“And then there is also the matter of vengeance, which, to be truthful, is something I had always hoped not to feel the need for, but in this case I might make an exception.”

“Vengeance?”

“If Matthias Wade strangled Nancy Denton, if Matthias Wade cut Michael Webster’s head off and then burned his body in his own home, then I will start lining up early just to see him sentenced, Sheriff Gaines.”

“You’ll be in line right after me, Maryanne,” Gaines said.

Maryanne Benedict looked at Eddie Holland, nodded in acknowledgment of his silent and reassuring presence, and then looked back at Gaines.

“So tell me what you have in mind,” she said, leaning forward.

51

“There is something just so desperately sad about this,” Maryanne Benedict said when she looked up from reading Clifton Regis’s letter. “How did he meet Della?”

“Through Eugene. Clifton was working as a musician in New Orleans.”

“And Matthias cut his fingers off?”

“Not Matthias, but someone who was acting under orders from Matthias.”

“And does he know who this person was?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Maryanne sighed audibly. “You know, since you were here, just a week ago, I have been thinking more and more about Matthias. I have been trying to remember things that we said to each other, times when I felt that he really cared for me, and I am struggling. It is strange, but it’s like my entire perception of what was really going on back there has shifted.”

“In what way?” Holland asked, perhaps for no other reason than to feel as though he was a part of the conversation.

“My friendship was with Nancy. I knew Nancy first, and then we met Matthias. It was obvious that Matthias loved Nancy, and then Michael appeared and stole Nancy’s heart completely. I mean, Matthias was good to me, and on the face of it, he seemed to treat both me and Nancy the same, but I think he just accepted that I was part of the package deal. If he wanted Nancy around, then he got me. I think if Nancy had not been there, then Matthias Wade wouldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

“Well, he certainly hasn’t made any efforts to contact you since then, has he?”

“No,” Maryanne said, “not in any meaningful way. But then he lost his mother in fifty-two, as well, and I can only assume that losing Nancy so soon afterward just compounded the grief he was already carrying—” Maryanne stopped then, slowly shook her head. “Unless he feels no grief for Nancy.”

“Because he was the one who killed her,” Holland said.

“And Matthias knew that there was no proof of his involvement in Nancy’s death,” Gaines said. “And there is something else you need to know,” he added, “about what Michael did to Nancy and why.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Gaines detailed precisely what Regis had told him, and he explained it in such a matter-of-fact way that it now seemed to bear some logic.

Maryanne sighed. “So he did what he did for love,” she said. “After all this, he did what he did for love, and he never spoke of it, not even when you found her.”

“Seems that way,” Gaines replied. “Everything was in limbo until her body was discovered. Up until that point, Matthias didn’t need to do anything about Michael. But once she was found, then Matthias had to get rid of Michael, just to ensure that Michael didn’t say anything that could implicate him. I have been considering the possibility that whoever visited with Clifton and cut off his fingers was also perhaps responsible for what was done to Michael.”

“So I get this letter to Della somehow or other,” Maryanne said, “and hope that she doesn’t show it to Matthias, and then what?”

“Well, if she really does love Clifton Regis, then there might be sufficient motivation for her to speak to me.”

“Because getting Matthias out of the way enables her and Clifton to be reunited.”

“Yes,” Gaines said.

“Are your murder investigations always this Shakespearian, Sheriff?”

“I have to say that there are very few murder investigations, thankfully.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant,” Maryanne said. “I do understand the importance of what you’re asking me to do, but I have to be honest with you. First, I think it’s a very fragile plan. Second, and more important, I think you have no idea who you’re dealing with when it comes to Della Wade. I can only imagine what her relationship with Matthias is like. If she’s been under his control and influence for the last year and a half, I think there’s a very strong possibility that I won’t even get to her, and if I do, then the first thing she will do with this letter is take it to him. If Matthias did send someone down to New Orleans to cut Clifton Regis’s fingers off for getting involved with his sister, then what do you think he might do if he learns that Regis has every intention of getting back with her?”

“I think Clifton Regis would have a fatal accident up in Sunflower County,” Gaines said.

“And Regis is aware of this possibility?”

“Clifton Regis is not a fool. If he is not telling the truth, then he is an extraordinary liar.”

“You think you can read people that well?” Maryanne asked.

“I think I have a good intuition for people, yes. And right now I’m in a position where I either trust that intuition or reconcile myself to the fact that this will never be solved.”

“And you could never do that?”

“No, Maryanne, I could never do that.”

“Well, Sheriff, I feel I have a good intuition for people, and that is why I opened the door this morning, and that is why I asked Eddie to come over and see me. Since we spoke, I have felt a greater and greater sense of responsibility, almost a need, to do something about what happened to Nancy.”

“And that is really appreciated,” Gaines said, “because right now, I feel like I am in this alone.”

“And Matthias Wade?” she asked. “What does your intuition tell you about him?”

“That he did something truly terrible twenty years ago, that he has been living with the guilt of what he did for all this time, and it has twisted him into a manipulative and vicious man. If he killed Webster, if he did send someone to cut off Regis’s fingers, and if he buried Michael Webster’s head in the field behind my house, then he did it to warn me off, to scare me enough to drop this whole thing.”

“That is horrific,” Maryanne said. “Utterly, utterly horrific. What kind of person are we dealing with here?”

“A very dangerous man,” Gaines said, “which is why I need you to look at this in the cold, hard light of day and ask yourself whether or not you are prepared to take the risks that come along with being involved.”

“I have no choice, Sheriff Gaines.”

“Of course you have a choice, Maryanne,” Eddie Holland inter-jected.

She smiled, almost to herself, and then shook her head. “No, I don’t, Eddie. You know me well enough to understand why I don’t. I have spent the last twenty years trying to forget what happened to the best friend I ever had, and now I have a chance to—” Maryanne stopped. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She put her hands to her face, and her chest rose and fell as she suppressed her sobs.

Eddie pulled her close and put his arms around her.

John Gaines sat there in silence, feeling as empty as a shell.

52

Leaving the letter with Maryanne Benedict seemed at once the most irresponsible thing to do and yet the only avenue open to Gaines.

He and Eddie Holland said little on the journey back to Whytesburg. It was close to noon by the time they arrived, and Gaines merely dropped Eddie off at Nate Ross’s place and drove on to the office.

Victor Powell had been in to see him in his absence. Hagen had spoken with Powell about the bodies of Nancy, Judith, and Michael.

“They can’t stay there forever, obviously,” Hagen said, “but I told him that until this investigation was over, there wasn’t going to be any hope of proper funerals and suchlike.”