Free Vineyard Enigma by Philip R. Craig Page A

detectives!”
    “Defectives are what you are,” said John.
    “All right, girls,” said Mattie, “clear the table and let J.W. and Mahsimba talk. And wash the dishes while you’re at it!”
    “I’ll take care of the dishes later,” I said. “Right now it’s time for Joshua and Diana to be in bed.”
    “Aw, Pa, it’s early.”
    “You were up late last night and you have school tomorrow.”
    “Aw, Pa.”
    But they said their good-nights and went to their rooms while the twins cleared.
    “We’ll be glad to do the dishes, J.W.,” said a twin, and soon there was only coffee and cognac on the table.
    “I’ve heard of this man Mauch,” said Mahsimba.
    “He is very well known. I wonder if he is a descendant of the German, Carl Mauch, who visited the ruins of Great Zimbabwe in 1871.”
    “I didn’t ask him, though maybe I should have.”
    “The other people you’ve named, Jenkins and Hall, are not familiar to me. Tomorrow, I’ll ask about them as I continue my visits. Perhaps I’ll learn something I might otherwise have missed.”
    “And I’ll talk with them in person, if I can.” I looked at him. “One thing Mauch said that interested me was that Daniel Duarte was killed last December in an auto accident. I don’t remember you mentioning that.”
    Mahsimba studied me, then seemed to come to some decision. “I hope I’ve not offended you.” He seemed confident that he hadn’t, and his confidence was justified.
    “My feelings aren’t hurt,” I said. “People usually only tell you what they want you to hear.”
    He nodded. “Quite so. When first we spoke, I wasn’t sure that Daniel Duarte’s death was relevant to the work you were considering undertaking. That was, of course, before you told me of your Headless Horseman and before we discovered Matthew Duarte’s body.”
    “But now things are different.”
    “Yes. Now, if I was to speculate on the significance of the death of Daniel Duarte, I would point out that only days after David Brownington saw him, Duarte died in an automobile accident and I would note that one of Brownington’s skills was in arranging such accidents.”
    If that was one of Brownington’s skills, and Brownington and Mahsimba shared a past, I wondered if Mahsimba had the same skill.
    “Why would he kill Daniel Duarte?” I asked.
    “Perhaps to send a message to others who might otherwise be reluctant to talk.”
    “To Matthew Duarte, for instance?”
    “Exactly.”
    “What about Parsons, the mercenary? Did Brownington kill him, too?”
    Mahsimba shook his head. “No practical person commits violence unless there is a good reason for it. Once Brownington knew about Matthew Duarte, there was no longer any reason to be concerned about Parsons. Parsons spent the money he got for the birds and is a sick old man who probably doesn’t have long to live, anyway. God will be allowed to take Parsons in his own time.”
    “God got some help with both Duartes. And if Brownington is dead, who killed him? And who killed Matthew Duarte? Someone who didn’t want him talking to you?”
    Mahsimba sipped his coffee. “People involved in illegal activities have a greater chance of being murdered than people who aren’t.”
    “Do you think Matthew revealed the name of the buyer of the eagles before he was shot?”
    “If he had done that, there would have been no need to kill him.”
    It was my turn to nod. “And if he refused to tell, his interrogators would have been fools to kill him, since he was the only person who knew the name of the buyer. Maybe they killed Brownington, though, to keep him from persuading Matthew to talk.”
    Mahsimba’s face revealed nothing of his thoughts.
    I went on. “The police will be investigating, and they’re more likely than we are to find out who killed who, and why. Of course, the Horseman may not be Brownington and Duarte may not have been killed because of the eagles. I’d guess that the first person they’ll be talking to is