by Mary Daheim
“Is it doable?” Rosemary inquired as the crime-scene team looked uneasily at their surroundings in the entry hall.
“Yes,” Judith said after a pause. She hated to move the Blisses and the Kasakis, but she didn’t have much choice. “I’ll call my main resource.”
Ingrid Heffelman, Judith’s nemesis at the state B&B association answered the phone.
“What now, Flynn?” Ingrid demanded sarcastically. “Did you get another guest bumped off?”
“It didn’t happen inside the house,” Judith retorted.
Ingrid’s sharp intake of breath could be heard over the line. “No! Even you couldn’t have that happen again! Honestly, I’m beginning to think your license should be yanked. In fact, you seem to have a license to kill, just like James Bond.”
“It’s not my fault,” Judith contended, her dander raised. “What am I supposed to do? Have my guests fill out a form stating that they have no homicidal intentions?”
“That’s a thought,” Ingrid snapped. “Or maybe they don’t have them until after they’ve checked in to Hillside Manor. You’re a ghoul, Flynn, the archangel of death in the nether-world of innkeepers.”
“I don’t need to hear this right now,” Judith declared. “Can you help me or not?”
“Do I have a choice?” Ingrid snarled. “I can’t have B&B clients sleeping on park benches or in Dumpsters. I’ll get back to you. But I’m calling a meeting of the state board. You’ll come up for review.”
“Swell,” Judith said, and hung up just as the doorbell rang again. A very pale Taryn Moss asked if she could come in and collect the leftover liquor from the previous evening. “Elsa will get it from us when she feels better.”
“I’m afraid you can’t take the bottles away,” Judith said. “Since the cause of Dolph’s death isn’t official, anything he had to eat or drink last night must be checked by the police. By the way, did you serve him food or drink when he stopped at your house yesterday? He seemed…a little off when he came back.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “He stayed just a few minutes both times. Dolph—” She broke off and twisted her hands together. “My dishes are here. There’s one of Olive’s, too—unless she picked it up earlier when she delivered Rudi’s flowers.”
“She didn’t,” Judith said.
“Oh, dear.” Taryn’s distress mounted. “Her serving dish is a family heirloom, dating back at least two hundred years. If anything happens to it, she’ll have a fit.”
“I’ll see that Olive gets it. How is Elsa, by the way?” Judith asked.
Taryn looked bleak. “Shaken, but recovering.”
Judith felt compelled to ask one more question. “And how is Rudi taking all this?”
“Rudi?” Taryn blinked several times. “He doesn’t know. I mean, he knows that Dolph died, but…” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Rudi can’t be disturbed before a performance. He’s upset about Dolph, of course. He worshiped his mentor. But Rudi has to put that aside until after the concert tonight. He’s so disciplined. Personal matters are out of the question when he’s performing publicly.”
“Amazing,” Judith said, trying to look suitably impressed. “His son isn’t musical, is he?”
“What?” Taryn seemed startled.
“Fritz. I don’t recall hearing anything about him being involved with music,” Judith explained.
“Oh.” Taryn looked relieved. “No. He likes music, but only in the way that his peer group likes it.”
Judith smiled kindly. “You’re not so far out of that peer group yourself.”
Taryn blushed. “The age difference between Rudi and me isn’t so large. I’m twenty-eight. What’s ten years, more or less?” She shrugged. “With Fritz, it’s like having a younger brother. Elsa is supermom. She dotes on Fritz, and vice versa. It’s better for me to back off. Family relationships can get complicated.” Taryn made a nervous gesture with one hand. “Especially this family,” she murmured.
“We all think our own family—or our spouse’s family—is a little…different,” Judith said. “It can be difficult.” She didn’t want to mention that the worst difficulty was the woman who owned the Wittener rental. I should be grateful to Rudi and Taryn, Judith thought. At least their presence translates as Herself’s absence. “Excuse me,” she said hastily. “The phone’s ringing.”
“Oh! I’m going.” Taryn hurried from the porch and all but ran across the cul-de-sac.
Ingrid had found two vacancies so far, for the Blisses and the Kasakis. Both were fine establishments in the heart of the city, and, Ingrid added acidly, no one had ever been murdered at either of them.
After hanging up, Judith realized that she hadn’t seen Joe since he’d been outside talking to Mercedes and Darnell. Maybe he was still working in the yard. Clouds had formed in the afternoon, but the air was pleasant and the sun wouldn’t set for at least another hour.
Tommy and Mitch had finished bagging the kitchen garbage. “We’ll have to do the rest of the rooms and the Dumpsters,” Mitch said. “Is anybody upstairs?”
“The victim’s widow is asleep in Room Three,” Judith replied. “Room Six is occupied. I’ll give you my master key for the other rooms. Oh—my cleaning woman is doing laundry in the basement. There’s a wastebasket there, but it contains mostly dryer lint and fabric softeners.”
“Got it,” Mitch said.
Judith pointed the pair toward the back stairs. Phyliss came up from the basement just as Mitch and Tommy were going down the hall.
“Have you been saved?” she asked, juggling a full laundry hamper.
“Pardon?” Tommy said.
Judith spoke up before Phyliss could continue. “They’re police. Don’t start evangelizing. They might arrest you for interfering with justice.”
“Hunh.” Phyliss eyed the young men warily. “What about freedom of religion?”
“Not now, Phyliss,” Judith warned as the forensics team headed upstairs.
“What’s that all about?” the cleaning woman demanded, setting the hamper down on the kitchen floor.
“Mr. Kluger’s death,” Judith explained. “Apparently, he was poisoned.”
“Aha!” Phyliss’s eyes lit up. “Lucifer’s on the loose around here again! I tell you, this is a godless place. You let too many sinners stay in this house.”
Judith opened her mouth to argue, but stopped before a word came out. The cleaning woman might be a bigoted religious fanatic, but she was beginning to wonder if Phyliss wasn’t right. Hillside Manor seemed to attract more than its share of sinners, especially the kind who broke the commandment “Thou shalt not kill.”
Judith returned to the parlor just as the interview with Suzanne Farrow ended. Morgenstern’s parting shot was a stern admonition to have Mrs. Kluger available by eight-thirty the next morning. A grim-looking Suzanne left the room without so much as a glance at Judith.
“Not very helpful,” Rosemary declared. “Ms. Farrow claims everybody adored her stepfather.”
“That’s a bit odd,” Judith said, remaining near the door in case some of her guests returned from their activities. “Dolph Kluger was a man who could make—or break—aspiring musicians. People like that always have enemies. Rivals, too.”
Rosemary nodded vigorously. “Exactly. You are marvelous.”
“No,” Judith said, “I’m not. It’s only logical. Apparently he was a very influential man in the music world. He must have offended numerous people over the years. The problem is, we don’t know if any of the disaffected were at the party.”
Morgenstern, who had been using his inhaler, cleared his throat. “Frankly, I wouldn’t think the party attendees included that type. We’re going to talk to the former Mrs. Wittener and her son after we interview Taryn Moss. Rudi Wittener won’t be available until tonight’s concert is over.”
Darnell Hicks tapped on the doorframe. “Excuse me,” he said, looking apologetic. “We just had a robbery report phoned in.”
Morgenstern coughed twice before responding. “If you’re done here, go ahead.” He scowled at Darnell, who remained standing in the doorway. “Well? What’s keeping you?” the detective demanded. “The thief may still be on the premises or in the neighborhood. Why aren’t you going to the robbery site?”
Darnell looked pained. “I’m already there,” he said. “The theft took place at Hillside Manor. A Mrs. Serena Jones made the call.”
Judith wanted to strangle Renie. Granted, credit-card theft was a serious crime. But it wasn’t murder, and Judith still had doubts about her cousin’s insistence that the robbery had taken place at the B&B. Renie was inclined to get rattled under certain circumstances. In recent weeks, she’d left her car keys at the bank, forgotten to retrieve her expensive sunglasses from Goliath’s Bagels, and pulled out from Falstaff’s parking lot with her handbag on the Camry’s roof.
“That’s my cousin Renie,” Judith informed Darnell. “You remember her. She thinks someone got into her purse while she was here last night. Frankly, I can’t imagine any of the guests doing it.”
“But,” Darnell pointed out, “one of them may have killed Kluger.”
Judith sighed. “You know perfectly well that homicide and unarmed robbery are very different types of crimes.”
“That’s right,” Rosemary chimed in. “What about your other guests? The ones who weren’t associated with the Kluger party?”
Judith shook her head. “They weren’t around when my cousin was here, and she left before they returned. In fact, Mrs. Jones spent all of her time in the kitchen with—” Judith stopped. “Actually, she went outside for a few minutes when the emergency vehicles showed up for Elsa.” And then forgot her purse and had to come back. “Damn,” she said under her breath.
Rosemary heard her. “What?”
The phone rang, sparing Judith an answer. Ingrid had found two more vacancies, all located fairly close to downtown.
“Thank you,” Judith said in genuine gratitude. “Am I still up for court-martial?”
“You bet,” Ingrid said. “Just as soon as I can get everybody together.”
Resignedly, Judith went upstairs to inform the women from Kansas City that they would have to move.
“But we’re unpacked,” the taller of the two said. “We were going to rest and come down for the social hour.”
“It’s been canceled,” Judith admitted. “I’m terribly sorry. We have an unforeseeable crisis here. Really, you’ll be much more comfortable at the Bee’s Nest. I’ll pay your cab fare. It’s not far.”
Neither woman was appeased. “We won’t be back,” the shorter woman snapped. “You came highly recommended. I can’t think why.”
Judith apologized again, but the departing guests remained annoyed. Next on her unpleasant to-do list was a call to the airport, requesting that the couple from Philadelphia be paged when their flight arrived. After she hung up, the Kasakis came through the front door.
They accepted the move with only mild displeasure. Luckily, they didn’t demand an explanation other than Judith’s glib, if vague, mention of illness. Renie might have had her checking account tapped out for a few hundred bucks, but Judith had already lost at least six hundred dollars for a single night. There’d be more money down the drain if the crime scene wasn’t cleared by Friday. She was booked through the weekend, and that didn’t count the Kluger rooms, which should have been vacated by then.
When she got back to the parlor, Morgenstern was on his way out. “We’re done here,” he said, scratching at his hands, “except for the forensics team. That’ll take a while. My partner is outside with them now, seeing what they found in the Dumpsters.”
“Fine,” Judith said tersely. “Good luck.”
Dutifully, she followed the detective to the front door. The Blisses were ascending the porch stairs. Just as she moved to greet them, Judith heard a scream. Morgenstern froze on the sidewalk, the Blisses paused in midstep, and Judith swerved in the direction of the cry. A moment later, Rosemary came charging around the corner of the house.
“They’ve found another body!” she shouted. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, gagging.
“No!” Judith was stunned. It was impossible.
She saw Mitch and Tommy hurrying up behind Rosemary. “Not human,” Tommy called out. “It’s an animal.”
“Rookies,” Morgenstern breathed. “They can’t tell an ox from a human.”
“It’s not an ox,” Judith asserted. “It’s a deer.”
Rosemary stopped in her tracks next to the flower bed by the porch. “A deer? You mean—like Bambi?”
“No,” Judith said. “Not at all like Bambi. A vicious deer, a bunny killer, a deer that sucks the breath.”
Rosemary clapped her hands to her face. “You mean—like cats are supposed to do with babies?”
Wheezing a bit, Morgenstern stepped between the two women. “Enough. Mrs. Flynn, do you have a hunting license?”
“I didn’t shoot the deer,” Judith replied staunchly. “My husband isn’t a hunter, either.” She explained about the guest who had left the venison meat in the freezer.
Morgenstern’s reddened eyes narrowed at Judith. “I see.”
Judith wasn’t sure that he did, but she kept her mouth shut. The Blisses, she noted, were looking horrified.
“But another body?” they both echoed, clinging to each other.
Judith tried to assume a kindly expression. “You heard my explanation. It’s venison by any other name.”
“But what about the other…” the not-so-blissful Bliss bride started to say before Judith held up a hand.
“Unfortunately, one of our guests—an older man—died last night.” Judith took each of the Blisses by the hand and led them onto the porch. “He was quite famous in the music world, and since this is a commercial establishment, there has to be an investigation. I’m terribly sorry, but you’re going to have to stay at another B&B tonight. I’ve already made the arrangements. Let’s go inside so I can give you the information.”
The Blisses were no longer clinging to each other. Instead, they were glaring at Judith—and then at each other. “You picked this place,” Mrs. Bliss said to her groom. “I told you I’d do it.”
“It was recommended,” Mr. Bliss said in a defensive tone, “by one of your idiot friends at the university…”
The bickering Blisses took their argument inside the house. Judith let them go. She could sort out the details when they’d calmed down. Going back down the steps, she saw Mitch approaching the lead detective. He was holding an evidence bag in his gloved hands.
“We found this in the Dumpster, sir,” he said.
Morgenstern frowned at the bag, which appeared to contain some kind of greenery. “What is it?”
Tommy reached inside his jacket and took out a piece of paper. “We got the tox report just before we got here. The poison was a combination of oxalic acid, potassium, calcium oxalates, and anthraquinone glycosides. The combination comes from rhubarb leaves. That’s what we found in the Dumpster.”
Morgenstern turned to Judith. “Did you cook with rhubarb in the last few days?”
Rhubarb, Judith thought. Why did it ring a bell? “No,” she replied. “I never do. Anyway, it’s past its prime around here by early September.”
“Do you grow it?” Morgenstern asked.
Judith shook her head. “No.” Rhubarb. Something was tickling her brain. “Our neighbors do.” The Porters, the Ericsons, and the Dooleys were always trying to foist off their extra rhubarb on the other neighbors. Like zucchini squash, the crops flourished in local gardens.
“Did your guests use rhubarb for their party food?”
Rhubarb. The stalky stuff was driving her crazy. “Not that I know of,” Judith said, “though most of the food was brought in already made.”
Mitch gestured toward the crime-lab vehicle parked at the curb. “We’ve collected the dirty plates and dishes along with the liquor bottles and whatever else we could f
ind that may’ve been connected to the party,” he informed his superior.
“Good.” Morgenstern sneezed once. He turned back to Judith. “Have you washed any of the glasses or dishes from last night?”
It was a question Judith had been dreading. “Yes. I washed my own serving items—glasses, serving dishes, silverware. I have to run the dishwasher at least twice a day for my B&B.”
“Too bad,” Morgenstern murmured before signaling to Rosemary. “Let’s go.”
Rhubarb. Judith watched the detectives cross the cul-desac to the Wittener house.
Rhubarb. Judith remembered.
Renie had carried a stalk of rhubarb in her purse.
SEVEN
“WHAT,” JUDITH DEMANDED on the phone, “did you do with that rhubarb you were carrying around in your handbag?”
“I tossed it,” Renie replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Where? When?”
“Ohhh…yesterday.” Renie paused. “At your house, actually. I was looking for a stick of gum and I noticed I still had the damned rhubarb in my purse, so I chucked it in your garbage under the sink.”
“It had leaves on it, right?”
“Right. That was the whole point for my artwork,” Renie said impatiently. “I wanted to render the entire plant. Why do you care? Why aren’t you dusting for prints to see who stole my credit cards?”
“Because that’s what Darnell and Mercedes are doing right now,” Judith retorted, glancing from the entry hall into the living room, where the officers were working. “You never had your purse anywhere but the kitchen, did you?”
“No,” Renie replied. “They’re wasting their time if they’re going around the rest of the house. What’s with the rhubarb?”
“It seems that rhubarb leaves were used to poison Dolph Kluger,” Judith explained.