Take Stock in Murder (9 page)

“Don’t worry. We can handle Mrs. Breckenridge. I’ll just tell her we decided on the other condo. Buying the competitor’s product is the quickest way to quiet a salesperson,” Tom said.

“Should the police contact you, simply tell the truth. You and your wife went to see the condos. You knew the Barrington name but weren’t aware that Todd had been murdered until the police told Mrs. Breckenridge.”

It was obvious that Tom and Jenny felt they had finished their adventure for the day, and there really was nothing more they could do for Charles and Carrie. They said good-bye, with a promise that they were available should they be needed for
other adventures. The Picketts had no sooner left than their faithful waiter appeared.

“Here’s your check.” He was doing the final total.

“Hold on, young man,” Charles said. “We’re not finished.”

“You want something else?” he asked in astonishment. Most people were unable to eat anything additional after a Harrells burger.

“Yes, we’ll take two apple pies with cheddar cheese, two coffees, and then the check.” Charles smiled and handed him five twenties.

“Your bill is only sixty-four dollars, sir.”

“I’m aware of that. But this will cover the pie and coffee, and the rest is for you, with one catch: you bring us the pie and coffee, and you don’t appear at our table again. My wife and I want to be alone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you, sir.” He smiled and went off to get their order.

After the pie and coffee arrived, Carrie moved to the other side of the booth to sit next to Charles. She carefully unfolded the paper she’d removed from Todd’s program manual.

“OK, let’s see what we have,” Charles said. “We’ve fourteen sets of numbers and letters. We’ve three columns of letters broken by numbers. What do you think?”

“It could be a registration number, a policy number, or even a license number. It could be almost anything.”

“OK, let’s do the reverse. Let’s figure out what the numbers can’t be.” Charles took out his notebook.

“Sounds like a good idea. It isn’t a phone number.”

“Agreed, and it doesn’t appear to be an address unless it’s also in code.”

“It’s not a series of dates. It’s doesn’t appear to be a code for the alphabet, so it’s not a…” Carrie stopped midsentence.

“What’s the matter?”

“It might be a name. The three letters could represent someone’s initials.”

“Very clever. These could easily be initials.”

“With Todd working for his family’s business, we should think financial. What would be financial? Could it be something to do with dollars and cents, money, the green stuff?”

Charles grabbed her arm, then gave her a big kiss. “I think you have it, my little mystery sleuth.”

“What do I have? Although whatever it is, I’ll have another kiss.” Charles readily obliged.

“The letters do represent someone’s initials. The numbers after the first letter could be an account number. See how the numbers are similar, even though they’re all different?”

“It would be easy enough to find out if this matched the account number sequence from the company. Charles, do you think it’s possible that this last set of numbers represents dollars?” She was adding using her fingers. “If you assume the numbers are in thousands, we’re talking about quite a lot of money. It would have been quite a sum for young Mr. Todd to handle.”

“Well, at least that sum would help to explain Todd’s city condo. However, all we have is a supposition.” Charles saw Carrie looked somewhat disappointed. “However, it’s a great supposition, and I’ll bet anything you’re right on the money.
We just need to go the next step and figure out what the money represents.”

“I’m not sure about the money, but the initials make sense.” Carrie took Charles’s notebook and began to fill in names against the initials. She listed five very quickly. “I can spot five matches without too much effort: Delores Chaney, Judy Marshall, Pat Sloane, Terry Conan, and Marilyn Armstrong.”

“Wow, sort of a who’s who of the lady members of the Tri-County Country Club.”

“I wonder what these sweet Club women were doing with Todd Barrington.”

arrie finished as much of her work as she could for a morning when she wasn’t concentrating on her writing. In fact, she spent most of the morning petting Baxter, who liked to sit on a pillow right next to her computer monitor. Every time she expressed a new thought about the murder, she would say it out loud to Baxter. So far none of her thoughts had impressed him. He would lift his head while she was explaining her thought, but the minute she was finished, he would flop his head back down and close his eyes.

It was more than a week since Todd’s murder. Charles had gone to his office. He said he needed to clear up some paperwork for the upcoming issue of the
Tri-County Monthly
. However, Carrie knew he really wanted to get things in order in case he was arrested. Charles was convinced the detectives had him as their number one suspect.

She’d been working hard since 7:30 a.m. on an article for the
Tri-County Monthly
magazine. Although she’d supported
herself for years as a freelance writer and photographer, everyone now assumed that when she got an article published in one of the family publications, it was because of Charles.

Who said a writer’s life was easy?
she thought. She looked at her watch; it was now 9:30 a.m. She decided to go ahead and make the call.

“Hello,” the voice answered slowly and sleepily.

“Marilyn, hi. It’s Carrie Faraday. I haven’t called too early, have I?” Carrie felt intimidated by members of the ladies’ committee at the Club. Her voice sounded like that of a little girl who was about to be scolded for doing something wrong.

“No, no, I’m awake now.” Carrie was sure she heard a muffled yawn. “Frank and I were out somewhat late last night playing cards. Then I got up early with Frank to drive him to the airport for a flight to Chicago. He’ll be fine because he can sleep on the plane, but I decided I needed to go back to bed.” Carrie thought this last statement was made through a stretch, which sounded through the phone. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still asleep. Who is this?”

“Oh, Marilyn, I’m sorry to call so early. This is Carrie Faraday, but I wanted to catch you before you went out for the day.”

Marilyn’s husband, Frank Armstrong, was senior partner in one of the largest law firms in the city, and Marilyn had worked as his paralegal when the firm was first getting under way. As the firm and the children grew, Marilyn was no longer needed at the office. For the last ten years she’d spent hours working with the local PTA and various charities, but now devoted most of her free time to committees, events, and affairs of the Club.

“Carrie, how delightful. I wanted to say hello to you at the dance, but after the dancing started, I didn’t see you again. How are you?”

“I’m fine. In fact, I’m feeling terrific.”

“Are you still working? Although I guess with your profession, work is when you want it.”

Carrie bit her lip. Like many people, Marilyn assumed that because Carrie didn’t leave her house and commute to a job, she wasn’t really working. “Yes, I’m still writing at home.” She tried to sound pleasant.

“Well, Frank and I’ve never understood why you spend so much time working when Charles is one of the wealthiest men in the county. County?” She laughed. “Oh, hell, he’s one of the wealthiest men in the state.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Charles and I’ve been talking about my cutting back a little. After all, as you say, we don’t need the money.” Carrie decided to go right to the reason for her call. “I called you for some information about the ladies’ activities at the Club.”

“That’s wonderful, Carrie dear. How can I help you?” Marilyn was fully awake now. Carrie could see her sitting up in bed, straightening her silk gown, and brushing her dyed blond hair away from her face.

“One of the reasons I haven’t stopped working…” Carrie deliberately let the sentence hang.

“Yes, dear, go on. You and Charles aren’t having problems, are you?” Carrie didn’t like the gleeful way the question popped from Marilyn.

“Oh no, our marriage is as wonderful as ever.”

“I’m so glad.” Marilyn said the right words but sounded disappointed there would be no gossip to spread.

“I’m afraid if I stop working, I’ll be bored. I’d have nothing to fill my days. That’s why I’m calling you. I was hoping you would let me play golf with you one day or perhaps suggest some other activities I might get involved with at TC3.” Carrie’s voice sounded just a little desperate.

“Oh, Carrie, of course you can play golf with me…And I’m sure the rest of the group will be delighted to have you join us.”

“Us? You play in a group?” Carrie really wanted to talk to Marilyn alone. “Marilyn, if you already have a group, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Carrie, I can’t believe you don’t know I head the ladies’ golf division at the Club. You really do need to get more in touch with Club activities. Surely you know we have a women’s tournament group.”

“I didn’t know about the group, but I knew you would be the right person to call.”

“That’s a very nice compliment, and you must join us,” Marilyn said with authority.

“I’m not sure about a ladies’ tournament group, though. I’m afraid my golf game isn’t very good.”

“Oh, posh. None of us was any good when we started out. We simply give new players a bigger handicap. Besides, your game will improve faster playing with us. Some of the gals have really gotten quite good,” Marilyn said enthusiastically.

“Well, I’d like to try, if the ladies don’t mind letting me play. Are there other activities?”

“Of course there are. We do a great deal more than play golf.” Marilyn sounded annoyed but recovered nicely, realizing Carrie was naive about these important activities. “We help organize the social events at TC3, we do all kinds of charity work through the Club for the community, and we’ve a stronger voice in the operation of the Club through our action committees than women had in the past.”

Marilyn’s last comment referred to the days at the Country Club when women had had no role in the management of Club affairs and even had limited times of day when they were allowed to be on the golf greens.

“I had no idea. It all sounds very admirable,” Carrie said

“You mentioned not wanting to be bored. In addition, we’ve activities that are informative. There are lectures, political and educational, the Book Club, the Culture Exchange Committee, the Travel Club, and then our latest entry, the Investment Club.”

“The Investment Club? What’s that?”

“I discovered that many of the Club ladies knew very little about finances. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Most of us handle our household checking accounts and pay the day-to-day bills. But it’s assumed women don’t understand the more complicated financial transactions. In reality, once we’re educated, we understand just fine. In fact, we seem to do quite well.”

“By ‘complicated,’ you mean financial transactions like investing in stocks and bonds?”

“Yes, stocks, bonds, mutual funds, and even international trades. We wanted to learn more about these items and managing an actual portfolio of investments. And it’s been proven
time and time again that women have good instincts.” Marilyn was talking excitedly.

“Marilyn, you’ve piqued my interest. This Investment Club really does sound exciting.”

“We started out with a series of lectures and workshops. Then we started our own Investment Club.”

“You actually invest money?”

“Of course we do. Once we felt comfortable with the process, investing money was the next step. We meet every two weeks, review our portfolios, and then decide what to keep, sell, and buy.”

“Marilyn, would you be willing to let me join the Investment Club?”

“Yes, I don’t believe the ladies would mind, but…” Marilyn hesitated.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put pressure on you. Do you need to discuss my joining with the other ladies first?”

“Oh, no. I’m sure everyone would be delighted with you joining. It’s just that the Investment Club was under the guidance of Todd Barrington. With his death, there may be some changes.” Marilyn was thinking aloud. There was a clicking sound on the phone. “Hold on, dear. Someone else is trying to get through.”