Remember Me

  “1 agree. A panoramic aerial photo can be a real selling tool, but just on its own, this one is wonderful.”

  “At the department we sometimes need aerial work done. Do you use someone around here?”

  “Yes, Walter Orr from Orleans.”

  Nat continued to study the print. It was the same version that Marge had put in the window three days ago. Nat said, “Am I wrong, or when the picture was in the window did it have a boat in it?”

  “The negative got damaged,” Elaine said quickly. “I had to do some patching.”

  He noticed her heightened color. And why are you so nervous? he wondered.

  “What do I owe you?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I do my own developing.”

  “That’s very nice of you. Miss Atkins.”

  91

  Tuesday was not an easy day for Fred Hendin. Knowing that he was about to give up Tina for good was an assault on his senses. He was thirty-eight now and had dated a number of girls over the years. At least half of them would probably have married him.

  Fred knew that by some standards he was a good catch. He was a hard worker who made a comfortable living. He had been a devoted son and he would be a devoted husband and father. People would have been surprised to know exactly how robust his bank account was, although he had always had the feeling Tina could sense it.

  Right now if he called up Jean or Lillian or Marcia, he knew he would have a dinner date tonight.

  The trouble was that he had genuinely fallen in love with Tina. He had always known she could be moody and demanding, but when he went out with her on his arm, he felt like a king. And she could be lots of fun.

  He had to get her out of his mind. All day he was distracted, thinking about her and about having to give her up. The boss had even called him on it a couple of times. “Hey, Fred, stop daydreaming. We’ve got a job to finish.”

  He looked again at the house across the road; somehow it didn’t have the same appeal today. Oh, sure, he probably would buy it, but it wouldn’t be the same. He had imagined Tina in it with him.

  But a man had his dignity, his pride. He had to end it with Tina. The papers today were filled with the details of the inquest. Nothing had been left out: the condition of Vivian’s right hand; the missing emerald ring; Tina’s visits to Covey in Florida. Fred had winced to find his own name mentioned as Tina’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, and now fiancé. The account made him look like a fool.

  Yes, he had to end it. Tomorrow, when he drove her to the airport, he would tell her. But one thing concerned him. It would be just like Tina to refuse to give his mother’s jewelry back to him.

  * * *

  At six o’clock when he got to Tina’s and found that as usual she wasn’t ready, he had turned on the television and then opened the jewelry box.

  His mother’s pearls and watch and pin were there, as well as the engagement ring he had just given Tina. It had served her purpose, and she probably couldn’t wait to get it off her finger, he thought. He put the pieces in his pocket.

  And then he stared. Buried underneath Tina’s inexpensive chains and bracelets, he glimpsed a ring. It was a large green stone with a diamond on each side, mounted in platinum.

  He picked it up and studied it. Even a fool would have recognized the clarity and depth of that emerald. Fred knew he was holding the family ring that had been ripped from Vivian Carpenter’s finger.

  * * *

  When Menley arrived home from visiting the Tobias Knight house, Amy was sitting on the steps. “You must have thought I’d forgotten about you,” Menley said apologetically.

  “I knew you didn’t.” Amy unbuckled Hannah from the car seat.

  “Amy, yesterday I overheard you talking to my husband about the tape of Bobby. Tell me about that.”

  Reluctantly Amy recounted how she happened to have it.

  “Where is it now?”

  “Home. I took it from Elaine’s house last night when I borrowed more movie tapes. I was going to give it to Mr. Nichols when he gets back Thursday.”

  “Give it to me in the morning.”

  “Of course.”

  92

  On the day after the inquest, Graham and Anne Carpenter decided to go on a cruise. “We need to get away,” Graham decreed.

  Anne, deeply depressed by recent events, agreed listlessly. Their other two daughters had come out for the hearing, and Emily, the older one, said bluntly, “Mother, you must stop blaming yourself. In her own way poor Vivy loved you and Dad very much, and I don’t think she’d want to see you like this. Go on a trip. Get away from all this. Have a great time with Daddy, and you two take care of each other.”

  Tuesday evening, after Emily and Barbara and their husbands left, Anne and Graham sat out on the front porch, making plans for the trip. Anne’s voice was brighter, and she laughed as they recalled some of the other cruises they had taken.

  Graham had to put in words the way he felt: “It hasn’t been pleasant for either of us to be depicted as horrible parents in the tabloids, and I’m sure they’ll have a field day describing the inquest. But we did what we had to do, and I think that somewhere Vivian knows we tried to secure justice for her.”

  “And I pray she also knows we can do no more.”

  “Oh, look, there’s Pres Crenshaw with Brutus.”

  They watched as their elderly neighbor walked slowly down the road past their gate, his German shepherd on a leash.

  “Set your watch,” Graham said. “Ten o’clock on the dot.”

  A moment later, a car drove past the gate. “Pres should be careful, that road is dark,” Anne said.

  They turned and went into the house.

  93

  Menley invited Amy to stay for dinner. She sensed something forlorn about the young girl. “I’m just making a salad and linguine with clam sauce,” she explained, “but you’re welcome to share it.”

  “I’d love to.”

  She really is a nice kid, Menley thought, and actually she’s not that much of a kid. She’s almost eighteen and has a quiet poise that really is attractive. Plus she is more responsible than most adults. But she sure doesn’t like the idea of her father marrying Elaine.

  That was a subject Menley had no intention of bringing up, however. What she did introduce was Amy’s preparations for college.

  Discussing her plans, Amy became animated. “I’ve talked on the phone to my roommate. She sounds nice. We’ve decided on spreads and curtains. Her mother will help her buy them, and I’ll pay my share.”

  “What have you done about clothes?”

  “Elaine said she’ll drive to Boston someday and we’ll have a—wait, how does she put it—a ‘fun girl day together.’ Isn’t that awful?”

  “Amy, don’t fight her,” Menley said. “She’s going to marry your father.”

  “Why? She certainly doesn’t love him.”

  “Of course she does.”

  “Menley, I mean Mrs. Nichols, my father is a very boring man.”

  “Amy!” Menley protested.

  “No, I mean it. He’s nice and kind and good and successful but that’s not what we’re talking about. Elaine doesn’t love him. He gives her corny gifts, at least he gives them in a corny way, and she puts on the big act. She’s going to make him miserable and she knows that I know it and that’s why she can’t stand me.”

  “Amy, I hope Hannah doesn’t talk about her father like that someday,” Menley said, shaking her head even as she acknowledged that Amy was right on target.

  “Are you kidding? Mr. Nichols is the kind of guy women want. And if you want to know something, the list starts with Elaine.”

  * * *

  When Amy left, Menley walked through the house, locking up. She turned on the local weather channel and learned that a storm was brewing that would hit the Cape tomorrow in the late afternoon or early evening. I had better make sure we have a flashlight and candles just in case, she thought.

  The phone rang as she was settl
ing at her desk in the library. It was Jan Paley.

  “I missed you yesterday when you were at Scott Covey’s house,” Jan said. “I wanted you to know that Phoebe was talking about Tobias Knight again. Menley, I think you’re right. She is trying to tell us something about him.”

  “I stopped by his Eastham house today after I dropped Adam off,” Menley said. “The receptionist showed me his picture. Jan, Tobias looked like a sneak and a dandy. I can’t imagine why Mehitabel ever would have bothered with him. Another interesting point is that, according to the dates we have, she was already at least three months pregnant with Andrew Freeman’s child when she was denounced.”

  She paused. “I guess I’m really thinking aloud. I’ve had two pregnancies, and the last thing in the world that would have intrigued me during the first three months of either one of them is to become involved in a love affair.”

  “Then what are you thinking?” Jan asked.

  “Tobias Knight was a mooncusser. He was being questioned by the Crown about the cargo of the Thankful around the time he was seen visiting Mehitabel at unseemly hours. Suppose he wasn’t visiting her? Suppose she never knew he was around? If he hadn’t confessed to carrying on with Mehitabel, they’d have looked for another reason for him to be here. Suppose he hid some of the Thankful cargo on these grounds, or even in this house?”

  “Oh, I don’t think in the house,” Jan protested.

  “The dimensions of the first-floor rooms here are smaller than in the Eastham place. But from the outside the house is the same size. I’m going to poke around a bit.”

  “I don’t think it will do you much good. If there ever was a storage area, it’s probably been boarded up for the last two hundred years. But it is possible that one did exist at some time.”

  “Did anyone ever suggest that this house might have had a hidden room?”

  “Not to me. And the last contractor did an awful lot of work. He’s Nick Bean, from Orleans.”

  “Do you mind if I talk to him tomorrow?”

  “Of course not. And feel free to poke around. Good night, Menley.”

  When she replaced the receiver, Menley leaned back in the chair and studied the drawings of Mehitabel and Andrew. On the ship they had looked so happy together.

  Mehitabel had died swearing her innocence, and a week later Andrew had set sail into an oncoming storm, frantic to bring his baby back and crying out his love for his wife. Was it possible that he had been convinced of Mehitabel’s innocence and been driven out of his mind with regret?

  Every instinct told Menley that she was on the right track.

  She settled back at the desk but now was not interested in going through the files. Something Amy had said at dinner had to be faced. Elaine might be engaged to another man, but she was in love with Adam. I sensed it that night at dinner, Menley thought. Elaine didn’t forget she had that tape. She deliberately withheld it, knowing that it was irreplaceable to us. What use was it to her except to be able to look at Adam?

  Or did she find another use for it?

  At ten o’clock she went upstairs, changed into a nightgown and robe, and phoned Adam at the apartment in New York.

  “I was just about to call you to say good night,” he said. “How are my girls?”

  “We’re fine.” Menley hesitated but knew she had to ask the question that was on her mind. “Amy stayed for dinner, and she made an interesting observation. She thinks Elaine is in love with you, and I have to say I agree with her.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Adam, please understand that after Bobby died, I wasn’t much of a wife to you for a year. Last summer I asked you for a separation, and we’d probably be divorced right now if I hadn’t learned I was pregnant with Hannah. You got pretty close to Elaine in that time we were apart, didn’t you?”

  “It depends on what you call close. We’ve always been there for each other since we were kids.”

  “Adam, forget the buddy routine. Haven’t you pulled that on her before? You said she was a rock when your father died. And over the years when you didn’t have another serious girlfriend, you’d call her up. Wasn’t that the pattern?”

  “Menley, you can’t think that I was involved with Elaine last year.”

  “Are you involved with her now?”

  “My God, Menley, no!”

  “I had to ask. Good night, Adam.”

  Adam heard the click in his ear. When he got to the apartment he had realized what had been bugging him. One day last winter when Menley was out, he had watched the tape of Bobby. It was where he had left it, in his desk drawer. He had brought it home last summer. Why did Elaine make a copy of it and not tell him about it?

  94

  On Wednesday morning, Nat brought his second cup of coffee into the family room and studied the two pictures of Remember House. He had painstakingly removed the mangled one from the frame, and now it was propped up on the mantel next to the copy Elaine had given him.

  The destruction of the print he had taken from Scott Covey’s garbage was even more apparent now that the picture was out of the frame. It looked as though the crisscross tears might have been made by a sharp knife or even a wedge of broken glass. There was a gaping hole where the boat had been.

  The other print showed a faint smudge where the boat had been, as though Elaine had attempted to retouch the negative, but hadn’t completed the job.

  “Bye, Dad.”

  Nat’s two sons, Kevin and Danny, sixteen and eighteen years old, stood in the doorway, grinning at him. “If you’re trying to decide which one to buy, Dad, I’d vote for the one on the right,” Kevin said.

  “Someone sure didn’t like the other one,” Danny commented.

  “I agree,” Nat said. “The question is why didn’t he like it? See you tonight, guys.”

  Debbie came in a few minutes later. “Still haven’t figured it out?” she asked.

  “Nothing makes sense. First of all, I can’t believe that Elaine Atkins honestly thought that Scott Covey was in the market for that property. Then when he was clearing out, why didn’t he just leave it in the house? Why go to all the trouble of smashing it and cutting out the boat? And why did Elaine blank out the boat in the copy? There has to be a reason.”

  Debbie picked up the torn photograph and turned it over. “Maybe you should talk to whoever took the picture. Look, his name is stamped on the back. Walter Orr. His phone number and address are here too.”

  “I know his name,” Nat said. “Elaine gave it to me.”

  Debbie turned the pictures over again and smoothed the curling edges. “Look. The date and time this was taken is here on the bottom.” She looked at the other picture. “It’s not on the copy Elaine gave you.”

  Nat looked at the date. “July 15th at 3:30 P.M.!” he exclaimed.

  “Is there anything significant about that date?”

  “You bet there is,” Nat said. “July 15th was the day Vivian Carpenter was drowned. Covey phoned the coastguard at 4:30 that afternoon.” In two strides he was over to the phone.

  A look of disappointment came over Nat’s face as he listened to a recorded message. Then he gave his name and the phone number of the police station and finished by saying, “Mr. Orr, it is imperative I speak to you immediately.”

  When he hung up, he said, “Orr is on a job and will be back at four o’clock. So this will have to hold until then. But Deb, I just realized, when Marge offered us this copy, she said Elaine had the negative. And she’s obviously already altered that. So if there is something to this, we may never find out what it is. Damn!”

  95

  There was a restless feeling in the air when Menley awakened at seven o’clock on Wednesday morning. The breeze was damp, and the room still shadowed. The light that penetrated around the shades was subdued, and no rays of sun danced on the windowsills.

  She had slept well. Even though Hannah’s room was close by and she had left both doors open, she had kept the baby monitor on the n
ight table next to her. At two she had heard the baby stirring and checked her, but Hannah didn’t wake up.

  And no dreams, no flashbacks, thank God, Menley thought as she reached for a robe. She walked to the windows that overlooked the water and pulled up the shades. The ocean was gray, the waves still mild as they lapped at the shore. Thin sunlight peered around the heavy clouds that drifted over the water.

  Ocean and sky and sand and space, she thought. This wonderful house, this special view. She was enjoying getting used to all this space. After her father died, her mother had given her brother the smaller bedroom to himself and moved Menley’s twin bed into her room. When Jack went to college it was Menley’s turn to get a room of her own, and thereafter when Jack was home, he slept on the pullout couch in the living room.

  I remember how when I was little, I used to draw pictures of pretty houses with pretty rooms, Menley thought as she looked out over the ocean. But I never visualized a home like this, a location like this. Maybe that’s why the house Adam and I had in Rye never got to me the way this one does.

  Remember House would be a home of the heart, she thought. I can see coming up here for Thanksgiving and Christmas and the kind of summers Adam experienced growing up, and for long weekends in other seasons. That’s a perfect balance to all the plusses of living in Manhattan, with Adam’s office minutes away.

  What had been Mehitabel’s plans for her life? she wondered. Many wives of sea captains sailed with their husbands all over the world and brought their young children with them. Mehitabel had sailed with Andrew after they were married. Before everything went wrong, had she been looking forward to other trips?

  It would make sense if Tobias Knight did build some sort of storage area on the grounds or in the house and that was why he had been seen around here. I’m going to write the story that way, she decided.

  Why do I feel so strongly about her this morning? she wondered. And then she understood the reason. On the third Wednesday in August all those years ago, Mehitabel was condemned as an adulteress, flogged and returned here to find her husband had taken her baby away. Today was the third Wednesday in August.