Page 87 of Close Up

Rex had been leaning out the window, inhaling the salty breeze. He turned at the sound of his name and gave Nick an inquiring look.

Nick opened the folder that held Treyherne’s correspondence. There was a letter from a New York law firm addressed to Jonathan Feathergill. The first letter dealt with the transfer of a large sum of money from the Feathergill Trust to the account of Jonathan Treyherne at a Los Angeles bank. The date coincided with Treyherne’s move to the West Coast.

“He changed his name to Treyherne when he moved out here, Rex. He really did walk away from his old life.”

Rex looked as if he agreed with that analysis.

The second letter in the folder had an earlier date. It was addressed to Jonathan Feathergill at an address in New York. Nick read it quickly.

Dear Mr. Feathergill:

I regret to inform you that I fear there is no hope for a cure. The insanity that afflicted your father has been passed down to your brother, Edward. We have attempted several forms of treatment but nothing has proven effective.He is, and will always be, a danger to others. All I can offer you is the guarantee of a safe, secure environment here at Maple Tree Farm.

As you know we maintain the highest levels of discretion. The details of your brother’s medical condition as well as his location will not be divulged to anyone except the members of his immediate family. I understand that you are his only living relation...

The letter was signed Dr. Clement Hulton.

There was one more note from Hulton.

Dear Mr. Feathergill:

I write to inform you of news of the most serious nature. Edward Feathergill was reported missing three days ago. We have conducted an exhaustive search of the grounds and the surrounding woods. We have found no trace of him. We believe he attempted to leave our remote location by means of a small rowboat during the recent storm. The vessel no doubt capsized in the high seas. I and the members of my staff are convinced that Edward perished. Please accept my condolences but under the circumstances perhaps it is for the best...

Nick put the letters back into the folder. He fired up the Packard and drove to the nearest phone booth. He arranged several stacks of coins on the small tray beneath the phone and dialed the operator.

“Long distance, please,” he said.

When the long-distance operator came on the line he gave her the name and address of Maple Tree Farm. She, in turn, told him the initial charges. He fed the coins into the slots.

It took a few minutes to put through the call but eventually a man came on the line. He sounded like a secretary or clerk.

“Maple Tree Farm. How may I assist you?”

“This is Jonathan Feathergill calling for Dr. Hulton.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Feathergill. I’ll connect you immediately.”

A moment later a polished, professional male voice came on the line.

“Mr. Feathergill, I must say, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

“A year and a half ago you informed me that my brother died while trying to escape Maple Tree Farm.”

“That is correct.” Hulton’s voice tightened. “We assumed he perished at sea. What is this about? Has there been some news?”

“Edward Feathergill not only survived that storm, he made it out to California and adopted a new identity. He called himself Morris Deverell and, as far as I can tell, he murdered at least three people before he was finally caught while attempting to kill a fourth victim. He tried to escape. This time he didn’t make it. You may have seen the stories in the press. The papers labeled him the Dagger Killer.”

There was a short, fraught silence on the other end of the line. Then Hulton heaved a weary sigh.

“I did see something about the Dagger Killer murders in the press,” he said. “It caught my attention, as I’m sure you can imagine. But there were no photos in the local newspaper. It considers itself a family paper. It does not print sordid pictures of deranged murderers. But I did check the name of the killer. When I realized the name was unfamiliar, I set my concerns aside.”

“Why did the story catch your attention?” Nick asked.

“Why, because of the daggers, of course. I remember very clearly that when you brought Edward to Maple Tree Farm you explained that your brother had used an antique dagger from your father’s collection to murder your mother. One doesn’t forget that sort of detail.”

Nick hung up the phone and called Raina Kirk in Burning Cove. He told her what he wanted. “You can reach me at the Pacific Horizon Hotel in Adelina Beach. That’s where Vivian and Lyra and I are staying while Vivian looks for a new place to rent.”

“It’s going to take some time to track down the people who might have the answers you’re looking for,” Raina warned.

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