by Mary Daheim
“Coz,” Judith said in a piteous tone, “please?”
Renie sat up and drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel. “I’ll have to pretend I lost the sympathy card. Is the son about to join Elke or whatever her name is? Or was?”
“That’s what you’re going to find out,” Judith replied, darting a look to make sure there was no sign of Lainie spying on them.
“Got it. Take cover.” Renie closed the window and reversed to the rental, narrowly missing the Ford Explorer.
Judith hurried inside Hillside Manor. There was no sign of Ruby. Apparently, she was listening to yet another tale of Gertrude’s flapper-era adventures. Five minutes later, Joe entered through the back door carrying a carton of what looked like liquor bottles. “Why is Renie’s Camry parked in Rankerses’ driveway? Did she run out of gas?”
Judith winced. “She’s doing research. Mrs. Frosch died last night. The wife or girlfriend slammed the door in my face. I was only trying to offer condolences.”
“Right. Maybe natural causes, maybe not.” Joe looked askance as he set the carton on the counter. “I’ve got more boxes still in the car.”
Judith gritted her teeth at the thought of the bill. The only consolation was that part of it was a tax write-off. By the time Joe had brought in the third carton, he was out of breath, but recovered quickly. “So what is Renie doing?”
“I told you—I flunked,” Judith replied. “I assume Brick is still alive and in the hospital. I‘m sorry about Mrs. Frosch’s death. I wonder if Arlene knows. In fact, all the neighbors should be informed.”
Joe was foraging in the fridge. “Let’s see—one dead, one hospitalized, Renie trying to act sympathetic and hauling a big bouquet through the front door, a hostile Lainie confronting your ornery cousin . . . what could possibly go wrong?”
“Renie will be fine. She was in a good mood—for Renie.”
“That means no weaponry?” Joe said, putting pastrami on a slice of Russian rye.
“No unless you consider chrysanthemums dangerous,” Judith replied as Ruby came in through the back door.
“Wow! Your mother had some real stories!” she exclaimed. “Bathtub gin and all.”
“Oh,” Judith said. “Yes, the one where her priggish boss came in while they were taking inventory—of how much gin they could make in the office sink. They heard him coming, so they threw the gin and the sink out into the alley three floors down.”
Ruby nodded. “And a bum who was hanging out down there licked the sink dry.”
“Right,” Judith said, putting the last of the liquor bottles away. “Mother told her boss that a baby alligator had come up through the drain and that was the only way they could get rid of it. The guy was dumb enough to believe her. Later he became a U.S. congressman. Mother never voted for him because he was a Republican.”
Joe had sat down at the kitchen table with his lunch. Ruby took a bottle of Evian water from the fridge and wandered off into the dining room. Phyliss called out from the top of the basement stairs to announce that Beelzebub’s familiar had eaten a pair of Joe’s socks.
“Damn that Sweetums,” Judith said under her breath as she heard Phyliss continue on to the upstairs. “Weren’t those your good socks?”
“I don’t have any good socks,” Joe replied. “Why don’t you women darn socks like my mother used to do?”
“Why don’t you stop wearing them out?” Judith demanded. “I’ve never darned a sock in my life. Go buy some new ones.” She looked inside the fridge for the pastrami, but couldn’t find it. “Did you eat all the pastrami or did you hide it from me?”
“There wasn’t much left,” Joe said. “Isn’t there baloney in there?”
Judith glared at her husband. “I gave the last of that to Mother. How about you doing a grocery run for a change? I’ll make a list. We got wiped out on food last night, despite Renie’s gargantuan order from Punchinello’s. There wasn’t a bit of pizza left.”
“Sure,” Joe said. “Maybe I can find some socks on top of the hill at Bartleby’s Drug Store.”
“Good idea,” Judith muttered, getting a frying pan out of the cupboard. “I’m stuck with a fried egg sandwich.”
“I thought you liked a fried egg sandwich,” Joe said. “By the way, what’s Ruby up to today? Has she given up on her mother’s case?”
“I’m beginning to feel as if we should adopt her,” Judith said. “But she does have to go back to work Monday in . . .” She paused to answer the phone that was sitting on the counter.
“I need rescuing,” Renie yipped into her cousin’s ear. “I’m stuck in the Rankerses’ monster hedge.”
“What?” Judith hurried to the kitchen window. She could see the imposing profusion of shiny laurel leaves, but no sign of Renie. “Never mind. How did you end up in the hedge?”
“I couldn’t park Cammy in your driveway where Lainie could see it, so I put the car in Arlene and Carl’s driveway. They’re not home. Then I decided I should crawl through the hedge into your yard, where I couldn’t be spotted. I’m somewhere in the vicinity of the birdbath. Hurry up. There’s a bunch of bugs in here with me.”
Joe had already gotten up. “I can practically hear Renie without the phone. I’ll rescue her. Stay put.”
“Joe’s coming,” Judith informed her cousin.
“Good. I’ll keep talking so he knows where I am. I was brilliant, by the way. At least right up until I got stuck in the hedge.”
“What did you find out about Brick?”
“Brick? Ouch! Something just poked me. Damned branch . . . I thought his name was Bernard. Oh, hi, Joe. Glad you’re here. I’m hanging up now, coz. See you soon.”
Shaking her head, Judith disconnected the phone. Maybe Joe would have to hose down Renie before she could come in the house. Phyliss had already cleaned the kitchen floor.
But only a couple of minutes passed before her husband and her cousin came through the back hall. Renie didn’t look much worse than she usually did except for some dirt smudges on her jeans, a few dried leaves sticking to her car coat, and a twig dangling from the front of her Notre Dame sweatshirt.
“Got any Pepsi?” she asked, plopping down in a kitchen chair.
“No,” Judith said. “We’re out. I’m about to make a grocery list for Joe, who is heading for the store any minute.” She paused to fix her husband with a hard stare before turning back to her cousin. “Can’t you drink a Coke instead?”
Renie brushed herself off. “If I have to.”
“Get it yourself,” Judith said, breaking an egg into the frying pan. “I haven’t had lunch yet.”
Renie had disappeared behind the fridge door. “Hey—you’ve only got diet pop! You know I won’t drink that stuff.”
“It’s not my fault you never gain an ounce while I have to check the scale every day,” Judith declared. “Go ahead, suffer. Why don’t you get a glass of water, you little pig?”
“No.” Renie shut the fridge and stomped back to the kitchen table. “I’d rather suffer. Hurry up, make that list. I’m not telling you what I found out until I’ve got some Pepsi. Ha ha.”
Judith nodded at Joe. “Start writing.”
“I haven’t had dessert,” Joe protested.
“You don’t need dessert at lunch,” Judith snapped. “And don’t give me a dirty look. I noticed you’d moved your belt down a notch the other day. Do you really want to look like the late Dan McMonigle?”
“Gee,” Joe mumbled, “somebody’s crabby today.” But he got up and fetched a tablet from the counter. “Go ahead. I’m set.”
Judith flipped the egg before she started rattling off items. She was still adding to the list by the time she sat down across from Joe. He was halfway through the tablet’s second page before she finished.
“I’m off,” he said. “I’ll get caught up later on what Renie was doing before she ended up in the hedge.”
As Joe left the kitchen from one direction, Ruby entered from the other. “Hi, Serena,”
she said, sitting in the chair Joe had vacated. “It sounds like a busy place in here. I’ve been in the living room starting my new journal. Did your cousin tell you my other one got snatched?”
“I think that was mentioned in the recap,” Renie said. “But why? Did you have a lot of lurid secrets in it?”
Ruby snorted. “I should be so lucky. I didn’t write in it every day. I only put down stuff like . . . what do you call it? Musings, maybe, about my life and whatever was bothering me at the moment.”
Renie scowled. “Like not having any Pepsi?”
Ruby laughed. “No. Usually it was my love life—or lack of it. Sometimes I wrote about whatever job I had. No really important stuff.”
Judith swallowed a bite of her sandwich. “How far back did the missing journal go?”
Ruby thought for a minute. “A year, maybe two?”
“Did you ever write about your mother’s murder?” Renie asked.
“Not until recently,” Ruby replied, then looked at Judith. “I jotted down some stuff about how you’d fingered the killer in Little Bavaria and maybe you could take on my mom’s murder. No names, though.”
Judith nodded. “But the killer—if he or she is still around—wouldn’t know that. Nobody would, until they read it.”
Ruby looked alarmed. “You really think the killer took my purse? Does that mean one of the Frosches could have murdered my mom? That’s just too crazy!”
“I won’t say that,” Judith said. “I’m not dismissing Tyler Dooley’s account about your purse, but we don’t have all the facts.”
“Fine, I’ll talk,” Renie grumbled. “If Joe’s like Bill when it comes to grocery shopping, he won’t be back until after dinner. Do we ask men to read all the labels on every package and can?”
Judith shook her head. “I don’t know that Joe does—”
“Never mind,” Renie broke in. “First of all, Brick or Bernard or whatever is recovering, listed in still-alive condition. Elma went into a diabetic coma and died. She’s had the disease for years. Heart failure, they think. No autopsy requested. Apparently, she wasn’t very careful about her diet or her injections. Lainie didn’t seem overcome with grief, though she wasn’t blatantly callous. I got the impression she didn’t know the senior Frosches very well. No wedding ring, so she probably isn’t Mrs. Frosch the Younger. This is her first visit here. End of report.”
“Hmm,” Judith murmured. “Not bad. Nothing about the purse?”
Renie scowled. “Jeez, how much did you expect me to get out of her in five minutes?”
“Okay, okay,” Judith said, trying to keep her temper. “Who did you say the bouquet had come from?”
“The neighbors,” Renie replied.
Judith finished her sandwich. “Can I fix you something?” she asked her cousin.
“Are you kidding?” Renie retorted. “I didn’t eat breakfast until almost eleven. You know I don’t wake up until ten if I can help it.”
“Right,” Judith said. “I thought you might have had an off-day.”
“Nope.” Renie stood up. “Now, how am I going to get back through the hedge to retrieve Cammy? I’ve got to go down to the florist’s and get the blasted bouquet for the wedding.” She paused. “To hell with it. I’ll tell them to make up another bouquet and deliver it with the rest of the floral decorations. See you later.” She headed for the back door.
Ruby’s mobile face showed concern after Renie left. “What if she gets stuck again?”
“Then we’ll have to rescue her,” Judith said. “I suspect she’ll brazen it out and just walk around the end of the hedge and hope Lainie isn’t posted at the window. I wonder if Mr. Frosch is working or if he’s making funeral arrangements. I didn’t see his car when I made my aborted neighborly call.”
“You know,” Ruby said, her hands propping up her chin, “I think we should abort this whole deal. I mean, all I’ve done is cause you guys a lot of trouble. I feel like one big cloud of gloom and doom. I come to this neighborhood and the next thing I know people are getting killed and run over and stuck in hedges. You wanted to retire, and I screwed that up, too. Maybe I should head back home today instead of tomorrow.”
Judith held up her hands in protest. “No. Look what your arrival in the Thurlow District did. You stirred things up. Who snatches a purse and doesn’t take the money? You lost your memory, which leads me to believe someone deliberately drugged you. We can’t stop now. There’s a connection between your mom and the Frosches. Yes, it’s possible that Mrs. Frosch died of natural causes and that their son wasn’t run down deliberately, but I have my doubts, at least about Brick’s accident. In fact,” Judith said, standing up, “let’s drive out to the Thurlow District. I should go down memory lane, painful as it might be.”
To Judith’s surprise, Ruby emphatically shook her head. “No. I don’t want to do that. My trip was a disaster. Is there anything I can do here? I mean, like check records or something on the computer?”
“Well . . .” Judith considered the idea. “Yes. Some vital statistics are free. Why not start with the Frosches? If you come across a site that requires a fee, I’ll give you my credit card number to pay for it.”
Ruby’s blue eyes widened. “You’d trust me to do that?”
“Yes, of course.”
Ruby smiled wanly. “I’m not used to people who trust other people. Or maybe I was a gullible kid and learned the hard way.”
“The Thurlow District wasn’t an ideal locale for trustworthiness,” Judith said ruefully, thinking back to her own experiences. “We never really got into Woody’s case notes last night. I’ll take a set with me and make some other notes about your own recollections.” She picked up the tablet that Joe had used for the grocery list, but the phone rang before she could start writing.
“Tyler D, as in Detective here,” the teenager said in a hushed voice. “The telescope can take in the rental and the yard. But the bare branches of the cherry trees out back block some of the view.”
“Oh!” Judith said. “I forgot about those.” The last time she’d thought about the cherry trees, a dead body had been deposited under one of them. “Have you seen anything interesting?” she inquired.
“Not yet, but I’m on the case. Or will be until I have to play in the band at the high school football game tonight.”
“Okay, keep me posted,” Judith said. “I’m going out for a while, but Ruby’s standing by.”
“Got it,” Tyler responded. “Over and out.”
Judith relayed the information to Ruby, who seemed amused. “He’s serious,” she remarked.
“Yes,” Judith agreed, starting to write down the names of the Frosches. “His brothers took sleuthing very seriously, too.”
“Are you going to the Thurlow District by yourself?” Ruby asked.
“Well . . .” Judith glanced at the schoolhouse clock. It was a quarter after one. “Maybe Renie will go with me. She should be home soon. I’ll give her a call. Joe never mentioned trying to get hold of The Persian Cat’s owner.” She paused, tapping a finger against her cheek. “That’s my first stop.” She dialed her cousin’s number.
A breathless Renie answered on the fourth ring. “I just got home. Now what?”
“Want to go for a ride with me?”
“Hoo boy, that’s a loaded question. Where?”
Judith grimaced before replying. “My old neighborhood.”
“Ha! Either you’re kidding or you’re nuts. No thanks. Think I’ll go chew on some aluminum foil instead.”
“Hey, the Thurlow District has gone upscale. Well . . . semi-upscale.”
“That wouldn’t be hard to do. You mean they no longer have the nightly rolling of the drunks down the main street and they did away with weekend rodent patrol?”
“Coz, really—it’s not like it used to be,” Judith asserted. “Yes, I haven’t been out there since I moved back home, but you know that most of this city has been going through gentrification in the past couple of decades, incl
uding the Thurlow District. Please?”
“You need a guard, right? Should I arm myself? Bill’s Desert Eagle would probably come in handy.”
“Oh, for heaven’s . . . are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, I’ll come if only because I don’t want you going alone. I gather Ruby isn’t accompanying you?”
“No. She’s doing some research.”
“I hope it doesn’t include the really dangerous parts of the Thurlow District. You’ll have to pick me up. Bill needs the car. He’s taking Oscar to check out the new firing range across the lake. Maybe Oscar will shoot off a few rounds with the Desert Eagle.”
“Stop. I’ll collect you in ten minutes. I have to change first.”
“Into what? A prison uniform so you’ll fit right into the old hood?”
Judith hung up.
I’m not armed,” Renie announced when she got into Judith’s Subaru. “Unless you count my nail scissors.”
“I do,” Judith said, pulling out onto the steep hill in front of the Jones residence. “I remember when you and Bill went to see some arty French movie and the jerk next to you grabbed your leg. Bill was so caught up in the film that you didn’t want to bother him, so you stabbed the guy with those scissors.”
“Bill understood that movie and I didn’t,” Renie said. “I knew he’d be upset if I distracted him, so I decided to handle the situation myself. Turned out that though Bill understood the concept, he thought the movie sucked scissors. Not my scissors, but in a metaphorical—”
“Skip it,” Judith said, heading for the major thoroughfare that would take them south to the Thurlow District. “I know the story. I mean the one about the jerk.”
“Right. The movie didn’t seem to have a story. It was all nuance and symbolism about the human condition. Or maybe it was about prune farming. Hey, what’s our plan and why isn’t Ruby part of it?”