I mean,” he said. “But if he was killed, my money is on Desmond.”
“And Henry’s money, too, apparently,” I said.
“Remember how we were wondering about Desmond’s fancy car? And his expensive watch? And how he managed to afford it on his salary? Maybe he’s done this before. Maybe he’s killed other residents, and made them leave everything to him in their will.”
“It’s possible,” I said. Though unlikely, I would have added. Then again, in a long and checkered career as a sleuth I’ve seen so many odd cases nothing surprises me anymore.
We’d just finished talking to Kirsten when the girl’s mother popped in for a visit. She said she’d heard about what happened to Henry and wanted to see if her daughter was all right.
“I’m fine, Mom,” said Kirsten. “Just a little shocked, that’s all. I only saw Henry yesterday, and he was so healthy and so energetic. And now all of a sudden, he’s gone. I can’t really believe it, you know.”
“I know,” said Annette. “But maybe it’s for the best.”
“Mom, how can you say that! He was my friend!”
“Of course he was,” said Annette, but she couldn’t conceal she was secretly happy the man was dead, and wouldn’t be able to do whatever he planned to do to Kirsten.
Gran took Annette aside for a little chat.“So rumor has it that the police are conducting a full murder inquiry,” she said. “And so we’re trying to piece back together what actually happened last night. You wouldn’t have been in the vicinity, would you?”
Annette laughed a nervous laugh.“What are you talking about? If I wanted to kill Henry, do you think I would have asked Odelia to investigate the man? I’m the one who got you here, Mrs. Muffin, don’t you forget that.”
“Oh, I know, I know,” said Gran. “But I have to cover all of my bases. And you’ve got a motive to kill the man, Mrs. Williams, you have to admit that. You were afraid of what Henry might do to Kirsten, so maybe you received some troubling information and decided to act before he got the chance to do whatever he was up to?”
“I didn’t receive any information apart from what I told your granddaughter,” said Annette with a touch of stiffness. And I could see where she was coming from. If you ask a person to help you protect your daughter, and then this person turns around and accuses you of murder, it’s like nursing a viper in your bosom, if you see what I mean. Treacherous, you know. Not very nice.
“Look, I didn’t like Henry, that’s true,” said Annette, settling down somewhat after her first outburst of anger. “And I didn’t trust him. And I was worried about my daughter. But I’m not a killer, Mrs. Muffin. And you can tell Odelia that. And besides, I was home last night—all night.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm that?”
“Actually, there is. Kirsten was home. She can confirm my alibi,” said Annette.