Jack Johnson #1: The Tour

She looked surprised but stood up and took their cups. “Not at all.” She led Jack towards the front door. “This house is two levels. I sleep in this room right next to the stairs.” The door was open, and it was more than professional curiosity that urged Jack to survey the room. But there was nothing unusual about it, or maybe it was unusual because there was nothing personal about it. Nothing in Amy’s room signaled that it was the room of a young and single female college graduate. It was neat, orderly, and old-womanish. Jack decided that Mrs. Cummings was as strict as she looked and must not let Amy show any signs of having a personality. 

Amy led him towards the garage door. At the landing was a bedroom, bathroom, and hall closet. “This is the guest suite. It has the best view in the house, so Mrs. Cummings likes to save it for ‘special visitors,’” Amy gave him a knowing look. Mrs. Cummings was laying down and the door was closed, so Jack had no idea what a middle-aged bachelor’s room looked like when he still lives at what is essentially his parent’s house.

They started walking down the stairs. “There is a second living room down here, and it is for Mrs. Cumming’s special use. I don’t come down here often.” They made it to the bottomof the stairs, and Jack could see a sliding back door, a set of French doors to his right, and a living room. The couches were arranged so that they faced the TV and piano, and there was a card table behind them. Amy pointed down the hallway. “Down this way is the laundry room, some more closets, and an office in the back. It used to be Mr. Cumming’s study.” She paused. “No one uses it now. It looks exactly like it did the day he died.” Jack wasn’t sure what part of that statement struck him, but he wrote that information down verbatim.

Amy brought him towards the French doors. “This is Mrs. Cumming’s suite. It used to be Amanda’s, and Eric used to stay in the bedroom I am in. That was before Amanda disappeared and Mr. Cummings died.” She opened the doors and he was hit by pink. Pink everything. Pink wallpaper with rose trim a foot from the ceiling. Pink velvet armchair in a corner, underneath a small chandelier. The bed was nestled in between the window and the mirrored closet, and was covered in white with roses embroidered on it. At the foot of the bed sat a rose pink bench that matched the reading chair. Old lady heaven. No wonder Amanda left, Jack thought.

A small hallway led into a bathroom, which was almost as big as the bedroom. The bathtub could fit two people, if one was into that kind of thing, and so could the shower. The bathroom, like the kitchen above, had a carpeted floor. Jack came back into the bedroom, and inspected the nightstand. There sat the little glass box as she said. It had brass legs and turquoise birds perched on what else than a rose etched on the lid. It was small, about the size of a deck of cards, and was empty. Apparently its only job was to hold the ring. And someone connected to the family knew that. Jack was convinced it had to be an inside job. 

He wasn’t sure where to start, so Jack thought he may as well “So, Amy, where did Mrs. Cummings keep her ring?”

“She wore it on her right ring finger. It had been her engagement ring, but when she married Mr. Cummings, he bought her a matching wedding set, so she started wearing the ring on her right hand.”

“I see. Did she ever take it off?” He looked at her intently. 

“Not that I ever saw. It was supposed to go to Amanda. It gets passed down the female line. As much as she loves Eric, she would wear it to her grave if she could keep it away from Ellen, that’s for sure.”

They exited the bedroom. Back in the living room, she pointed toward the sliding door. “This back door goes to a patio, which is attached to the back porch upstairs. The stairs go all the way to the gate in the front yard.” 

“Do you have any ideas as to how the break in happened?”

“Well, the alarm system didn’t go off, and so whoever did it had to have a key to the house and know the security code. They probably hopped the gate and came down the outside stairs, and through this back door. Her oxygen machine would muffle any noise made, and if they had come from the front door or garage, I would have heard them. I’m a pretty light sleeper.”

“Can I get a list of who has a key?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Cummings, myself, Eric and Ellen share one, and Amanda. She had a key before she left, and no one has changed the locks, so her key still works.”

“And all on the list,” Jack looked up from his legal pad, “would know the sleeping arrangements and more intimate details of the house?”
“I guess so…” Amy stuttered out, looking like she was trying not to incriminate herself. 

“Thank you, Amy.” Seems pretty easy, huh?

“Was that enough information for you?” She finally made eye contact with him. 

“Oh, it was more than enough.”

“Really? I know it was a few months ago, but I feel like the police search was much more thorough.”

“They have a lot of protocols that I don’t follow. And, they gave me their case file which gave me the chance to look it over before I arrived here. Trust me, you’ve helped me out so much. One last question, where did Eric and Ellen hide out during college? If he had been caught, it would have ruined his academic career.”

“They met at Club Velvet a lot. That’s the only place that comes to mind.”

“Thank you, Amy. I’ll show myself out.”