The Marsh Madness

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. “It seemed right for the moment.”


“I get that. So here’s the thing: We were seen leaving in a hurry. The Caddy and my Saab. There were witnesses. The people we met in the house have vanished and, in fact, they don’t seem to exist, except for Chadwick, who is dead, unless he wasn’t really Chadwick. And it gets worse.”

“How can it get worse?”

I explained about Kev’s fingerprints and everything that had gone on between Castellano and me. I said I had a lawyer. I may not have mentioned that Tyler had made that arrangement.

“Well, this time, I’m there for you, beautiful lady. Do you need . . . What do you need?”

“Information. And photos. I need to see what Chadwick Kauffman really looked like. I’ve done image searches and I can’t find a picture of the man we met.”

It’s hard to surprise Lance, but I’d managed. “You mean that someone might have been masquerading as Chadwick?” His eyes danced when he said “masquerading.” Lance kind of enjoyed being drawn into an old-fashioned caper.

“Looks that way.”

Lance lowered his voice and leaned closer. “And you think that’s the guy who was murdered?”

“So far, there’s no way to know if it was the real Chadwick or the imposter.”

A tall seventy-something woman with great silver hair stepped forward, frowning. “Excuse me, but I was at the head of this line, young woman. You can’t push yourself in like that.”

Lance turned and touched her forearm lightly. He said soothingly, “Family emergency.” He then returned his attention and the full wattage of his gaze to me. Lance and I will never be an item, but up close he can still make my knees go weak.

A round little lady in a hand-knit pink sweater said, “I’m in a hurry too! People have to take their turns.” Everyone needed their Lance fix.

Lance ignored them and steered me over to the bay of shelves with the encyclopedias, where we’d probably be unpestered.

I said, “And we can’t forget the other two.”

“The other two?”

“His alleged assistant, a Miss Troy, and the butler, Thomas, have vanished, and according to the police, he never had a butler and his assistant was not called Miss Troy.”

“Nothing’s like it seems, like that old film, Gaslight.”

“Exactly, and then Chadwick or someone else was murdered. He was alive when we left him with two witnesses, but now our witnesses do not appear to exist. So I need to know if the person who we met as Chadwick really was Chadwick. I cannot find this guy’s image anywhere, but I understand that Chadwick doesn’t seek the camera.”

“I’m on it. What a weird setup.”

“Yes, and I think that’s exactly what it was. A setup for murder. But who set it up? And why would they have picked Vera as a target?”

“Did they seek her out? Or did Vera find out about the collection?” He stopped and stared. “Did you?”

“Chadwick Kauffman contacted us. Or at least his people did. Anyway, you can see how much I need your help.”

“I sure can. Give me a bit of time and I’ll find what you need. I may have to deal with the clamoring hordes first.”

“I appreciate it, Lance.”

“I’ll send you links to whatever I find.”

I headed out of the library, ignoring the dirty looks from the posse and hoping that the police wouldn’t be through the door before I got away.

Thinking about the police reminded me that I hadn’t yet thanked Tyler for his help. I tried to call him again. I wanted to hear his voice too. Again, straight to message.

I checked my own voice mails, but nothing from him.

My phone pinged again. Speak of the devil, Officer Dekker, texting.