"So what happened?" Laura asked.
"It took two years before the court agreed to hear an appeal."
"On what grounds?" Donald wondered.
"On the grounds that I discovered some evidence that the District Attorney kept important evidence out of the first trial. Evidence that would have resulted in an acquittal. The DA was determined to convict my client, especially since I was a brand new attorney who he thought should be back in London, not here. I thought Mrs. Sheaffer would be pleased. But she informed me that her husband had been fatally stabbed in a prison riot the day before I called." Laura winced. "So I dropped it in the lap of the DA's office, and ran back to London. I concentrated on business law, refused to take criminal cases that would lead to a trial. I haven't set foot in a courtroom to argue a case since."
Laura looked at her. "You have to admit, Jessica, that it's a pretty good explanation for what's been happening around here," she pointed out.
Remington nodded in agreement. "Find out as much as possible as the man you care about, then set up an air tight frame, leaving you to either back off the case- or return to the courtroom to- confront you past, as it were."
"We need to locate Mrs. Sheaffer," Katherine decided.
"Dead end," Mildred muttered as she watched the doctor and Edward through the glass window.
"I beg your pardon, Mildred?" Remington asked, and she turned her full attention to him.
"Imogene Sheaffer died a month after her husband. Suicide. She took a full bottle of pills."
Everyone's faces fell as their chief suspect faded away. "Mildred," Jessica recalled, "There was a son, believe."
"Joey," Mildred confirmed. "He was thirteen when his father was arrested, fifteen when he was made a ward of the court."
"What about Darnell?" Donald wondered. "He was a cousin, why didn't he take the boy in?"
"According to what I found, he did for all of a week. But he told the court that Joey was a problem, that he was violent, dangerous."
"Darnell was the one I suspected as having set Sheaffer up," Jessica said quietly. "But I had no proof, only a few vague suspicions. I'd forgotten the name until Antony mentioned it earlier."
"Understandable, dear," Katherine said quietly. "I'm sure no one blames you for what happened."
"Except for Joey Sheaffer," Jessica reminded her. "Did you find a current address on him, Mildred?"
Mildred shook her head. "Sorry. Once he got into the system, I lost track of him. He might have been adopted- or changed his name, even."
Remington looked at Katherine. "Katherine, how much do you know about Joe Blakewell's mother?"
"Maisie?" Katherine asked, glancing at Robert. "She was living in the hotel when I moved in, she's a few years younger than I am, I suppose."
"And she makes excellent tea," Robert finished. "She's also an inveterate gossip, and brags constantly on her son- who no one's ever seen visiting her."
"Then you've never actually met the man?"
"I have," Jessica told him. When everyone looked at her, she told them, "I was leaving the courthouse this afternoon when he approached me, introduced himself. He said he wanted to help."
Remington nodded thoughtfully. "He was here as well," he told her, surprising Laura.
"He was? When?"
"Oh, while Frances and Donald were in the cafeteria having coffee. Blakewell dropped by, said he'd heard about Edward's being here at the police station."
Jessica shook her head. "He didn't go to the police station," she told her brother. "We were headed in that direction, but he said he had someplace he needed to be and left."
"Did you ever meet Joey Sheaffer, Jessica?" Laura wanted to know.
"No. Mrs. Sheaffer wanted to keep him out of things as much as possible. I can't believe she killed herself. She didn't seem the type."
"What did Blakewell look like?" Laura asked.
"Early twenties, blonde."
"Which lets him off the hook, right?" Donald said. "I mean, didn't Tony's neighbors claim to have seen him the other night? And you said you'd seen someone who looked like him at the docks."
At Jessica's inquiring glance, Remington shrugged. "We got there just after Darnell was murdered. He could have been wearing a wig, Donald. His build is about right, he's the same height as Antony. "And we never saw his face."
"Then it appears that we need to speak with Mr. Blakewell, don't we?" Jessica told them. "It should be easy to find him. He's a reporter for the Times, I think."
The doctor came from Edward's room, distracting Laura, Frances, and Mildred. "How is he, doctor?" Laura asked.
"He's fine, Mrs. Steele. But I'm going to keep him overnight for observation. That was a pretty nasty bump on the head that he took. We'll be moving him to another room. What I would suggest is that you all go home and get some rest tonight."
"Can we see him?" Frances wanted to know.
"Yes. Just don't overtire him with questions. It's quite possible that the few minutes he lost could return on their own- or not at all. Questioning him will only frustrate him."
"Thank you, doctor," Laura said, turning toward the door with Frances. In the open doorway, she paused, glancing back at Mildred, who hadn't moved. "Aren't you coming in, Mildred?"
"You two girls go on. Spend some time with your father."
Laura glanced at Frances, then both women took Mildred's arms and pulled her to the room. "Come on, Mildred," Laura said.
"I'd say they took the news pretty well," Donald commented to Remington. "About Edward and Mildred, I mean."
"Hmm," Remington mused. An idea was forming. Laura wouldn't like it very much, since it put her father's life in danger, but it might be the only way they had to catch whoever was behind this and clear Tony.
Jessica was sitting with Robert and Katherine. "Why don't we simply ask Maisie about her Joe?" Katherine suggested.
Remington and Jessica looked at each other. "Why didn't we think of that?" he asked. "Let me tell Laura where we'll be," he said.
Edward was sitting up in bed, shaking his head when Remington entered the room with Donald. "Ah, there you two are," he said. "I was just telling the ladies that I really don't think I need to stay here tonight. I feel fine- except for those missing minutes, that is."
"I think you should do as the doctor suggests, Edward," Donald told his father in law.
Remington nodded as he went to Laura's side. "Best not to take any chances with a head injury," he agreed. "And I'm sure the ladies will rest easier knowing you're being looked after."
Laura glanced up at him. She knew him too well, he realized, as she let him pull her slightly away from the others. "What is it?" she asked.
"Robert and Katherine are about to leave to go talk to Maisie Blakewell. And Jessica and I are going to talk to Lt. Cohen about the case, then meet them there."
"I can go with you," she told him, but Remington shook his head.
"You belong here at the moment. We're just going to talk to her- unofficially, see what she can tell us about Joe."
Laura glanced back to where her father was holding Mildred's hand. "Will he be safe here, do you think? I mean, what if the killer decides to try and kill him to keep his memory from returning?"
"I'll ask Lt. Cohen to keep his man here overnight. And if he refuses, I'll go over his head to Jarvis."
She smiled at him. "Thank you. Be careful."
"Laura, what kind of trouble can I possibly get into questioning a little old lady about her son, eh?"
"Knowing you-," Laura began, but he placed a finger to her lips.
"I'll be careful," he promised.
Jessica was talking to John Barnes, the assistant District Attorney in Tony's case. "What a surprise, Mr. Barnes," she said.
"I've got a friend whose wife just had a baby upstairs," he said. "What brings you here?" he asked, glancing in acknowledgement of Remington as he went to his sister's side.
"My father in law was attacked near the docks this afternoon," Remington told the man. "We think it might have something to do with Antony Roselli's case."
"I thought your license was suspended," Barnes commented, narrowing his eyes at Remington.
"It is. I'm not doing anything as a detective. Jessica happens to be my sister and I'm not going to simply stand by and let someone she cares about be railroaded into prison."
"Of course not. Family's very important," Barnes agreed. He glanced at the room behind them. "How is Mr. Holt doing?"
"Recovering nicely. Mr. Barnes, I'm really glad we bumped into each other. We've discovered that someone may be trying to frame Antony Roselli for murder to gain revenge on Jessica."
Barnes shook his head in confusion. "You just lost me, Steele."
"It's quite simple, Barnes," Robert said in a patient voice. "Jessica's first case was one very similar to this. We think the son of her former client may be trying to hurt her using Tony."
Barnes looked at Jessica. "Stretching for a defense, aren't we, Counselor?"
"It's the truth, Mr. Barnes," Jessica insisted. "Feel free to check out the case if you like. Claude Sheaffer was tried and convicted of murder ten years ago in San Francisco. I was his attorney."
"Sheaffer."
"As in Sheaffer Import-Export?" Remington prodded. "She suspected Glen Darnell of being the actual murderer. Now he's dead."
Barnes sighed. "Steele, we have eye-witness accounts placing Roselli at the scene of both murders."
"Antony was with me when Darnell was killed, Mr. Barnes. How's that for an alibi?"
"Miss Beecham, you're personally involved with the man. Any competent attorney could blow that out of the water and you know it."
"You've got the wrong man in jail, Barnes," Remington told him.
"Sorry. I don't happen to see it that way," Barnes replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the gift shop before it closes. Good evening. See you in court, Miss Beecham."
"Why don't I like that man?" Katherine asked in a quiet voice as Robert took her arm.
"Because he's a idiot, my dear," Robert told her. "We'll see you both later."
"Don't ask Maisie any questions until we get there," Remington told them, staring after Barnes' departing back as Jessica touched his arm. "Remington?" When he looked at her, she smiled. "Let it go."
"Good lord," Robert sighed as the taxi rounded the corner to head for the residential hotel in which he and Katherine lived. There was an ambulance parked before the building. "What now?"
After he assisted Katherine from the car, Robert found a familiar face. "Eddie," he said, hailing the doorman. "What's going on?"
"Oh, Mr. Brandon. Mrs. Morgan. Well, You know how Mrs. Blakewell likes her tea?"
"Yes," Robert agreed impatiently.
"Well, Mrs. O'Connor heard the whistle on the kettle going in Mrs. Blakewell's apartment. She knocked and there was no answer, so she came and got me."
"Go on, Eddie," Katherine said, feeling a bit light headed.
"Well, we found Mrs. Blakewell, lying on the living room floor, an empty bottle of pills in her hand. Guess she was making some tea when she started having pains, then found her medicine was gone."
Robert looked at the body being loaded into the ambulance. "She's dead?"
"I'm afraid so. Sorry, Mrs. Morgan. I know you and she were friends."
"Do you know if they've called her son?" Robert asked, putting his arm around a suddenly fragile looking Katherine.
"Her son? Mrs. Blakewell didn't have any kids- oh, you must mean that foster kid she took in years ago. Works for one of the papers, I think. Copy room. But she told everyone he was a hot shot reporter."
Robert was beginning to think that Eddie could out-do poor Maisie in the gossip department. "We thought he was her son."
"Nope. Anyway, the police are trying to contact him to tell him about Mrs. Blakewell."
Seeing that Katherine was upset, Robert nodded at the doorman. "I'm expecting my grandson and granddaughter, Eddie. Would you send them up to Mrs. Morgan's apartment when they get here?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Brandon."
Remington glared at the police detective who sat behind the desk. "Lieutenant, will you at least CONSIDER that we might be onto something?"
Cohen shook his head. "Sounds pretty far fetched to me, Steele. This kid couldn't possibly have brought that girl here- or set up a frame as tight as this one. Yeah, Blakewell's got visions of being the Times' new hot shot, but he's harmless."
"What do you know about him?"
"Not much. He's pretty close-mouthed about himself. Listen, Steele, I know you want to clear Roselli. He works for you- hell, he's involved with your sister. But this won't do it."
Remington took a deep breath. "Will you at least keep a guard on Edward Holt?"
Cohen met his look evenly. "Okay. Guess it's the least we can do." He sat back. "You say he can't remember anything that happened?"
Remington and Jessica walked in silence to her car once he finished with Cohen and she left Tony. Seeing her downcast face, he took the keys from her and opened the passenger side door. "I'll drive," he offered. She gave him a grateful smile. When he got behind the wheel, he paused. "How was Antony?"
"Frustrated," she said quietly. "He wants to be out here, helping us."
Remington started the engine. "Let's go see what Maisie Blakewell can tell us, eh?"
Katherine was sitting in her favorite chair, a cup of tea on the table beside her when Robert opened the door to let Remington and Jessica into the apartment. "How did it go with Lt. Cohen?" he asked.
"He's convinced that we're grabbing at straws," Remington told the older man. "But he did agree to keep a guard on Edward for the night."
Jessica looked around the room. "Where's Mrs. Blakewell?" When neither Robert nor Katherine answered, Remington took a closer look at his aunt's drawn features.
Kneeling at her side, he touched her hands, and was surprised at the coolness. "Kitty?"
Her face brightened slightly at the old nick name. "It's not often you call me that, Danny," she told him.
"It's not often you look as if you've lost your best friend, either. What's wrong?" he asked gently.
"Maisie had a heart attack earlier- someone heard her kettle going-," she said in a halting voice.
Remington lifted his eyes to Robert, who shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Kitty. Did you know she had a heart problem?"
"Most of the people in this building do, dear," she reminded him.
"Do you know if they've contacted her son?" Jessica asked.
"They're trying to find him, I believe. But- he wasn't her son."
Jessica paused as she picked up the tea cup with the intention of carrying it to the kitchen. "He wasn't?"
"No. According to Eddie- Joe was Maisie's foster son. She took him in some years ago. He uses her name out of gratitude for everything she did for him."
"I just wonder how he repaid that gratitude," Remington mused aloud. "What would the chances be of my getting into Maisie's apartment, Robert?"
Jessica looked concerned. "Remington, is that a good idea? If you're caught in there-," she began, but Robert placed a hand on her arm.
"He'll be fine, Jessica. I'll stand lookout for him."
"You see?" Remington said. "Everything will be fine. Why don't you fix Katherine some more tea while we're gone?" he suggested as Robert opened the door. He gave his aunt a quick kiss on the cheek. "Won't be a moment."
In the hallway, Robert stood watching the other doors as Remington made short work of the lock on Maisie's door. "Very good," he commented as the lock clicked.
"Reward of a misspent youth," Remington said, opening the door.
"Don't be long, Remington."
Inside the apartment, Remington turned on a light to examine the room. Nothing looked out of place- except for the tea tray sitting on the kitchen counter. There were two cups, sitting, waiting for tea that was never going to be poured.
Returning to the living room, Remington caught sight of the empty pill bottle on the table beside where the apartment's late occupant had evidently fallen. Picking it up, Remington glanced at the label as he heard Robert's voice in the corridor just beyond the door.
"Hello, there. Can I help you?" Robert asked.
"I'm Joe Blakewell," another man responded. "I just heard about Maisie." Remington flipped the light switch as he stuffed the bottle into his pocket and hid behind the door upon seeing the knob turn.
"My sympathies," Robert said. "It must have been quite a shock."
"Yes. I- I'd never thought that she wouldn't be here for me if I needed her." The door opened slightly. "If you'll excuse me-," Joe said.
Remington held his breath, waiting. In just a moment, he might find himself face to face with the man responsible for framing Tony for two murders. And quite possibly get to the bottom of things in the bargain. IF Blakewell didn't have him arrested for unlawful entry, that is.
To Be Continued...