Miz Scarlet and the Acrimonious Attorney

by Sara M. Barton

“Does it?” I tossed those words over my shoulder as my farewell salvo and kept walking down the hallway.

  “Don’t wear that pink blouse,” Lacey advised me in a voice that carried from the dining room. “It’s too frumpy. There’s nothing wrong with that nice black scoop neck sweater you have and some pearls.”

  “Or the one with the shawl collar,” my mother added.

  They were still talking about me as I shut the door to the library. They want me to dress up to discuss a murder and they think I’m not playing with a full deck?

  “Hello,” I said into the mouthpiece. “This is Scarlet Wilson.”

  “Ms. Wilson, this is Tom Roberts. I’m a reporter with Channel 30 news. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions about the murder that took place yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you about what occurred,” I replied smoothly, careful to convey my sense of concern about the incident. “It all happened so fast.”

  “I understand you were there when the killer returned to steal items from the victim.”

  I took Kenny’s advice from the night before and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out while I composed my thoughts. “Well, to be honest with you, I didn’t actually witness the murder of Mr. Grimshaw, so I can’t be sure that the man who stole the briefcase was actually the killer. I think you should probably speak with the homicide detective in charge of the case. Above and beyond that, I don’t have anything to add.”

  “I just have one other question, Ms. Wilson, if I might. What was your relationship with the dead man?”

  “Relationship?” There it was, the question I was advised to avoid.

  “Yes, I heard....”

  At that moment, the doorbell rang. Another timely reprieve, I sighed. Of course, if it’s another reporter on the other side of the door, I’m just going to have to tango yet again.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to answer that. It was nice speaking with you, Mr. Roberts.” I hung up on him, even as he tried to engage me in a conversation about Grimacing Grimshaw.

  “Please, please, please, Lord, don’t let this be another reporter at the door.” I made my way to the foyer. Peering through the sidelight, I shook off my trepidation and grinned.

  “Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. It’s the Connecticut State Police Major Crime Squad’s number one investigator!”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.” Laurencia Rivera, dressed in a gray pantsuit and a crisp white Oxford shirt that hugged all her ample curves, stepped over the threshold. “I take it Kenny is not here yet.”

  “Sorry?”

  “He asked me to meet you two here.”

  “Kenny called you?”

  “Yes, about half an hour ago,” she replied. Glancing out the front door, I spied an unmarked State Police vehicle in our parking lot.

  “You’re on the job?”

  “That I am.”

  “Well, come on in while I find out what’s going on. Would you like some breakfast? The Googins girls are in the dining room, planning my wardrobe for my television appearances.”

  “You’re not really going to speak to reporters, are you?” There was no mistaking the apprehension in her voice.

  “I hadn’t intended to, but I’ve already gotten my first overture. It was a call from Tom Roberts.”

  “What did you tell him?” she wanted to know.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason, Miz Scarlet.”

  I know a whopper when I hear one. Larry was definitely lying. “Confess. There’s something wrong with the case. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  “Wrong is probably not the right word in this situation,” she admitted. “Let’s just say we have a bit of a glitch.”

  “What kind of a glitch?” There was no telling whether either or both of the Googins girls would decide to check on the latest visitor. They had their snooper radar on. It was better to be safe than sorry, I decided. I pulled her into the library and shut the door behind us.

  “It’s about recovering the briefcase and the wallet. We’re keeping that detail from the press. You didn’t mention it, did you?” As she stood there watching me, I could tell it was important. I shook my head.

  “No, Larry, I didn’t. In fact, Kenny spent some time prepping me last night. When Tom asked me about being there when the killer came back to steal them, I pointed out that since I didn’t actually witness the murder, I couldn’t be sure the man I saw was the murderer. That’s pretty much as far as the conversation went.”

  “Good, Scarlet. We’re hoping....”

  There was a knock on the library door. Kenny popped his head in. “Oh, good. You’re both here.”

  “How come you didn’t tell me Larry was on her way?” I chided him as he joined us.

  “Didn’t Bur tell you? He was on his way over here for breakfast and he promised to give you a heads-up.”

  How typical of my big brother to botch things up. He was always getting waylaid by one thing or another. “He got a call from a client and had to excuse himself. Why don’t I go get some coffee and muffins for us? I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “There she is,” I heard Lacey announce as I stepped into the hallway. “Oh, she’s still wearing that God-awful tee shirt.”

  “Ladies, are you still playing ‘Let’s Dress Scarlet’? I hate to break your hearts, but there will be no TV interview.”

  “Are you sure?” My mother seemed disappointed.

  “Positive.”

  “Darn!” Lacey scrunched up her face, clearly dismayed.

  “It’s probably just as well,” my mother informed her cousin. “We really don’t want her to sound off in the middle of an interview. You know she has a knack for putting her size 8’s in her mouth.”

  “That she does. It’s too bad, really. She’s an attractive woman, but she was never meant for the diplomatic corps. She’s just too blunt.”

  “Enchanté, mesdames.” I gave them both a little bow from the waist. “If you will pardon me, I shall retire to the scullery, to scrub my floor like a good servant, wearing my God-awful tee shirt, which does not suit your highbrow fancies.”

  “Hey, Scar.” My brother Bur came into the dining room as I was about to retreat to the kitchen. “Kenny wants me to tell you that he’s asked Larry to meet him here. They want to talk to you about the murder.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I didn’t bother to explain that he was late in delivering the news. “If anyone needs me, I’m unavailable. And I cannot reiterate this point strongly enough—no one, and that includes each of you,” I emphasized my words by pointing at each of them in turn, “should talk to anyone, and that means anyone at all, about what I told you about the case. The police are trying to keep the bad guys from finding out certain details about the investigation. If you spill any of the beans, the bad guy could get away with murder. Are we clear on this?”

  I studied all three of those faces carefully. I could tell it was going to take a pack of wild horses to drag any information from my mother. And Bur didn’t really know anything worth telling. But Lacey looked like she had just watched someone take the last bit of chocolate fudge from the box just as she arrived at the party. It was going to take all of her willpower to keep her mouth shut.

  “Well?” I waited. I had no intention of budging until they made a pact with me.

  “I have no objection to that, Scar.” Bur poured himself more coffee.

  “Darling, you know that we want the killer caught,” my mother replied. “Of course we will cooperate.”

  “Does that mean you’re not giving interviews?” Lacey inquired.

  “I’m sorry, Lacey. I didn’t catch your answer,” I informed her sternly. “Do you understand that no one will be talking to the press?”

  “My lips are zipped.” She pretended to lock them.

  “So, that’s a yes?” I pressed her. She mumbled her response without opening her mouth. Bur started laughing, which got my mother
going.

  “Why, bless my soul, Miz Lacey has gone silent for the first time in recent history. I wonder how long she can go without saying anything.”

  “My money is on ten minutes,” my mother impishly teased. Her cousin crossed her eyes. “When we were kids....”

  I didn’t wait around to hear the story. I went into the kitchen and put on another pot of coffee. While it was brewing, I grabbed an insulated carafe and three coffee mugs, and set the items on a tray. Once I added creamers and packets of sugar, I turned my attention to my assistant.

  “Jen, I have a meeting in the library with Kenny and Larry. Can you handle the guests when they come down for breakfast?”

  “That’s no problem.”

  “And if anyone from the press calls, do me a favor. Don’t give out any information. Take a message.”

  “You want me to pretend to be stupid?”

  “I know it’s a stretch, but could you?”

  “Sure. I like a challenge.”

  I plopped several blueberry muffins in a napkin-lined basket, added some butter packets, and grabbed plates and silverware. With the coffee in the carafe, I was ready to rejoin Kenny and Larry. “Jen, if you absolutely need me, it’s okay to come into the library and get me. Just don’t bring the snoop sisters with you.”

  “They’re driving you nuts?” She gave me a big grin. “I’ll make sure the coast is clear before I knock on that door.”

  “Thanks, kiddo.”

  Kenny was on the phone when I eased my way in, balancing the tray on my left hip. Larry jumped up and gave me a hand.

  “What’s up?” I wondered, nodding in Kenny’s direction.

  “He’s talking to Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore’s head honcho.”

  “About what?”

  “He’s trying to determine whether Grimshaw had any personal or legal problems prior to his murder. He wants to rule out any possibility that this killing is related to your effort to counter that lawsuit. So far, he’s gotten Neville Martin to admit that it was unusual for Grimshaw to refuse to consider any legal recourse on your behalf.”

  “In other words, he’s playing the guy.” I looked her right in the eye as I said that and saw her flinch. “What’s he really trying to do, Larry?”

  “He wants Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore to hire Mercer Security to look into Grimshaw’s strange behavior. Martin has already admitted that the firm had some concerns about the man over the last several months. Kenny just told him about the fishing tournaments in Florida. That came as a shock to the senior partner.”

  “And let me guess. He and Max will fill you in on what they find, and you will steer Homs and the Homicide team in the right direction. It’s all about catching the killer, isn’t it?”

  “Hey, there are budget cutbacks because of the state’s lousy economic situation. Every dollar we can save on this investigation can go towards solving another murder.”

  “No need to lecture me,” I smiled, feeling more than a little cocky. “I’m not criticizing the game plan. I just think that it’s really interesting that I’m included in this one, given how you, Max, and especially Kenny have spent so much time trying to keep me out of the Mickey Mouse Murder Club.”

  “Oh, that.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred in sugar and cream. “There’s a simple explanation. You’re not in harm’s way. We figured there was no way the murderer would come after you this time around. It’s not like you’re ever going to track him down from your armchair at the Four Acorns Inn.”

  “Ah,” I smiled good-naturedly, amused by the pathetic effort to micromanage my amateur sleuthing. “You’re going to keep me in the loop only long enough to whet my appetite. Heaven forbid I show you three up by solving the case.”

  “Oh, pull-ease!” she hissed at me, glancing over her shoulder at Kenny, who was hunched over the desk, busily taking notes. “Do you really think that you could be a real investigator in a criminal case?”

  “Could I do what you do? The answer is probably not, Larry. We both know that you have to get physical with your suspects from time to time. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t work out the clues in a murder case, given enough access to information. I can, as you have pointed out, be an armchair detective, and I’ve got a mind to do it this time around, just to prove you three wrong!”

  “You think you can identify the killer, Miz Scarlet, even though you won’t get to question any of the suspects in person? You think you can somehow decipher all the clues from the comfort of your library? Solving cases is simply an analytic exercise, rather than a grueling, physical job that requires stamina and strength?”

  “If you’re asking me if I can figure out who murdered C. Philip Grimshaw in the parking garage from the information gathered on the case, I believe I can.”

  “Without ever actually physically tracking down the killer?” She glared at me with those coal black eyes of hers. “Okay, Miz Marple...or should I say Miz Maypo?”

  “Maypo?” I gave her the stink eye.

  “Sure. You’re like instant oatmeal, aren’t you? Open a packet, pour hot water all over it, and voila! You think you can chop up the clues, whirl them around that brain of yours a few times, and you somehow manage to identify a dangerous killer without ever getting your pretty little hands dirty, digging through Dumpsters and searching for forensic evidence.”

  “And I suppose you’re the old-fashioned kind of oatmeal?”

  “I am. Better flavor and better for you. I’m out there tracking bad guys every day, peering under rocks and going where no sane person ever really chooses to go. We call them bad guys for a reason, you know.”

  “Ha, for a woman who can’t cook to save her fanny, it’s really cute that you’ve used food to make a murder analogy.”

  “You think that’s cute? I think what you’re doing is adorable! Why don’t you show all of us trained investigators how it’s done? And maybe, if you’re successful, we can have you come to the Police Academy and teach the new recruits how to solve crimes without ever leaving the comfort of their cruisers? Think of the long hours of mind-numbing grunt work we can eliminate, thanks to the Miz Maypo School of Crime Solving.”

  I know a challenge when I hear one. “You’re on, Larry. Let’s do it.”

  “Great!” she sputtered, her eyes blazing.

  “Fan-freaking-tastic!” As a comeback, it wasn’t much, but she had me rattled.

  “Well, let’s decide on a prize for the winner. What shall I ask for?” She paused for a few seconds, rolling that idea through her razor sharp brain, and then a sly smile formed on her lips. “I know. My mother, Edna Mae, is coming for Easter. If you do not solve the case by then and identify the killer who is eventually arrested by the Hartford Police Department, you will give my mother the full treatment during her week-long stay at the Four Acorns Inn.”

  “No problem.” I returned her smile. “And if I do manage to somehow solve it, thanks to the accumulation of a massive amount of dumb luck within the earth’s atmosphere that you have previously claimed seems to settle upon me with unusual regularity, I expect you to admit to the Four Acorns gang that I am indeed an astute solver of murders.”

  “When you say the Four Acorns gang....”

  “I mean the Googins girls, Jenny, Bur, Kenny, and Max.” I paused briefly to take a breath before continuing. “Your parents, too. I think Edna Mae and Big Larry should know about this.”

  “That’s what you want?”

  “And you have to tell Homs and the Homicide team, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Oh hell no!”

  “I’m sorry. That’s what I want. Of course, I understand why you would be reluctant to do that, given the fact that I have already shown my formidable sleuthing abilities to Homs and Bona. Your delicate nerves probably couldn’t withstand such a show of mastery. It would probably damage your self-esteem to such an extent that you would never recover from the blow.”

  “Never recover? Just who do you think you’r
e dealing with, sister? Some delicate daisy that will drop her petals all over the ground the second you trample her?”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem to accept my terms, Larry, if I am, as you suggest, just an amateur sleuth without any real investigatory skills. Why should you fear me?”

  “You think I fear you?” I thought for a moment that she was going to split a gut. “Oh, it’s on, sister!”

  “Is it? You’re not afraid that I might succeed?”

  “You? Certainly not! Why, you’ve just given me a great incentive to assist the Hartford Police Department on this case.”

  “Now how are you going to manage that, given the budget cuts to both the Connecticut State Police and the Hartford Police Department?”

  “I just happen to be the liaison to the homicide squad while we are testing a new software program that interfaces with other police departments to track unusual patterns of behavior in suspects. Hardy-har-har!”

  “My goodness,” I crowed. “Is that the ‘none of your damn business’ task force you’re on?”

  “Ladies, let’s not have a tinkle contest over this murder. It’s so unbecoming!” Kenny came up behind us as he put his phone back in his hip pocket. I could tell he was in a good mood.

  “Wait a minute...what happened?” I demanded of him, eager to hear about his conversation with Neville Martin. I wasn’t the only one.

  “Spill the beans,” Larry encouraged him.

  “Why, I haven’t even had my muffins yet, let alone any coffee,” he announced, patting his stomach with both hands. “You vultures have some nerve trying to pester me when I am still caffeine-free.”

  “Kenny!” I poked him in the belly.

  “Scarlet!”

  “Tolliver!” Larry crossed her arms and leaned towards him with her scary game face on.

  “Rivera!” He reached into the basket and pulled out a muffin. He set it on a plate and poured himself a cup of coffee. “All I can tell you at this point is that I’m going to go down to the Florida Keys for a few days, just to poke around, all expenses paid.”

  “No way!” I stood there, open-mouthed, watching him strut back to the desk. “They hired you?”