“May I see the list you’ve compiled?” Connery asked Lois, his subtlety masking his more aggressive nature.
“Of course,” she said, handing him the paper.
Taking the list and reading the names, he tipped it so that Detective Slye was able to see it, too. “Cameron Dmytryk, Elaine Kostas, and Tasia McAvoy. Betty Rhoades…?” Connery paused, glancing up from the sheet and staring at Lois.
“That’s me,” Betty said, wiping her nose. “I’m the head housekeeper. Been here for almost thirty years. I cleaned for Mr. Kastenmeier’s mother.”
The detective nodded and then looked at the list again. “Sam Giles is the stable keeper. Chloe Brice…?” He looked at Lois for help.
“She also works as a maid, but only during the summer. We open up our summer house at that time, and we need the extra help. Chloe’s a full-time student at The University of Wisconsin in Madison. Chemistry is her subject, and she’s a senior this year. Her family lives here in Michigan.”
“And Heather Trumble?”
“Heather’s a maid as well, but she goes home most weekends.” Lois paused. “She isn’t very bright.”
“How long has she worked here?”
“Ten years.”
“What time did she leave for home?”
“Right after her shift, around three o’clock. As usual, her mother picked her up.”
Nodding, he checked the paper again. “And Zach Cutteridge?”
Lois didn’t answer right away. When she did, she explained, “Zach used to be the groundskeeper here. He was also kind enough to paint the fresco on the ceiling above us.”
Connery looked up, admiring Zach’s handiwork around the large, polychromed ceiling medallion in the center of the room, and the converted gasolier hanging from it. “A fresco, huh? That’s the medium Michelangelo used to paint the Sistine Chapel.”
“You’re right. It takes a very talented man to paint well by that method.” She raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “Zach is no Michelangelo, but he is quite accomplished, especially for his age.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Connery said, studying the masterful scene of Jesus comforting Mary Magdalene. Mary looked an awful lot like Tasia, as Detective Connery would soon come to realize. He stepped between clusters of chairs as he analyzed the figures in the scene above. “Zach Cutteridge did this,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
“Yes, he did. I interviewed fifty-three artists from here and abroad for the job, but I chose him. Every piece of artwork on the walls and ceilings of this house is attributed to him. You’ve already had the pleasure of seeing the estate lawns. The deftness exhibited there is his work as well. So you can imagine how disconcerted I was when my husband fired him.”
“Your husband fired him? Why?”
“Carl didn’t want Zachary around anymore. You see, Zach got a little too interested in Tasia, and my husband didn’t approve.” She hesitated. “Carl wasn’t willing to share anything except his own affections. With no regard for my feelings, Zach was dismissed before the fresco in the hall had been completed.” Lois looked hurt by that, almost reduced to tears. “Can you imagine?”
Connery showed little compassion for her situation. “No, I can’t even begin to imagine being upset over something like that. I’d also like a list of your husband’s business associates.”
“Well, that’s a short list, if you only count the people he trusted.”
“Let’s start with those.”
“That would be Nicolette Howard, Marlon McGhee, and Alex Gordetsky.”
“Please jot down their names, addresses, and phone numbers, please,” he said, giving her the tablet back.
Lifting his head, Connery gave each person in the room another good look. The longcase clock in the distance played a full verse of taps and then chimed once. After scrutinizing the last person, Connery said, “Does anybody know why Mr. Kastenmeier had thread tied around his right hand?”
The thread was difficult to talk about; Elaine had only been there for five months, and even she had trouble describing its significance. Thank goodness Lois finally spoke up and allowed everyone else to forgo the dubious task of verbalizing the shame of it.
“It’s a punishment, you see,” she said, and both detectives stared at her for a moment. They were obviously puzzled, and understandably so. A statement like that deserved more of an explanation.