Read Online A Watery Grave by Joan Druett - Free Book Online

Virginia.”
    â€œSon,” the sheriff heavily pronounced, “anything under the sun is possible in Virginia. If she sued for divorce on the grounds of desertion—which she could and would have done once he’d sailed off—she would be declared feme sole and regain full control of her own property. The Stantons would have been ruined. Tristram Stanton is the obvious killer—but unless a score of guests and a whole passel of Pierce servants are lying in their teeth, there is no way he could have done it. I went around the confounded fleet, tracking down the men who were at that goddamned banquet, and one and all confirmed that he was there.”
    Wiki remembered the hatred on the old man’s face and said, “Is it at all possible the father did it?”
    â€œIt just don’t seem logical that the servants would testify that they saw Tristram Stanton—not once, but twice, and the second time packing a gun—just to protect the old man. There’s no love for either master in that household. And while he had the power of an ox in his youth, I don’t see the old man breaking a struggling woman’s neck—he’s too lame. And something else that’s damn weird—the surgeon says she’d eaten opium.”
    â€œOpium?” exclaimed Wiki, startled.
    â€œYup. The old medic started talking opium poisoning the moment he pulled back her eyelids—and we agreed with him when we found the empty vial tucked away in her bosom. He’s positive she would’ve died jest from that—and yet her neck was busted, too.” The sheriff’s tone became plaintive. “Why kill her twice, when once was enough?”
    â€œAnd why break her neck,” Wiki said slowly, “when there was a good chance otherwise that people would assume she’d poisoned herself?”
    â€œSon, you’ve hit the nail on the head,” said the sheriff, and sighed gustily. Then his gaze slid sideways to study Wiki’s face, while his lips pursed in and out as he deliberated. After a long moment he said, “I’d consider it a favor if you’d keep on thinking about this murder, son—and about Tristram Stanton in particular. If somethin’ should come up—”
    The southern drawl trailed off. Wiki paused to make sure that the sheriff was not going to finish the sentence; then he said tentatively, “When we went into Tristram Stanton’s study, did you notice the top hat that had been left on the desk?”
    The sheriff squinted one eye in thought and then nodded.
    â€œWhen he came in, I thought Stanton looked different from the way he had looked on the riverbank, and then realized he had some kind of pomade on his hair. He had changed into the kind of clothes that are correct for a newly bereaved husband, so the obvious conclusion was that he’d dressed his hair like that for formal occasions—which meant that the top hat should have been greasy inside the brim. But when I looked closer, I found no trace of wax at all, even though the hat was well worn.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œOnce it seemed evident that the top hat did not belong to Tristram Stanton, I began to speculate about the man who had left it there—which led me to wonder if the murder could have been carried out by an imposter. So long as he was about the right height and build and was wearing the right clothes, he could have gotten away with it. It was dark, remember, and though the manservant was positive he recognized Tristram Stanton, it was probably only a glimpse. And if he had been wearing a hat as he came up the stairs—”
    â€œI see what you mean.” The sheriff shifted his boots, making the deck boards creak, while he thought about it. Then he objected, “But an imposter had to know the old servant well enough to call him by name.”
    â€œAnd know his way around the house,” Wiki agreed. “There’s also the