Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [46]
Now who’s picking whose brains? Judith thought.
“To be honest,” she said, “we didn’t notice anything unusual. Has the weapon been found?”
“No,” Rhoda answered with a frown. “The fatal wound was made by something pointed, slim, and round.” She made a quarter-inch circle with her thumb and index finger. “It sounds like a tool, rather than a knife or dagger. Still, there are many kinds of exotic weapons that don’t readily come to mind. Ricky guesses that the killer threw it overboard.”
“That makes sense,” Judith allowed.
“You know most of the suspects better than we do,” Renie said as Asthma dozed off at her feet. “Can you fill us in? It might help to discover the motive.”
Rhoda looked amused. “I don’t know where to start. Though money is always a good place, especially when murder is involved. Mags and Connie were never able to have children. They considered adoption, but her family—at least her father—is one of those snobbish Argentinians of Spanish hidalgo descent. God forbid they might have gotten a child who had native Latin American blood. Consequently, everything goes to Connie, since California is a community-property state.”
“And Connie is already rich,” Judith remarked.
Rhoda shrugged. “Not rich in the sense of rich—if you understand what I mean. Her father was very successful as a horse trainer and owner, having started out in Dubai working for a couple of emirs. I would say there’s no money motive on her part.”
“They were happy?” Judith inquired.
“Yes, I think so,” Rhoda said. “Of course one never knows for certain.”
Renie edged away from the dog, who was not only wheezing, but also snoring and drooling. “What about the business arrangement? I assumed—not that I ever thought Mags would die young—that being second in command, Paul Tanaka would take over.”
“The board of directors has to decide that,” Rhoda replied. “There are five members, including Erma Giddon and Horace Pankhurst. Two others are from your part of the world—two of those computer kings, Bill Goetz and Paul Allum.”
“Who’s the fifth one?” Renie asked.
Rhoda smiled. “Me.”
Judith smiled back. “The swing vote?”
Rhoda inclined her head to one side. “It could be. I seldom agree with Erma and Horace. We all have stock in the company. Your billionaire entrepreneurs are usually sensible people when it comes to voting on issues. Of course,” she added with only a slight suggestion of disparagement, “they do represent ‘new’ money.”
“But,” Renie pointed out, “they both allowed the line to move its headquarters out of town. Or did they vote against it?”
“The vote was unanimous,” Rhoda said without expression.
Judith was puzzled. It didn’t seem right for Goetz or Allum to deflect tourism from their hometown. They were not only civic leaders, but boosters as well. Both were very smart. They must have had sound reasons to permit the move.
“So the board can agree on some things,” Judith remarked.
“Yes,” Rhoda said, “and of course Mags wanted the move. He lives here—sorry—he lived here most of the time, and Connie has always loved California. She’s still a big Thoroughbred-racing fan, and some of the best tracks are in this state.”
“Money,” Judith murmured. “It’s such a good motive for murder. But I don’t see who benefits financially from Mags’s death.”
“Neither do I,” Rhoda agreed. “Erma has all of her family and hangers-on covered. Horace is well off, though he’s sinking a great deal of his own cash into the museum startup. Jim Brooks’s Stanford tuition is being paid by Erma.”
“That leaves the crew,” Renie said. “Were there union problems?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Rhoda replied. “Several unions are represented among the cruise line’s employees. Culinary workers, marine engineers, longshoremen—you