In the Shadow of Lakecrest(61)

“My purpose today is to get statements from the family, and I’m counting on your full cooperation, Mrs. Lemont.”

Chief Powell talked to Hannah as if she was any other suspect, seemingly unimpressed by her wealth or position. Which meant he might actually uncover the truth.

Chief Powell asked to meet with Matthew first, in private. Matthew suggested they talk in the office, and they walked out together, accompanied by one of the policemen and the secretary. The third policeman propped himself in the doorway of the sitting room, keeping a discreet watch on the rest of us. Marjorie asked if we could listen to the radio, and the man shrugged. I was grateful for the gentle hum of Mozart filling the room, suggesting a calm none of us felt. Marjorie laid out a game of solitaire at the card table while I tried to avoid looking at Hannah.

Matthew came back a short while later, looking pale but resolute. Chief Powell nodded at Marjorie, who pulled herself up from her chair with a melodramatic roll of her eyes.

“What happened?” I asked Matthew after they’d left.

He shook his head. “Not much.”

“Matthew . . . ,” Hannah began.

Matthew turned away from her. “No,” he said sharply. “Not now.”

We sat through a Mendelssohn waltz and a Chopin sonata before Marjorie returned.

“You’re next,” she said, nodding at me.

My heart pounded during the short walk to the office. Chief Powell would be asking the questions, but there was so much I wanted to know. If I was careful—and clever—I might be able to guide the conversation toward some answers.

Chief Powell was sitting behind the desk. I was nervous facing him head-on; anyone would be, with those eyes staring right into you. After glancing briefly at a small notebook, he asked me to describe the events leading up to the discovery of the body. He nodded as I told the story, confirming that my version matched what he’d been told by the others.

“When’s the last time you were inside the maze?” he asked.

“The afternoon of the party. Two days before the body was found.”

“It was your husband’s idea to tear it down? Because you’d gotten hurt?”

I nodded and gave him a shortened, unemotional account of the time I’d spent lost inside. Chief Powell asked if Matthew had seemed surprised when the workman told him about the skull.

“Yes, he was very upset,” I said. “As was I.”

“Have you ever discussed Cecily Lemont’s disappearance with other members of the family?” he asked.

“Now and then,” I said. “It’s not something they like to talk about, though.”

“Did any of them ever refer to Cecily as dead?”

Marjorie, Matthew, and Hannah all had, at various times. Had one of them known for sure?

“I can’t remember,” I said, but I could tell by the way Chief Powell looked at me that he’d caught my hesitation. I remembered a piece of advice Ma had given me years ago: the best way to cover up a lie is to confess something else.

“There is one thing I should tell you,” I said. “I hired a private detective, not long after I was married, to see if he could find out what happened to Cecily. I thought knowing might bring some comfort to my husband.” I looked down at my lap, then slowly, shyly, up at the policeman’s face. “The detective wasn’t able to give me an answer. Now I know why.”

Chief Powell asked me for Mr. Haveleck’s name and address and jotted them down in his notebook. I wondered if telling him had been a mistake. What would Hannah do if she found out?

After asking a few other questions—my age, my maiden name, where everyone had been when the body was discovered—Chief Powell nodded.

“That’s all for now,” he said. “Thank you for your time and candor, Mrs. Lemont. You’ve been very helpful.”

I had? How?

As I stood to go, he added, “You can send in your mother-in-law next.”

When I told her, Hannah walked out of the sitting room as regal as ever, showing no trace of fear. The mood seemed to lighten somewhat, and Marjorie convinced Matthew to join her at cards. I shook my head; I couldn’t concentrate on anything, even gin rummy. Instead, I picked up one of the newspapers and began to read.

“Death at Lakecrest!” the headline blared. “Police Baffled!”



A grisly discovery has added a new chapter to one of the North Shore’s most enduring mysteries. A body discovered on the grounds of Lakecrest, the Lemont family estate in East Ridge, has been identified as Miss Cecily Lemont, whose disappearance in 1912 has become the stuff of local legend. The remains were unearthed Tuesday, setting off a flurry of speculation about the cause of Miss Lemont’s death. Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Lemont were at home when the fateful discovery was made, along with his mother, Mrs. Jasper Lemont, and sister, Miss Marjorie Lemont.



Cecily Lemont was last seen on September 14, 1912, entering a maze she had designed on the Lemont estate. At the time of her disappearance, she was thirty-eight years old, the second child and only daughter of noted businessman and art collector Mr. Obadiah Lemont, and a respected writer and artist in her own right. Those who knew her profess to be shocked and saddened by the discovery of her sorry fate.



One such tribute comes from Miss Lucille Yates, founder of Fanciful magazine, which published Miss Lemont’s work. “She was a woman of great talent,” said Miss Yates. “Had she wished to pursue a literary career, she could have been among the nation’s foremost female authors. I never imagined that one who lived such a quiet life could come to such a sad end.”