“Well, Mother Thayer,” Jack said with a rueful laugh, “sorry to drag you into this, but since Jill won’t listen to her sister or me, will you tell her that she has to get this woman out of the house?”
“Oh, please, Jack,” his mother-in-law said, leaning on Susan. She stretched out a hand to him without looking at him, and I was interested to note that her eyes didn’t turn red with crying. “I just don’t have the strength to deal with Jill in one of her moods.” However, she pulled herself into a sitting position, still holding on to Jack’s hand, and looked at Jill earnestly. “Jill, I just cannot stand for you to have one of your temper tantrums right now. You and Peter never listen to what anyone has to say to you. If Petey had, he wouldn’t be dead now. With Petey dead, and John, I just can’t take anything else. So don’t talk to this private detective any longer. She’s taking advantage of you to get her name in the paper, and I can’t bear another scandal about this family.”
Before I could say anything, Jill tore herself away from me, her little face crimson. “Don’t talk like that to me!” she screamed. “I care about Pete and Daddy and you don’t! You’re the one who’s bringing scandals into the house. Everybody knows you didn’t love Daddy! Everybody knows what you and Dr. Mulgrave were up to! Daddy was probably—”
Susan leaped up from the couch and slapped her sister hard on the face. “You goddamn brat, be quiet!” Mrs. Thayer started weeping in earnest. Jill, overcome by assorted strong and uncontrollable feelings, began sobbing again.
At that moment a worried-looking man in a business suit came into the room, escorted by one of the patrolmen. He crossed to Mrs. Thayer and clasped her hands. “Margaret! I came as soon as I heard the news. How are you? ”
Susan blushed. Jill’s sobs died away. Jack looked as though he had been stuffed. Mrs. Thayer turned large tragic eyes to the newcomer’s face. “Ted. How kind of you,” she said in a brave voice, barely above a whisper.
“Dr. Mulgrave, I presume,” I said.
He dropped Mrs. Thayer’s wrists and stood up straight. “Yes, I’m Dr. Mulgrave.” He looked at Jack. “Is this a policewoman?”
“No,” I said. “I’m a private investigator. Miss Thayer has hired me to find out who killed her father and brother.”
“Margaret?” he asked incredulously.
“No. Miss Thayer. Jill,” I said.
Jack said, “Mrs. Thayer just ordered you to leave her house and leave her daughter alone. I’d think even an ambulance chaser like you would know how to take a hint like that.”
“Oh, cool it, Thorndale,” I said. “What’s eating you? Jill asked me to come up here because she’s scared silly—as any normal person would be with all this going on. But you guys are so defensive you make me wonder what you’re hiding.”
“What do you mean?” he scowled.
“Well, why don’t you want me looking into your father-in-law’s death? What are you afraid I’ll find out—that he and Peter caught you with your fingers in the till and you had them shot to shut them up?”
I ignored his outraged gasp. “What about you, Doctor? Did Mr. Thayer learn about your relations with his wife and threaten divorce—but you decided a wealthy widow was a better bet than a woman who couldn’t make a very good case for alimony?”
“Now look here, whatever your name is. I don’t have to listen to that kind of crap,” Mulgrave started.
“Then leave,” I said. “Maybe Lucy is using this house as a center for burglarizing wealthy homes on the North Shore—after all, as a maid, she probably hears a lot about where jewelry, documents, and so on are kept. When Mr. Thayer and his son got too hot on her trail, she hired a murderer.” I smiled enthusiastically at Susan, who was starting to babble—I was getting carried away by my own fantasies. “I could probably think of a motive for you too, Mrs. Thorndale. All I’m trying to say is, you people are so hostile that it starts me wondering. The less you want me to undertake a murder investigation, the more I start thinking there might be something to my ideas.”
When I stopped talking, they were silent for a minute. Mulgrave was clasping Mrs. Thayer’s hands again, sitting next to her now. Susan looked like a kitten getting ready to spit at a dog. My client was sitting on one of the bamboo side chairs, her hands clenched in her lap, her face intent. Then Mulgrave said, “Are you trying to threaten us—threaten the Thayer family?”
“If you mean, am I threatening to find out the truth, the answer is yes; if that means turning up a lot of sordid junk along the way, tough.”