Gingerdead Man

by Maya Corrigan

  Granddad enlarged the part showing the table where Jewel and Jake had sat. “It’s to the left of her plate, next to Jake’s cup.” He reduced the size of the photo again.

  “Unlike the other cups at the table, hers was positioned with the handle on the left side.” A possible explanation for the cup’s position occurred to Val. “Did you notice if Jewel is left-handed, Granddad?”

  “Yes. She was jotting notes with her left hand when we looked at Jake’s files. I watched her because I wondered how she could write with her long talons.” He wiggled his fingers. “She must have moved her cup to the left after she sat down.”

  The photo showed another change that had occurred during the tea. Sitting on Jake’s left, across from Jewel, Holly had moved everything near her beyond the range of Jake’s coughs and sneezes. At a table that was snug for six people, Holly had crowded next to Franetta.

  Val focused on the gift bags. Jake’s bag was lying sideways on the table, next to his water glass. The remaining five bags were upright and distributed around the table, but with more of them at Granddad’s end of the table than at Jake’s. She pointed to the place where Granddad had sat. “You could reach two gift bags from your seat. Which did you think was yours?”

  “I wasn’t sure. The one on the left was closer, but the one on the right was near my glass and cup. It’s the same problem you have with bread plates at a small table. Nobody knows which plate is theirs until the first person to take bread makes the decision.”

  And Jake was the first to choose a gift bag. “The photo shows everyone can easily reach either of two bags except Jewel. The nearest gift bag to her is closer to Shantell’s plate.” Val got up from the arm of Granddad’s chair. “I have to call Irene. She poured the tea and might have noticed the position of Jewel’s cup.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “When Jewel moved it might matter.” Val fetched her phone from the study, apologized to Irene for calling so late, and said she had a few questions for her. Val put the phone on Speaker so Granddad could hear. “As I remember it, you didn’t pour the tea on Saturday night until after the costumed visitor left the gift bags.”

  “That’s right.”

  “When you poured Jewel’s tea, were her cup and saucer in the usual spot?”

  “Why on earth would I remember that? Oh. Actually, I do. I was reaching out to pour when she moved her cup. She said she liked holding it in her left hand.”

  Now for the key question. “Did she move anything else?”

  “She had to push a gift bag out of the way to make room for her cup.”

  So the gift bag had been to the left of Jewel’s plate until then. “Did she put it where the cup and saucer had been?”

  “No, she just nudged the bag away. Toward Jake, as best I can recall.”

  Yes! Val wished she could high-five her assistant manager over the phone. Irene had turned the investigation into Jake’s death in a new direction. “Thank you, Irene, you have no idea how helpful that is.”

  “I sure don’t. If you’ve got more questions, wait until tomorrow to ask them. I’m going to bed now.”

  “Good night, and thanks again.” Val hung up and glanced at Granddad’s photo of the table. No doubt about it. Everything they’d thought about Jake’s death had been wrong. “I think Jewel was supposed to eat the poisoned cookie, not Jake.”

  Granddad tipped his head to one side and then the other, weighing her conclusion. “Explain.”

  “The ghost put a gift bag to the left of each plate, above the fork. There was no room for the bag on the right side of the plates because the glasses and teacups were there. When Holly shifted her setting away from Jake, she moved his gift bag too, probably assuming it was hers.”

  “So he took the gingerdead man from the only bag near him, which Jewel had pushed toward him.” Granddad poked at his phone. “We gotta tell Earl. He may want Jewel watched. She could be in danger.”

  “It’s been five days since Jake died. Two people have been poisoned since then, and Jewel wasn’t one of them. If she was supposed to be the victim at the tea, why hasn’t the murderer tried again?”

  “Maybe he wanted to, but couldn’t. Remember the man in a jogging suit Jewel saw near her house on Sunday morning? He looked familiar to her. He ran off when the police arrived. That could have been the poisoner, who’s staying away from her now because the police have been there a few times since then.”

  Granddad might be right. The man across the street on Sunday morning was another piece of the puzzle that had to fit somewhere. “You might as well call the chief. We’d both feel terrible if anything bad happened to Jewel and we hadn’t told the police she could have been the intended victim.”

  While Granddad left a voice mail for the chief, Val plopped into the armchair near the fireplace. Jewel had said the person who’d walked back and forth across the street from her house had worn a face-hiding hoodie. How does someone whose face you can’t see look familiar? Val remembered Chatty’s story about Jewel following Jake at the Annapolis boat show when he was with another man. Jewel had told Jake she recognized him by his walk. Maybe the man across the street had looked familiar to her for the same reason. She’d seen him before and noticed something distinctive about his walk. A swagger, a bounce, a trudge. Arms stiff, relaxed, or swinging.

  Like everyone else at the tea, Jewel had watched the ghost who delivered a poisoned cookie walk into the CAT Corner, circle the table, and cross the room to go out the back door. If the ghost thought his victim might recognize him by his walk, limping with the aid of a pebble would keep that from happening. But the ghost was still at large and not limping. Jewel might recognize him by his walk if she saw him again. And if that man was also tied to Oliver, the police would have reason to investigate him thoroughly.

  As Granddad put away his phone, she said, “The Frosts are having a get-together for Oliver’s friends and neighbors tomorrow night at seven. The houses there are set back from the street, and visitors will have a long walk to the front door. If Jewel stands across the street and watches people going in, she might see someone who looks familiar.”

  “It will be like a police lineup, only the suspects are in motion.” Granddad frowned. “But Jewel will be conspicuous hanging out or sitting in a car across the street.”

  “Not if she’s with you and Muffin. There’s nothing unusual about a man and a woman walking a dog.” Though Granddad and Jewel would go up and down the same street several times, they’d be less noticeable than a woman alone. “You’re probably the only person who can talk Jewel into this. She’s sweet on you.”

  He groaned. “I know people on Bellevue Avenue. They’ll see me, and word will get around that I was spending time with a woman.”

  Val understood. He was worried that Dorothy would hear about his woman friend. “No one will recognize you if you put on the outfit you used for your impersonation gig last January. Overcoat, driver’s cap, and frameless, tinted glasses instead of gold-rimmed bifocals. And Jewel should wear something frumpy that will make her less recognizable too.”

  “You want her to wear the olive-drab cloak?”

  Val laughed. “She’d never wear my invisibility cloak, but I’ll bet she has a new coat and hat she bought for winter here. And, of course, Muffin will wear her black hoodie.”

  “Are you sure Jewel will see someone who looks familiar going to the gathering?”

  “No. One person she won’t see walking into the house is Thatcher Frost. He’ll already be inside, greeting guests.” Val would have to work out another way for her to watch Thatcher in motion.

  “Is tomorrow two Fridays before Christmas?” When Val nodded, Granddad explained his question. “That’s when the Chamber of Commerce holds their Holiday Happy Hour at the Bugeye Tavern. I went to it for years. Councilman Thatcher Frost will be there for sure, but he’ll leave early to host his own gathering. If Jewel, Muffin, and I are in stakeout position by six thirty, we should see him going into his house
.”

  “Great, but don’t draw Jewel’s attention to him or anyone else. The investigator holding a lineup isn’t allowed to lead the witness.”

  “All I’ll do is alert her when someone is approaching the Frost house. You stay away from us. Just go straight inside. If you and I need to communicate, we’ll use a phone.”

  “Okay. We’ll have to tell the chief what we’re doing and why. He may think we’re wasting our time, but he’ll be annoyed if we don’t alert him.” Val crossed her legs, propped her elbow on her thigh, and rested her chin on her hand like The Thinker statue. “If Jewel was the intended victim, we have new avenues to explore. You and the police didn’t find any connection between the two victims, Jake and Oliver. Could there be a connection between Jewel and Oliver?”

  “Sure. She moved here two months ago. Nobody knows anything about her. This is just off the top of my head, but Jewel could be Oliver’s illegitimate daughter. She’s about the same age as his legit daughters. One of them coulda ordered a DNA profile and found out about this third daughter.”

  Val sat up straight. “That’s really far-fetched, Granddad, but for the sake of argument, did Jewel know she was Oliver’s daughter?”

  He shrugged. “Not necessarily, but nothing stops her from getting her DNA done. Everybody’s doing it. The family is worried she’ll worm her way into their father’s affections, he’ll change his will, and she’ll get a cut of the inheritance. Let’s say the son-in-law decided to get rid of her. But once the murder plot against her failed, it was easier to bump off Oliver.”

  Val was impressed by his imagination, but not convinced by his logic. “It’s too much of a coincidence that Jewel ended up in the same small town as the father who didn’t know she existed.” She stood up. “I’m holding out hope that tomorrow’s stakeout will give us some new information.”

  Chapter 23

  Val turned onto Belleview Avenue at seven on Friday evening. As her car approached the Frosts’ Victorian house, she glanced across the street and spotted Jewel in a camel coat and a wide-brimmed, black hat that hid the top half of her face. Granddad had pulled his driving cap low and his collar up. He stood at Jewel’s side, holding a leash as Muffin sniffed around a tree at the curb. With the streetlights far apart on this block, they could stroll along much of it in the shadows. They’d arrived earlier, so they must have walked back and forth several times by now.

  The area around the Frosts’ house was well-lit. Icicle lights hung from the front porch roof, and the path lights from the sidewalk to the door were closely spaced and bright. The house next door, Oliver Naiman’s, was dark except for a pale light from a lamp in the living room. Val drove farther down the street, made a U-turn, and parked a few doors from the Frost house.

  A silver compact sedan pulled into the driveway of Oliver Naiman’s house. Kevin and Cyndi emerged from it as Elaine came out of the house. She hugged her sister. The three of them walked to the Frosts’ house. Sitting in the car, Val watched other neighbors, including Holly, walk toward the memorial get-together and hoped Jewel was paying attention to the new arrivals.

  Granddad hadn’t been able to convince the widow that the killer tried to poison her. She was sure that the gift she’d moved toward Jake at the table Saturday night had been his, not hers. But she’d agreed to stand in the cold, watching people file into the Frosts’ house, to help the police identify Jake’s killer. Val suspected her real motive was to spend time with Granddad.

  The chief had reserved judgment on whether Jewel had been the intended victim. He hadn’t objected to Granddad and Jewel “dog walking” on Belleview Avenue, but warned them against going inside. He refused to assign an officer to patrol the area. Main Street would be crowded on a Friday night so close to the holidays. The Bayport Police would be busy directing traffic and possibly dealing with shoplifters.

  Val was climbing out of the car to go to the memorial get-together when she saw Jewel dart across the street and up the path to the Frosts’ house.

  She pulled out her phone and called Granddad. “What just happened? Jewel wasn’t supposed to go into the house.”

  “I couldn’t stop her. She said a couple of people looked familiar and she needed a closer look.”

  “Which people?”

  “She wouldn’t say. Twenty minutes ago Thatcher parked and went inside. She asked if he was Franetta’s husband. She also asked about the people who walked over from next door. When I told her they were Oliver Naiman’s daughters and his son-in-law, she wanted their names. She recognized Holly from the tea but had forgotten her name.”

  “No questions about anyone else?”

  “Nope. It’s possible no one looked familiar to her, and she went inside to warm up and eat the free food. She was complaining about the cold and asking me to take her to dinner.”

  “Are you warm enough, Granddad?”

  “Yup. I got on a lot of layers. Muffin and I will hang out here for a while.”

  “I’m going in. I’ll make sure she pours her own drinks and eats only what other people are eating.”

  When Val arrived at the Frosts’ door, Franetta invited her into a roomy entrance hall with a curved staircase, its banister decorated with evergreen garlands. “Cyndi told me she’d asked you to come tonight. So glad you could join us. I know the food won’t be as delicious as what you’d make, but platters from the deli and the bakery are the best I could manage on such short notice.”

  Val was relieved. Jewel would be safe as long as she chose her own food from the platters. “It’s kind of you to do this for the Naimans. Oliver would appreciate it.”

  “He was a sweet old guy.”

  Thatcher joined them in the hall. “Welcome to our home. May I take your coat?”

  “Yes, thank you.” As Val gave it to him, she glanced at his hands. Like many men, he wore a gold wedding band on his left hand. Nothing about his hands would identify him in bright light, much less in the dark.

  “Drinks are in the kitchen. You can go straight through here.” He pointed down the hallway toward the back of the house. “Or take the longer route through the living room and dining room.”

  Val glanced into the living room, where twenty or so guests had congregated. She recognized half of them as her café customers or prospective catering clients. Most of them wore conservative, casual clothes. Jewel was the exception in a red sweater with sequins along its plunging neckline, a black miniskirt, and the same thigh-high, black suede boots she’d worn as Mrs. Claus. Holding a plate of finger food, she stood near the fireplace, talking to Elaine Naiman.

  Val made her way toward them, stopping to speak a few words to the guests she knew.

  As she neared the fireplace, Jewel’s voice carried toward her.

  “It must have been a shock when your father died so suddenly,” Jewel said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Elaine looked puzzled. “How did you know my father?”

  “I never met him. I’m here to show my sympathy in a way no one else can. I understand what you’re going through because I just lost a loved one too. My husband was poisoned like your father.”

  Elaine gaped at her. “Poisoned with chocolates?”

  “No, it was a cookie that did in my husband. And I was right there when it happened, but I couldn’t do anything to help him.” Jewel pointed to Val. “She was there too.”

  Not the way Val wanted to be brought into the conversation. She stepped toward them.

  Elaine looked warily from Jewel to Val, as if facing conspirators. “Hello, Val. You didn’t mention you were on the spot at another poisoning.”

  Val heard an accusation, but of what? Knowing two poison victims and not informing the world? “Six people were there. The police asked us not to talk about it.”

  “I expected to see you here tonight because my sister invited you.” Elaine turned from Val to Jewel. “Who invited you?”

  Val cringed inwardly, anticipating that Jewel would name Granddad as t
he culprit.

  Cyndi swooped down on them, and her sister’s question went unanswered. “I’m glad you made it, Val.” She turned to Jewel. “I’m Cyndi, Oliver’s other daughter. Thank you for coming.”

  Jewel shifted her plate to her left hand and extended her right hand. “And I’m Jewel. Sorry about your father.”

  Her back was to the man who approached them with a glass of wine in each hand.

  “Excuse me,” Elaine said. “I see some old friends.” She drifted away.

  Cyndi took a wineglass from Kevin. “Jewel, this is my husband, Kevin.”

  Jewel peered up at him and smiled. “Hello. I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

  Kevin frowned. “I don’t think we’ve met before. Jewel is an unusual name. I’d have remembered it.”

  “I don’t recognize your name either, but I’ve definitely seen you somewhere.”

  Val would have stepped hard on Jewel’s foot to shut her up, but her foot was too far away. “That happens to me a lot, meeting a person who resembles someone I once knew.”

  Jewel stepped closer to Kevin as if she were nearsighted. “I’m sure I’ve seen you recently. Were you at the Annapolis boat show?”

  Cyndi laughed. “That’s like asking if the sun rises in the east. Kevin goes to every boat show he can.”

  “Just like my husband, Jake Smith. I think I saw you there with him.”

  Val cringed inwardly, but injecting herself into the conversation would serve no purpose. Jewel was nothing if not persistent as Jake had learned.

  “Jake Smith?” Kevin shook his head. “I never met him, but I talk to a lot of people at boat shows without knowing their names.”

  Jewel squinted at him. “You were wearing a baseball cap with an orange brim.”

  “Kevin has a hat like that,” his wife said.

  He shrugged. “So do a lot of other people who live around here.”

  Including Granddad. Val pictured in her mind his favorite Baltimore Orioles cap with the team’s nickname embroidered on it—O’s. Did the O in Jake’s calendar refer to the man he was meeting not by name—Jake had trouble remembering names—but by the big O on his hat?