Page 36
Story: Lament at Loon Landing
Ellery nodded, reached for Jack, who wrapped his arms around him. “I don’t think she killed herself.”
Jack drew back, trying to read Ellery’s face. “Why would she kill herself? What are you even doing here?”
“She was threatening to kill herself. But…I don’t think that’s what happened.” Ellery dropped his forehead on Jack’s shoulder. “You’d think I’d be used to this by now.”
He felt Jack shake his head. “This isn’t something you get used to. It isn’t something youshouldget used to.” His arms tightened around Ellery for a moment, then he said briskly, “Wait in your car. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ellery nodded, folded back in the VW, watching as Jack disappeared around the back of the bungalow. He resumed his internal debate on whether to phone Dylan.
If their positions were reversed, he’d want to know as soon as possible. But this was not the first time he’d stumbled onto a crime scene. He knew how this worked. How it was supposed to work, anyway, and he knew Jack would not approve, might even interpret a phone call to Dylan the wrong way. So he sat still and silent, watching the beam of flashlights poking around the exterior of the house and then retreating inside to move with ominous deliberation behind the curtains and blinds.
Eventually, a black Infiniti Q60 pulled up behind Ellery’s car and the tall, well-built figure of Dr. Robert Mane got out. Rob, Medical Director and CEO of the Buck Island Med Center, operated as the island’s ME pro tempore when the official medical examiner in Providence couldn’t make it to an island crime scene in a timely manner.
Rob walked up to Ellery’s car, tapped on the VW’s window. Ellery rolled the window down.
“I don’t want to say this is starting to look suspicious…” Rob said.
“Yeah, please don’t say that.”
Rob made a sound of amusement, but said, “I thought you were going to give me a call this week?”
“Sorry. The past few days have been crazy.”
“Sure. I know. Sherlock Holmes had the same problem.” Robert’s fingers tapped out a fleetingtoodelooon the window, and he continued on his way, disappearing around the back of the bungalow.
The minutes ticked slowly by.
Eventually Jack came around the back of the cottage, ducked beneath the crime scene tape stretched across the driveway, and climbed into the VW.
Ellery said, “Is she—?”
“Yes.”
Jack gazed at Ellery in the gloom, and then asked the inevitable question, the question Ellery had been dreading. “What exactly were you doing here, Ell?”
“Dylan got a weird phone message from September. He was afraid she might harm herself, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to come himself.”
“So he sent you over here.” Jack’s tone was without inflection.
“Yes.”
Jack watched a Med Center ambulance back into the driveway. “Did you hear the message from September?”
Ellery’s, “Yes,” was more tentative than he’d intended.
“Yes?”
Ellery nodded.
Jack said quietly, “Ellery.”
Ellery said earnestly, “Jack, listen. Remember when I got that message from Brandon asking for help? But everyone else who heard it couldn’t make out what he was saying—”
Jack interjected, “You mean the message Brandon didn’t actually send?”
Funny how he still remembered that call as coming from Brandon. It took Ellery a moment to recover his thoughts. “But therewasa message. That’s my point.”
As usual Jack went straight to the heart of the matter. “Are you sure it was September you heard leaving that message? Could you—wouldyou swear to it in court?”
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