Death on the Coast, M Comley [book club books TXT] 📗

A murmur filtered through the crowd.

“Mrs. Bannutt was legally married to Mr. Greg Dewhurst, aka Greg Davis. Mrs. Bannutt maintained her maiden name for financial reasons having to do with her own family’s business.”

Again, a titter went through the audience.

There was a loud noise at the door as the deputies entered. Greg Dewhurst and Christine Potter were led into Sal’s, their hands cuffed behind their backs. Both of them kicked up a fuss, making it necessary for the deputies to secure them to the chairs at the front of the café.

“Thank you for joining us,” Brendon welcomed them sarcastically and was rewarded with a splat of spit from Dewhurst. Brendon ignored him and continued, “On the morning of the twenty-first, Angie was walking her dog, Patch, along Ocean Trail. She was supposedly looking forward to an upcoming party due to take place that weekend. We believe that party was to be held south of here, and Mr. Dewhurst was to be her date. I’ll be referring to him as Dewhurst from this moment on. During her walk, Angie was surprised by Mr. Dewhurst who was accompanied by his wife, Bertha Bannutt.

“Mrs. Bannutt’s family were involved, and still are, in an enterprise that has been in their family for generations. Smuggling. While the contraband has changed over the years, the general concept has been to employ independent seamen with larger boats who weren’t permanently based anywhere and had the freedom to travel the coast between Canada down to Cuba without arousing suspicion. In fact, this was how Mrs. Bannutt met her husband, Mr. Dewhurst. She was attracted to him, undoubtedly, as a fine figure of a man, and he to her due to her family’s wealth and enterprise. Perhaps that’s an unfair characterization, but I believe it fits and answers many of our questions.

He glanced around at the stunned sea of faces. “It soon became apparent that the couple could not abide living together, so Mrs. Bannutt remained at her family’s compound, on a remote island off the northern part of the state. Mr. Dewhurst stayed aboard his craft, orchestrating hand-offs of whatever contraband was being moved. We surmise that Mr. Dewhurst, not being much of a family man, engaged in a number of relationships—a woman in every port, so to speak. We believe such a romantic relationship existed between Dewhurst and Angie. However, it was not an exclusive relationship.

“We have reason to believe that just before her death, Angie discovered that Dewhurst had also taken up with Angie’s own daughter, Christine. When confronted, Christine denied this, and Angie was keen to believe her. The upcoming date, in Angie’s mind, was a sort of a reunion to once again ignite her romantic link to Dewhurst.”

“Unfortunately, another one of our own, Kathy Simpson, had also been lured into a relationship by Dewhurst, before he and Angie became close.” Everyone in the bakery drew in their breath at that revelation. Kathy, who was sitting up front, began to cry, and stared down at the floor for solace. “Kathy kept it quiet—the first time. On the morning of the crime, Kathy witnessed Dewhurst pursuing Angie on her walk and followed him, expecting to confront him for his duplicity. What she probably didn’t know was that Dewhurst had already had a confrontation with his wife, Mrs. Bannutt. To return to her good graces and the continued support of her family business, he had agreed to put an end to the relationship with Angie, even if it meant silencing her forever.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room—everyone entranced by Brendon’s story. Lucy watched, trying to gauge their reactions.

“It was a windy day and Patch recognized Dewhurst, running toward him with a bark. Likely Angie wasn’t aware Dewhurst was there and was suddenly confronted by the rather frightening countenance of Bertha Bannutt, a large woman with threatening features. Bertha convinced Dewhurst to push Angie off the cliff into the sea—something Angie would have been afraid of, having nearly drowned as a child. To her, it would have meant instant death. As Dewhurst put the rope Bertha had brought with her from her boat around Angie’s neck, Kathy lay in the seagrass to the side of the path, witnessing the encounter but too frightened to make her presence known. Dewhurst pushed Angie over the edge; her weight contributed to her hanging herself.”

He paused at that point out of respect for Angie, the only sound in the bakery was that of several women quietly crying.

Brendon continued, “Once Kathy witnessed the crime, she backed away from the path, and after dropping her glasses as she stood, she panicked and ran back to her house in the village, manufacturing a plausible story as she dealt with her own broken heart. Bertha and Dewhurst boarded their respective boats. He resurfaced the next day right here in the bakery under the pretense of finding Angie, the woman he claimed to be in love with. Kathy had seen him come off his boat on her way to Sal’s and approached him. She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him ever again and she wouldn’t even acknowledge that she knew him. Apparently, Dewhurst assumed she was playing the part of the jealous girlfriend, so it was fine with him—he was up for a game, often drawn to women who pushed him away. Although he wasn’t aware of what Kathy knew, he played along when being introduced to her later here at Sal’s, and as many of you know, they became an item again. He charmed her, and the old saying about love is blind comes to mind.”

“Meanwhile, Angie’s daughter, Christine, knew the plan and was waiting for him. They planned to sail south and live on the fortune that Angie had kept silent about, never revealing the truth to anyone but Christine. It all seemed perfect. Dewhurst was waiting for Bertha to reappear. He would then murder her, and the only witness he knew of