Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [69]
“Let me see those,” she said. “They should note what was in the packages and give an approximate value . . . yes, here, see?”
She held up one of the slips.
“It says salt box.” Sean frowned. “She mailed a box of salt?”
“A box used to keep salt in,” Amanda explained. “She insured it, see here?”
Sean whistled at the amount the piece had been insured for. “That must have been some box.”
“It was. Rare and beautiful. Silver and enamel.” She waved a second receipt. “And this is for the clock. Can we open the box to see what’s in it?”
Sean nodded and pulled out a pocketknife.
“This might be the miniature she bought,” Amanda offered.
“Miniature what?”
“Portrait. Of Alexander the First.” She waded through the packing. “Here it is.”
She held up the small painting. Sean leaned closer for a better look.
“That’s Alexander the First? The Russian who was assassinated with his family? Anastasia, and all that?”
“That was Nicholas.”
“Oh, right. And she was going to trust this to the mail?”
“No, this was going by courier, see? She was paying a premium to have this handled with kid gloves.”
“You familiar with this service?”
“Yes. I’ve used it myself. We all have. They’re reliable, fast, and relatively inexpensive, compared to the competition.”
Sean folded the wrapping back over the package within a package and prepared to take it with him.
“We’ll want to speak with the service, see if their man made it down here yesterday before you did.”
“They would have called the police right away and volunteered the information, if they’d been here. They’re very reliable.” She added, “And for the record, the company is owned by a woman. Several of her drivers are women.”
“Sorry,” he said absently. “So, everything else is intact, you think?”
“I think so. I wish I’d been able to be of some help.”
“Oh, but you have. If nothing else, we’ve been able to pretty much rule out robbery as our primary motive.”
“Then what was the primary motive?” She frowned.
He’d been afraid she’d ask. “I think he came here with the express purpose of murdering Marian.”
“But why?” she whispered hoarsely.
He hesitated a little too long. She caught it.
“What?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, as we discussed, I do believe that the same person killed Derek and Marian—”
“But why? Why would anyone want them dead?”
“Well, as I said before, the only strong link between the two of them—besides their profession—is you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“It makes sense to the killer. We just have to be smart enough to figure it out.”
“Do you have any ideas on this?” She folded her arms across her chest as if suddenly cold.
“Well, there’s the pottery. . . .”
“But Marian had nothing to do with that. She never even saw the piece.”
“How about this?” Sean leaned his elbows on the glass counter. “How about if someone was here, going through your shop on Wednesday night, after you closed, looking for the goblet. Maybe Marian saw something—a light, a figure, whatever—and came over to investigate. Maybe at first she thought it was you working late, just as she had been. Maybe she tried the door and found it open, came in. He forces her back over to her place, where he kills her.”
“Maybe. Maybe. She would have come over, if she’d seen something.” Amanda nodded thoughtfully. “Just like I went to her shop when something seemed wrong.”
“Or . . .”
“Or . . . ?”
“I mentioned, I think, that I’d read through your file. The one from last year.”
“The case against Archer Lowell, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, and you found that Lowell had threatened Derek. We knew that.”
“Did you know that he had threatened Marian as well?”
“What?”
“When Lowell was arrested, he made the statement to the arresting officers that if it was the last thing he did, he’d get back at that bitch who’d called the cops on him.” He leaned back against the counter. “Marian was the one who called 911 the day that Archer attacked you outside your shop.”
“Yes.” She nodded, her face grave. “Yes, she did. And she