“Could have. I think we need to give Max’s study a thorough search to see if we can find anything. But first, let me ask you what you know about Victor Hall’s hunting accident.”
“Oh my. You don’t think that a ten-year-old accident has anything to do with this do you?” She placed her cup in the saucer and thought for just a moment. “All I remember is that Max, Victor, and Theodore had gone elk hunting, and had split up as they often did. Max came home earlier than usual quite shaken, wringing his hands. He told me that Victor had accidently shot himself dead. I found it extremely difficult to believe such disturbing news. That’s all I know, but I will say that Max and Theodore never spoke to one another again after that.”
“I think there is more to that story than we know, Greta. I wonder what Max actually saw. Perhaps he and Theodore witnessed somebody murdering Victor. Although I can’t for the life of me think what purpose it served. But then—stay with me for a minute—perhaps Max saw Theodore murdering Victor. I know it seems outlandish to think such a thing, but right after the incident, Theodore received a promotion to vice president of the bank, a position that I believe Victor had been considered for. Theodore gets awfully indignant every time the subject comes up. When he came to see you yesterday, how did he act? Did he say anything that seemed a bit unusual?”
“He told me he was so sorry about what happened to Max, and he offered to help me go through Max’s things, especially his papers. I did think that was a bit odd. But then the doorbell rang, and rather quickly he said he’d be going, but for me to call him when I needed him. That was you at the door, by the way. Maybe you saved me from something.”
“Let’s go into Max’s study and see what we can find, dear.”
The two went through Max’s desk, and found the bank statements neatly stored in the side drawer. There were no indications of any extra monies being deposited, which made them both wonder what Max had done with the cash he had taken from Oswald.
“Perhaps he had a separate account in Bayfield or some other nearby town. Or he’s been stashing it somewhere,” Agatha suggested.
One wall in the study was filled with books on the shelves that spanned the entire wall space. Agatha was reminded that Max always loved to read and to research a variety of things. A thought came to her when she remembered how much her former student enjoyed the encyclopedia.
“Let’s look at the ‘B’ volume of the encyclopedia. It would be just like Maximilian to hide something like a bank statement right there.”
Greta pulled the reference book from the shelf, turned it over to let the pages loosen, and to their surprise a number of bank statements floated to the floor. They were all from a bank in Bayfield under the name of Mike Jones. The balance line revealed a hefty figure of over eight thousand dollars. Two different deposits had been made each month. One for a hundred dollars and the other in the amount of a hundred and fifty dollars. Could this have been from Oswald and perhaps Theodore?
“There’s got to be more information in another place where no one would think to look other than you, Greta. Think. Where could that be?”
Beginning to shake, Greta had trouble focusing on anything at that moment. She felt completely helpless.
“What was his favorite book?” Agatha suggested.
“Why, that would be the dictionary.”
They took the big volume of words down from the shelf, and discovered another shock. The inside had been hollowed out and contained the following items: more clippings about the Sacramento bank robbery—one of which included a clearer photo of Babs Mahoney, photographs of Oswald Benson’s marijuana plants, and an envelope addressed to Greta.
The note inside was dated December 22, 1946, 10:30 P.M.
“Oh my, it’s dated the night of the Christmas program. The thought of an intruder going through his papers must have spooked him,” Agatha said, and then read it aloud:
Dear Greta,
if you have found this, it means that I am already dead and possibly murdered. I need to come clean about a few things. First, I lied about the Victor Hall hunting accident. I saw Theodore knock him out and shoot him in the head with his own rifle. He did it because he wanted the promotion that Victor was going to get as vice president of the bank. I’m certain that wasn’t the only reason he killed him. Selma and Victor had been getting a little too close, and I think Theodore knew it. I told him for$5,000 I would keep quiet and say it was an accident. He paid me monthly in increments of $200 until he paid it off. Recently, I told him I wanted more money and he just laughed in my face and said, “Over your dead body.”
I have also been blackmailing Oswald Benson because I found marijuana in his greenhouse—see photos. And I’ve been blackmailing a woman named Babs Mahoney—see the clippings. I was going to write a fiction book about the robbery in Sacramento until I saw her. I couldn’t believe it at first, but there she was.
I have kept a bank account specifically for the blackmail money in the name of Mike Jones at the First National Bank of Bayfield.
I’m sorry, Greta. You deserve better than me. I know you have been having an affair with Paul Miller. He’s a good man.
Max
Greta plopped down in Max’s chair at his desk and began to sob. “How could this be,” she wailed. “How could this be?”
Agatha placed an arm of comfort around the widow’s shoulders.
“We’ve got to call the sheriff, dear.”
Chapter Twenty-six
5:45 P.M. December 28, 1946
Agatha got back to her house later than planned. The girls were just starting to worry when she walked in, and waves of relief washed over them. They sat in the living room while she filled them in on all she and Greta had uncovered, telling them that Theodore was most likely being arrested at that very moment for the murder of Victor Hall, and as a possible suspect for the murders of Maximilian and Maggie May.
“Oh my, Nana, this is unbelievable,” Mazie cried. “But it’s all starting to make sense. Gertie remembered Maggie May’s poems she had been chanting the day before the mayor was murdered. She happened to be helping with some of the carnival preparations while Mrs. Schultz stood in front of the gazebo directing her imaginary orchestra. Here, I wrote it down for us,” Mazie passed the hand written page to Agatha who read it aloud:
“The mayor and the masquerader were meeting on the street
And then the masquerader stomped off on icy feet.
Fish, fish, fish, fish, there’s more than meets the eye
The fish aren’t the only things that people want to buy.
The past is the past, but it isn’t always gone
Especially for those involved—it keeps on going on.”
“Hmmm, the fish part of this poem has to refer to Oswald and his drug smuggling. I’m thinking that the part about the past must have to do with Theodore Olsen. But if that is true, then the whole poem must be based on incidents Maggie May witnessed. So who is the masquerader?” Agatha studied this for just a few minutes.
Agatha had brought home the newspaper clipping from Greta’s that had a clearer picture of Babs Mahoney. The three looked it over, but couldn’t find a resemblance to anyone they knew. “Max wrote in his letter he’s been blackmailing this Babs Mahoney, but she committed the robbery in Sacramento, California. He also said that he saw her, and couldn’t believe it. She must live here or somewhere nearby under a different name. One of the articles said she was good at disguising herself. Sandra Becker is from there and she dyes her hair red. She moved here not long after that robbery. I thought of her today, but she looks nothing like the photo of Babs. Plus, I can’t imagine that it could be her. Why would she tell everybody she’s from Sacramento if she’s trying to hide from the law? That wouldn’t make sense. Babs Mahoney has to be the masquerader, but how Maggie learned this, we’ll probably never know.”
“Nana, we nearly forgot. Gertie told us the scarf she complimented was on Elizabeth Smith’s neck, and that she usually wore
a navy blue one. From what she described it sounds just like the one you found at Maggie’s,” Samara said.
“Elizabeth is from Montana. She couldn’t be Babs Mahoney,” Mazie said.
“I don’t know. Let me see the picture again of Babs, Nana.” Samara the artist studied the face of the bank robber/murdereress. Then she made a sketch of the same face, but added glasses, straight mousy brown hair and a somber expression.
“Oh my goodness. It’s her! Elizabeth Smith is Babs Mahoney!” Mazie shrieked. “She’s the masquerader! But how did the mayor recognize her?”
Agatha knew the answer to that one. “Max had an eye for detail that far surpassed the average person. He should have been a detective instead of a mayor and a blackmailer. He would have been great at it. However, I must say I never would have picked out Elizabeth in a line up. She is so mousy, and so shy, and she blends in with the woodwork. Though, that’s probably how she’s been able to pull it off. No one noticed her when she stuck a needle full of poison into Max. Must have put it into his neck when she was walking up to the gazebo with the holly bush in her one hand. He probably thought the holly bush was pricking him. We’ve got to let the sheriff know right away.
“Oh criminey!” Agatha cried. “We’ve got to warn Gertie to lock her doors. Elizabeth, aka Babs, knows she saw her scarf. She may have seen me in the store this morning when Gertie blurted that out, and probably assumed I saw her scarf on the floor in Maggie’s kitchen. The Sacramento paper noted Babs Mahoney is a dangerous woman.” Agatha quickly telephoned Gertie and alerted her. Then she tried to get a hold of the sheriff and the deputy. Not able to reach either one, she left messages with their wives to call her immediately, that it was urgent.
“We need to call Dad, Nana. It isn’t safe for us right now,” Samara said.
Agatha agreed, so Mazie telephoned Alex, conveying all they had learned. After hanging up the receiver, Mazie said, “ Dad isn’t too happy with us, but he said he’d be here in a couple of minutes.”
The three sat in silence on the comfortable chairs as they each reflected on what they had uncovered. Their thoughts were interrupted when out of the kitchen emerged a woman who had become a stranger to them.
The formerly shy and mousy Elizabeth Smith had disappeared. Her eyes burned through them, and her twisted mouth and furrowed brow had turned Elizabeth into the evil and dangerous Babs Mahoney, who pointed a gun directly at them.
Chapter Twenty-seven
6:30 P.M. December 28, 1946
“Nobody move. You people really should consider locking your doors in this town. Anybody can walk in at any time. Now, I think you’ve had your noses into my business way too much,” Babs Mahoney continued to point the gun at them.
“I suppose this means you aren’t a war widow from Montana after all,” Agatha said in a firm voice that made it sound as if she had no fear of the woman, but in reality she was frightened out of her wits. She found it hard to believe how the plain, shy Elizabeth managed to portray the complete opposite of her true demeanor.
Babs, aka Elizabeth, spied the clippings on the coffee table.
“Well, looky here. The newspaper articles about the bank robbery. Oh, and the artist rendition of me! How clever you all are. I don’t know how you did this, or how you figured it all out. I’ve been watching you, all three of you, following you when I needed to. Even sent you that note, Mrs. Larsen, hoping it would scare you and make you stop investigating. I like this town. I like what I do. But you have made it impossible for me to continue living here.
“And that friend of yours, Maggie-- always in the middle of things, always where she shouldn’t have been. Chanting those poems that I knew had true meaning. My only mistake was leaving my scarf at her house. I locked the doors and took the keys so I could go back and make sure none of that stuff had been written down. Now, we are all going to go for a little ride. Think we’ll take that fancy car of yours, Mrs. Larsen.”
“Look, Eliz…I mean Babs, your secret will be safe with us. Why don’t you leave town now. You can even take my car. We won’t say a word. Just let us go.” Agatha knew she wouldn’t believe her, but she had to kill some time while she thought about how to get them out of this mess.
“Right. You won’t tell anybody. You probably already told your pathetic sheriff all about me, although I’m certain he wouldn’t know what to do with that information.”
Actually, the only thing Agatha hadn’t told James about was the bank robbery that Max had been so enamored with. It wouldn’t have made any sense to him, just like it hadn’t made any sense to her. What to do, what to do. And where is Alex? He should have been here by now.
“No more of this dilly dallying. Get your coats. We’re going to get into your car and drive out to the barrens. I think that will be a good place to drop the three of you off. No one will find you for a long time.”
Mazie, Samara and Agatha obeyed the woman with the gun, got their coats and headed toward the car. In spite of the terror they all felt, Agatha knew she had to think of a way to get them out of this thing safely. If only she could get the gun. How would Agatha Christie have written this? Oh criminey, she thought. This is one tough situation.
Standing next to the car, Agatha was about to give up when Alex ran from his house at the same time Sheriff James Lange and Deputy Jonathan King pulled in front of Agatha’s car, blocking them from being able to get away.
The sheriff and his deputy jumped out of their car, guns in hands. Babs grabbed Samara, pushing the gun at her head. Agatha, Alex, and Mazie froze.
“Drop your guns, gentlemen, or this girl is going bye-bye,” Babs laughed in their faces.
The two lawmen kept their guns pointing at her.
“Let the girl go Elizabeth,” James admonished her.
“Elizabeth? Well, well, looks like the old girl didn’t tell you about me after all.”
“No, but her son did, Babs. Now let the girl go. Nobody needs to get hurt. I’ve let the feds know you are here. They’re on their way. You aren’t going to be able to escape this time, madam.”
Babs Mahoney twisted her mouth maliciously. She had to think fast. “Look, I’m taking the girl with me. Move your car out of my way.”
Agatha spoke up, “Before you go, Babs, tell us how you killed the mayor in the middle of the crowd. We know you are very clever, so we’d all like to hear how you did it.”
Babs began to feel a surge of power and loosened her grip on Samara’s arm just a little at that moment. “It was a piece of cake, if you’ll pardon the expression. Most people in this town rarely noticed my presence, which of course was all part of the persona I created for myself. Anna Benson played right into my hands when I told her at the last minute we were going to need some more holly to decorate the gazebo. So she told Oswald, and I made sure Sandra and I would be helping him.
“The fact that the crowd was so dense worked well for my plan. I had the needle full of the cyanide I had stolen from Benson’s shed the night of the Christmas program. No one even noticed I had left the church. They just assumed I had gone downstairs to the fellowship hall to get the refreshments set up—something I had Sandra take care of.
“The crowd was especially thick when we walked past the mayor, so I jabbed him in the neck with the needle, using the holly as a camouflage. He was a bit startled, but I’m sure he never dreamed he would soon meet his demise. I suppose he thought the sharpness from the holly leaves pricked his neck. I got sick of his blackmailing. It cost me way too much money. Enough of this. Sheriff, move your car or I swear I’ll shoot this girl right here and now.”
Agatha had been slowly edging her way around Mazie who stood between her and Babs. Since she was more concerned about boasting how she had contrived the murder, Babs didn’t pay attention to Agatha’s movements. But her maneuver didn’t go unnoticed by the sheriff and his deputy, and they were prepared to make a move when the right moment would present itself.
Babs loosened her grip, w
aved the gun to the right indicating to Samara she had to step into the car. That’s the move Agatha had hoped and prayed for. She shifted her body quicker than the average sixty-six-year-old woman, stunning the bank-robbing-masquerader as she kicked her behind the knee, causing her to lose her balance. Then she punched Babs Mahoney in the stomach, knocked her to the ground, and snatched the gun out of her hand.
The sheriff and deputy were fast on the take, seized Babs and handcuffed her while Alex raced to the aid of his daughters and his mother.
Agatha breathed a sigh of relief. It was over at last.
Chapter Twenty-eight
8:00 P.M. December 28, 1946
“Whew!” Agatha said as she and her family sat in her living room recovering from the worst ordeal any of them had ever gone through in their entire lives. Erica had prepared some hot tea for each of them. “By the way Son, what took you so long to come to our aid after Mazie telephoned you?”
“It took me some time to hunt down James and Jonathan. Once I connected with them, I told them about Babs Mahoney and how I feared for your lives.” He stirred some sugar into his tea. “Mother, I warned you and warned you to stay out of this. And you two girls, too. Do you have any idea how close you all came to getting yourselves killed?”
“I know dear, but we are all just fine now, and we are the ones who solved everything. Oswald Benson is in jail for drug smuggling, Theodore Olsen is in jail for murdering Victor Hall ten years ago, and Babs Mahoney is now in the custody of the feds for armed robbery and murder. The sheriff couldn’t have done it without us. He even told us that. I’d say we did alright girls, don’t you know!”
“It wasn’t so much fun having that gun poking at my head,” Samara said. “Plus she had a grip on my arm, that even through the heaviness of my coat I’m sure there will be a bruise. But I have to admit it feels pretty good to know how we helped to bring some justice into our town.”
“Well I was scared at different times, I will admit, but overall, I think I’d like to change careers and become a detective instead of being a nurse,” Mazie said, surprising her family, because all she had ever wanted to be her whole life was a nurse. “And, Nana, you are the true heroine in this whole incident. I couldn’t believe it when you went for Babs Mahoney. So proud of you, I am.”