CHAPTER FIVE
Eleanor Whitman's house sat at the end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac, a modest ranch-style home with a meticulously maintained garden that spoke of decades of careful attention.
Kate and DeMarco walked up the brick pathway, noting the small plaques scattered among the flower beds that identified various plants in elegant script.
Even in late October, the garden showed the kind of planning that ensured something would be blooming in every season.
Eleanor answered the door before they could knock, as if she'd been watching for their arrival from behind the lace curtains that covered her front window.
She was a woman in her early seventies with silver hair swept back in a neat chignon and intelligent green eyes behind thick eyeglasses.
She wore a cardigan over a simple blouse and slacks, the kind of understated outfit that suggested someone comfortable with herself, but mindful of appearances.
“Yes, can I help you?” she asked.
“Are you Eleanor Whitman?” DeMarcco asked.
“We’re agents Wise and DeMarco, with the FBI," Kate said, showing her badge.
“This…this is about Margaret, right?”
“It is,” Kate said. “Can I ask how you knew about her death already?”
“Facebook. Someone from her neighborhood had posted about it.”
Kate sighed internally. Social media, in her opinion, was the bae of the entire world. She wished it had never been invented.
“We were hoping to speak with you about Margaret,” he said.
“Oh yes, of course. Please… come on inside. I’ve just put some tea on if you’d like to have some.”
Eleanor led them through a small foyer into a den that immediately reminded Kate of Margaret's library, though Eleanor's space was more formally arranged.
Built-in bookshelves lined the walls, filled with an impressive collection that appeared to be organized by both subject and author.
A section devoted to mystery novels took up most of one wall, and other classic writers prominently displayed.
Contemporary mystery authors filled another section, while biographies and gardening books occupied the remaining shelves.
"Please, sit wherever you're comfortable," Eleanor said, gesturing toward a seating area that included a small sofa and two matching armchairs arranged around a coffee table. "I hope Earl Grey is acceptable?”
“None for me, thanks,” DeMarco said.
“I’ll have a cup,” Kate said. She’d always found it helped to smooth things out to show an acceptance of hospitality. Plus, she did like a good cup of Early Grey.
Kate settled into one of the armchairs while DeMarco took the sofa.
Eleanor bustled around a small tea service that had been prepared on a side table, her movements quick and efficient despite her obvious distress.
Kate noticed that Eleanor's hands trembled slightly as she poured the tea, the only external sign of the emotion she was clearly working to contain.
"Mrs. Whitman, we appreciate you taking the time to speak with us," Kate began as Eleanor handed her a delicate china cup. "We understand you're the founding member of the book club Margaret was a part of. Is that correct?"
Eleanor nodded as she settled into the remaining armchair with her own cup of tea.
"The Willowbrook Book Club. We've been meeting for twenty-two years now, third Thursday of every month.
Margaret joined us a little less than four years ago, when Sandra Morrison invited her.
" Eleanor's voice caught slightly. "I still can't believe she's gone. "
"Can you tell us how Margaret fit into the group dynamics?" DeMarco asked. "What was she like during meetings?"
Eleanor considered the question while sipping her tea.
"Margaret was passionate about mystery novels, probably more so than any of us.
She approached books the way she'd approached her work as a librarian, with real analytical rigor.
She would come to meetings with pages of notes, discussion questions, and historical context about the authors. "
Kate noted the slight hesitation in Eleanor's voice. "So, it sounds like she was a valuable member of the group."
"Oh, she was. Margaret brought a level of scholarship to our discussions that elevated everyone's understanding." Eleanor paused, choosing her words carefully. "Though I will say that Margaret could sometimes be rather... pointed in her critique of other members' interpretations."
"Pointed how?" Kate asked.
Eleanor set down her teacup and smoothed her slacks.
"Margaret had very strong opinions about literary analysis.
If someone offered an interpretation she felt was superficial or inaccurate, she wasn't always diplomatic about correcting them. Particularly with our newer members. She could be quite closed-minded on certain things and sometimes came off as a bit… snobbish. I hate to say such a thing right now, of course, but it’s the truth of the matter. "
DeMarco leaned forward slightly. "Did this create tension within the group?"
"Not tension, exactly. Margaret wasn't malicious, she was just very... direct. She surely started a few lively discussions within the group, that’s for sure.
She'd spent thirty years as a high school librarian, and I think she sometimes forgot she wasn't still teaching teenagers.
" Eleanor managed a weak smile. "Most of us understood that her corrections came from a genuine love of literature, not from any desire to make people feel foolish. "
Kate found this information interesting.
A group dynamic where Margaret held herself up as the literary authority might create resentment among members who felt consistently criticized or diminished.
Especially if others had been around long before her.
"How did the newer members respond to Margaret's critiques? "
"Different people handled it differently.
Some members appreciated Margaret's expertise and learned from her feedback.
Others found it intimidating or off-putting.
" Eleanor picked up her tea again, using the gesture to avoid eye contact.
"We lost two members over the past year.
Both cited scheduling conflicts, but I suspect Margaret's.
.. intensity... may have contributed to their decision to leave. "
"Can you give us the names of those former members?" DeMarco asked.
Eleanor provided the names, which DeMarco noted in her notebook. Kate made a mental note to follow up with the women who had left the group, though she suspected the killer was more likely to be found among the current members rather than former ones.
"Mrs. Whitman, we understand the group was supposed to meet tomorrow evening,” DeMarco said. “Are you planning to cancel tomorrow's meeting?"
Eleanor nodded emphatically. "Of course. It would be completely inappropriate to continue with our normal schedule. The members are all devastated by Margaret's death."
Kate had expected this, but in the back of her mind, she had started to develop a plan. She wished she'd thought of it sooner so she could discuss it with DeMarco, but she was playing on a hunch and didn't want to lose the momentum.
"Actually, I'd like to suggest that you go ahead with the meeting as planned," Kate said. "In fact, I'd like to attend if you'd be willing to have me."
Eleanor's surprise was evident. "You want to attend our book club meeting?"
"With your permission, yes. Sometimes people remember important details when they're in familiar surroundings, discussing something they're comfortable with.
Someone in your group might know more about Margaret's recent state of mind than they realize.
And honestly, speaking with all of you at once rather than one at a time will be much more efficient. "
Eleanor looked deeply uncomfortable with the suggestion as she sipped casually at her tea. "I'm not sure the other members would be prepared for that kind of questioning during what should be a time of mourning."
"I wouldn't be there as an interrogator," Kate assured her. "I'd simply be listening to the conversation, observing how the group interacts. You could introduce me as a friend who's interested in book discussion, if you like."
DeMarco added, "It might actually be helpful for the group to come together and share their memories of Margaret.” Kate smiled on the inside, loving how Demarco had already agreed to the notion and was fully on board.
“Sometimes talking through grief with people who understood the deceased can be healing. "
Eleanor considered this for a long moment, clearly weighing her discomfort against her desire to help the investigation.
"I suppose... if you think it might help find whoever did this to Margaret.
.. but I would need to call the other members and explain the situation.
Some of them might not be comfortable with your presence. "
"That's completely understandable," Kate said. "Anyone who prefers not to attend can certainly stay home. But for those who do come, it might provide valuable insights into Margaret's recent interactions with the group."
“I see. Then yes, let’s go ahead with it.”
“Thank you,” Kaye said. "Now, Mrs. Whitman, in the past few weeks, did Margaret seem different to you in any way? More withdrawn, or upset about something?" DeMarco asked.
Eleanor thought for a moment. "Actually, yes.
For about three weeks in September, Margaret missed our meetings entirely.
When I called to check on her, she said she wasn't feeling well and needed some time away from social activities.
But then in early October, she contacted me to say she was ready to rejoin the group.
She seemed more engaged than ever after that, if anything. "
The timeline matched what Harold had told them about Margaret's reaction to her cancer diagnosis. Three weeks of withdrawal, followed by a renewed engagement with the book club that had become her primary social outlet.
"When Margaret returned to the group, did she mention any personal issues she was dealing with? Health problems, family stress, anything like that?" Kate asked.
Eleanor shook her head. "Margaret was very private about personal matters. It was very rare that she spoke about her personal life. Maybe a time or two she talked about her marriage when she’d had a few glasses of wine, but nothing very personal.”
"What about the other members of the group?” Kate asked. “Do any of them have particularly close relationships with Margaret outside of book club?"
"Sandra Morrison was probably closest to her, since Sandra was the one who invited Margaret to join. They occasionally had coffee together between meetings. Also, Diana Clark and Margaret sometimes exchanged book recommendations. But most of our socializing happened during the monthly meetings."
Kate made note of the names Eleanor mentioned. If someone in the book club had harbored resentment toward Margaret's critical approach to literary discussion, or if someone had learned about Margaret's cancer diagnosis through casual conversation, they would need closer examination.
"Mrs. Whitman, what time should I arrive at tomorrow’s meeting?" Kate asked.
Eleanor still looked uncertain, but she nodded. "We meet at seven o'clock. I'll call the other members tonight and explain the situation. Those who feel comfortable attending can still come, and those who prefer to wait can rejoin us next month."
As Kate and DeMarco prepared to leave, Eleanor walked them to the front door. "Agent Wise, are you really suggesting someone from our book club could have done this to Margaret?"
Kate considered how to answer truthfully without causing additional distress.
"We're exploring every possibility, Mrs. Whitman.
Right now, we're focused on understanding Margaret's recent activities and relationships.
The book club was clearly important to her, which makes it important to our investigation.
" And of course, she thought but did not dare say, there’s the fact that she was killed in a manner that links her death to the book your club has been reading.
As they walked back to their car, Kate found herself thinking that, if Margaret's killer had indeed staged the scene to replicate Christie's work, they had turned Margaret's greatest passion into the instrument of her death.
That suggested an intimate knowledge of Margaret's reading habits, combined with a cruelty that went beyond simple murder, and into the realm of psychological torture.
She had the feeling that once she and DeMarco closed this case, the Willowbrook Book Club might never be the same.