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“Something we’ve overlooked?”
“I don’t know, I think we’ll just see how things are when we confront them all. I have a feeling we still don’t have the whole story.”
As they talked, a car pulled up the long driveway and John Longcore and his sister Betsy got out.
“Just who I wanted to see,” John said, giving first Leslie and then Robin big hugs. “Thank you for saving my sister.”
“It’s always easier to save the innocent,” Leslie told him with a smile. She gave Betsy a warm kiss on the cheek.
John reached into his pocket and pulled out a check that he handed to Leslie.
“Very nice, thank you,” Leslie said. She looked at it, then handed it to her partner.
Robin pocketed it without seeing the amount.
“Listen Betz, I’ve got to go,” John said, turning to his sister, “we’ll have dinner tonight, okay?”
“Sure.”
“You going to be all right?”
“I think so,” she replied, looking up at the old house. “I have my things to pack, then I’ll take a taxi to the cemetery and give Felicia my last kiss.” There was a sad look on her face.
Robin looked at the small woman trying to imagine her with Felicia. For all the sexual partners that Felicia had, Betsy seemed the oddest. She wasn’t the kind of woman that Felicia was usually attracted to. Not that there was any particular type, Felicia’s tastes were obviously broad and wide. But Betsy seemed too conventional for Felicia’s lifestyle. Maybe there was a siren under all that quiet and composure. She had a lusty reputation, but even so, Betsy seemed too sensible to be attached to anything as bizarre as Felicia Roman. Where would she go now? That was a mystery as interesting as the case.
“Don’t worry, sis, we’ll find a place for you,” John assured her. “I think there’s an apartment near mine that’s available. I’ll do some calling this afternoon.”
“Thanks,” she said with a tentative smile. John gave his sister a hug and then climbed into the car and drove away.
“Good morning ladies,” Leslie said, entering Felicia Roman’s study to see Martha, Remy and Jane sitting in an awkward, though relieved silence.
Robin and Betsy followed Leslie into the room.
“Oh, Betsy,” Remy raced toward the pale but smiling woman. The two hugged warmly at Remy’s insistence, though for Betsy the display was forced.
“This has been all my fault,” Remy began. “I’ve been over and over it in my mind, I should have known, please can you forgive me?” She was in tears again, just as she’d been in tears for nearly the entire twenty-four hours since Zelda’s unveiling.
Betsy stroked the distraught woman’s mop of hair, because she really had no other choice, even though the gesture seemed unnatural.
“Remy, leave Betsy alone for awhile, she needs a little space,” Martha chimed in.
“Oops, I’m sorry,” Remy said and she pulled away. The woman fidgeted nervously with the cotton handkerchief in her hand, wringing it, pulling it through her fist.
“Eve was a cunning imposter, it was a confused time for you back then Remy. How would you have known?” Leslie said, as the whole room watched the anxious Remy return to her place beside Martha on the sofa.
Betsy sat down in the high backed chair that had always been Felicia’s. She didn’t look like the grand dame, she wasn’t even trying to; it was simply pleasant to sink herself into something familiar. She smiled at the others, feeling as if she would prefer being there alone, not with five women eyeing her.
“We’ve checked things at Brightwood,” Leslie said, jumping into the uncomfortable silence. “Eve Delisle escaped from Brightwood, just at the time that Zelda Wing left her employment there. Apparently she stalked Zelda, killed her, maimed the body beyond recognition, dumped it, and then assumed Zelda’s identity, which she’s maintained now for at least four years. Before Brightwood she murdered two other women. She moved on to Felicia because Felicia was so notorious. The S&M was pretty bogus… for the benefit of Felicia’s personal kink. Then the attempt to kill Martha in the same way, knowing how Martha would fall into her trap. We don’t know what set her off this time. One thing for certain. She’s smart, clever and extraordinarily ruthless. She had an uncanny way of covering her tracks for a woman so mentally disturbed. Of course it helped that she bore a strong resemblance to the real Zelda.”
“Where is she now?” Martha asked.
“There will likely not be a trial, but that will take months to decide. She’ll probably be locked up in a hospital for the criminally insane. When she was taken into custody yesterday, she’d regained some of her composure, but her mind was all over the place. Her gross failure with Martha didn’t sit well with her fragile psyche.”
“Oh my, I should have known,” Remy said, with tears still falling from her eyes. Though she sat next to Martha she seemed to cringe when her lover surrounded her with a comforting arm. She shook the woman off. “It was strange how she wrote to me out of the blue a year ago. I thought it was a good idea for me, reacquainting myself with someone from Brightwood, that it might help me understand the past, help me heal even more.” She looked up at Leslie and Robin with an imploring look. “She was so gentle and reassuring, reminding me of private things we shared during that time. I wonder how Eve knew.”
“She was in possession o
f Zelda’s diaries which were rather detailed regarding every aspect of Zelda Wing’s life. She really hit on a gold mine, choosing to take the woman’s identity. It was all spelled out in clear terms. All she needed was a little hair dye and the right hair cut,” Leslie said.
