by Mary Daheim
“Was it valuable?” Judith inquired, moving to the hearth.
“Fairly,” he said. “It was a Trinity bracelet from Cartier, three kinds of gold linked together. It cost around five thousand dollars.”
“Did Taryn lose the bracelet the night of the party?” Judith asked.
“Ah…” Rudi scowled. “It must have been lost that night.”
Judith couldn’t remember if she’d seen Taryn wearing the bracelet. All she recalled were her clothes—the peasant blouse and velvet pants. “The police bagged a number of items as possible evidence,” she explained. “Have you checked with them about the bracelet?”
Rudi and Suzanne exchanged swift glances. “No,” Rudi said. “That is, how could a bracelet be evidence?”
Judith shrugged. “Taryn was in the kitchen. It might have fallen off and ended up in the garbage by mistake. All the trash receptacles were considered evidence because Mr. Kluger’s death has been determined a poisoning.”
Suzanne was shaking her head. “No one would poison him on purpose. It had to be an accident.”
“Of course,” Rudi agreed. “Elsa was lucky. Dolph wasn’t.” His expression was pained.
Judith sat down in one of the straight-backed chairs in front of the fireplace. “Excuse me. I don’t understand. What do you mean about your former wife being lucky?”
Rudi gave Judith a curious look. “She didn’t die.”
“But,” Judith said, “I thought she merely fainted.”
Rudi shook his head. “They took some tests at the hospital. The results came back only this morning, shortly before noon. She was poisoned, too.”
Shocked, Judith leaned forward in the chair. “By rhubarb?”
“A distillation of rhubarb leaves,” Rudi replied. “Apparently, she ate or drank a much smaller quantity. She’s also younger.”
Judith’s mind was whirling inside her head. What if Dolph hadn’t been the intended victim? Or even Elsa, for that matter? “Can you recall exactly what was served the other night?”
Rudi couldn’t remember, except for a cheese he’d never tried before. “It was a French Gratte-Paille—a very sharp triple crème. Delicious.” Rudi licked his lips.
Hopefully, Judith looked at Suzanne, who was now leaning against the fireplace mantel.
“There were several cheeses,” Suzanne said, frowning in concentration. “Olive brought most of them, I believe. She had also made a spinach-and-cheese quiche. Taryn provided fresh vegetables and fruit. Three kinds of dip with crackers—Taryn again, I think. Elsa had a prawn-and-cocktail-sauce plate from a local deli, Cuban coffee, herb tea, and puff pastries with chicken and herbs in cream sauce.”
“What about the liquor?” Judith asked.
Suzanne gazed at Rudi. “I’m not sure.”
He started to shake his head, then stopped. “Elsa had Fritz make a trip to the liquor store and the local wine shop. She gave him a list.”
“So,” Judith pointed out, “I assume the police have found out about Elsa’s lab results. What they’ll want to know is what Elsa and Dolph ate or drank that was the same—and that nobody else had.”
“My stepfather drank wine,” Suzanne said. “He preferred a 1985 Fritz Haag Brauneberger Juffer-Sonnenuhr Riesling.”
Judith had never heard of it, but with an age and a name like that, it had to be expensive. “And Elsa?” she inquired.
“I’m not sure what she drank that evening,” Rudi said vaguely.
“Whatever happened to Yosemite Sam at two bucks a bottle?”
The question came from the doorway, where Renie stood with a bemused expression and a pear in her hand.
“Coz!” Judith exclaimed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I thought I’d check on my patient,” Renie said, entering the parlor and flopping down in the other straight-backed chair. “I had to go to the post office to collect our food stamps.”
Judith assumed Renie was kidding, but Suzanne and Rudi both regarded her with something akin to disapproval.
“What patient?” Suzanne asked after an awkward pause.
Renie gestured toward the living room. “Gregory Whoozits in there. He’s sleeping like a log. I guess he doesn’t want this.” She took a big bite out of the pear. “Wassuh?” she asked with her mouth full. She nodded at Rudi. “Yulukafle.”
Judith was used to translating her cousin’s words when Renie was eating. “Rudi looks awful because he was attacked by a big orange-and-white cat.”
“Rewy?” Renie’s expression was innocent while pear juice dripped onto her bosom.
“Come into the kitchen, coz,” Judith said, getting up. “You need a napkin. Or a bib.”
By the time Judith had explained the latest news, Renie had finished the pear and opened a Pepsi. A steady rain had started to fall. The schoolhouse clock showed that it was exactly three o’clock on this darkening autumn afternoon.
“It must have been something that both Dolph and Elsa ate,” Judith reasoned. “Dolph had brandy after Elsa passed out.”
“But what did they both eat that nobody else did?” Renie asked, finally mopping herself up with a paper napkin.
“I sort of recall Elsa with a snifter,” Judith said, taking a Diet 7-Up out of the fridge. “She may have had brandy, too. Rudi’s vague about the food.”
“Elsa knows what she ate and drank,” Renie pointed out. “Maybe Andrea kept track of what her husband was eating. She seemed like the attentive-wife type. Why don’t you ask her?”
“I haven’t even seen her,” Judith said in a frustrated tone. “She’s been holed up in that bedroom ever since the morning after the murder.”
“So go up there and let yourself in,” Renie urged. “Want me to come with you?”
“I doubt that Estelle—the maid—will let us in.”
Renie shrugged. “It’s your B&B. Tell her it’s a safety check.”
Judith considered the idea. “Okay. What have I got to lose?”
The cousins took the back stairs. The second-floor hall was quiet. Estelle apparently had taken her luggage into Room One. Judith approached Room Three with a purposeful stride and knocked twice.
“Innkeeper,” she said in a loud voice.
There was no immediate response. The only sound was the rain, spattering against the tall window above the second landing of the main staircase. The day had grown gloomy, with dense gray clouds rolling in from the mountains. A thunderstorm might be in the offing.
As Judith raised her hand to knock again, the door opened a scant two inches. Estelle peered out with suspicious eyes. “What is it?” she asked in a low, impatient tone.
“It’s the last Friday of the month,” Judith said in a businesslike voice. “We always conduct our safety inspection at this time. City regulations,” she added, compounding the fib.
“Not now,” Estelle said. “Come back later. Madam’s asleep. I’ll inform you when she’s awake.”
Renie elbowed Judith aside. “Sorry. This can’t wait. I’m the inspector. I go off the job at four, like any good city employee working an arduous six-hour day. Move it.”
“Excuse me?” Estelle cried softly. “You can’t barge in here!”
“Watch me.” Renie kicked at the door, which flew open and hit Estelle in the upper arm.
Judith followed her cousin into the commodious bedroom. A huddled form lay in the king-size bed. Renie marched around, studying every nook and cranny. Judith stayed next to Estelle, who was fuming.
“Safety indeed!” the maid muttered. “What kind of safety do you provide, Mrs. Flynn? My employer’s husband died here!”
“Not exactly,” Judith whispered. “He collapsed on the sidewalk.”
Renie went into the bathroom. Estelle scowled. “That woman doesn’t seem like an inspector. She’s wearing tattered clothes. She looks like a homeless person.”
“We’re far more casual out here on the West Coast,” Judith said. “This city invented grunge.”
“Nothing to be pr
oud of,” Estelle declared. “Poor Madam!” The maid’s eyes were now fixed on the bed. “She’s a complete wreck.”
“I’d really like to talk to her,” Judith said with concern. “I’ve been remiss.”
“Madam mustn’t be disturbed. Doctor’s orders.” Estelle glanced toward the bathroom door, which was closed. “What’s that person doing in there?”
“Don’t ask,” Judith murmured.
The maid suddenly looked alarmed. “Have you been in my room?”
“Not yet,” Judith answered.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No need.”
“I insist.”
Renie finally emerged from the bathroom. “All clear,” she said.
“Estelle wants to join us when we inspect her room,” Judith said.
“Sure,” Renie agreed. “Where are you?”
The maid informed Renie that she was staying in Room One. “Let’s do it,” Renie said.
Judith started to follow the other two women out through the door. But her cousin stopped abruptly in the hallway. “Hold it,” Renie said. “Mrs. Flynn, do me a favor. I left my pen in the bathroom. Would you get it for me?”
“Of course,” Judith said.
“You didn’t have a pen,” Estelle said in an accusing tone.
“Don’t get smart with me,” Renie snapped, grabbing Estelle by the arm. “Come on, let’s hit it. I haven’t got all day. There’s beer to be drunk and pretzels to eat and…”
Judith didn’t hear the rest of Renie’s spiel. She hurried back inside the room and went to the big bed. She could barely see Andrea’s ash-blond hair above the blue comforter. The woman’s breathing seemed rather shallow. Judith hesitated, then gently prodded Andrea.
There was no response. Judith called her name. Nothing, only the rain and the wind in the trees. Frowning, she gave the bedclothes a good shake. No reaction. She could just make out part of Andrea’s profile, from forehead to lips. Without makeup, she was very pale.
Judith heard Renie and Estelle talking in the hall. Apparently, they were finished with the so-called inspection of Room One. Judith hurried to open the door.
“You must have left your pen downstairs,” Judith said. “I couldn’t find it.”
“Hunh,” said Renie. “Oh, well. Let’s move on.” She started down the narrow passageway that led to the smallest of the accommodations, Room Two.
“That bathroom between Andrea and Suzanne’s rooms has more drugs than Holliday’s pharmacy,” Renie said when they were well out of earshot. “Over-the-counter as well as a clutch of prescription drugs issued by a New York doctor.”
“Such as?”
“Mostly sleeping pills, antidepressants, and tranquilizers,” Renie replied. “I can’t remember all the names, but I know what they’re for.”
Judith nodded. “That explains it. Andrea is drugged to the eyeballs. I wonder why?”
“Because she really is a wreck?” Renie suggested.
“Possibly. But,” Judith went on in a worried tone, “I wonder if it’s in somebody’s interest to keep her that way.”
THIRTEEN
THE COUSINS WAITED to finish their discussion until they returned to the kitchen.
“The obvious suspect in drugging Andrea is Suzanne,” Renie declared, retrieving her Pepsi from the table.
“Definitely,” Judith agreed. “She’s the one who picked up the prescription refills. Of course, her motives might be pure. Maybe Andrea really is an emotional wreck. I don’t blame her.”
“She was a wreck before Dolph was killed,” Renie pointed out. “Otherwise, the pills wouldn’t be refills, which they are. You can tell from the labels.”
Renie’s back was to the swinging doors that led to the dining room. Judith raised one finger to signal quiet and leaned slightly out of her chair. Suzanne entered the kitchen. “Can I help you, Suzanne?” she inquired.
“Rudi has left the B&B,” Suzanne said.
Renie swiveled around. “Is this an announcement, like Elvis has left the building?”
“Of course not,” Suzanne asserted. “I merely wanted to let you know. I’m going for a run. I expect that Gregory will also have left by the time I get back. It’s not safe to let him stay here. Trust me.” She turned away and headed for the front door.
“I don’t trust her,” Judith declared. “Supposedly, her mother has been making funeral arrangements. I don’t know how, when she’s virtually in a coma. And another thing—Suzanne says she owns a gym or a health club in Manhattan. Yet I’ve never once heard her mention anything specific about it. Most people who run a business talk about it. I find it odd, especially since her schedule has been changed. You’d think she’d bring up some problems that her absence might cause.”
Renie smiled. “You really are a most suspicious person. Don’t you think the gym can run itself? She probably has a reliable staff. Besides, she knew she’d be gone a week or two if she was completing the West Coast trip with Dolph and Andrea.”
Judith rubbed the 7-Up can in her hands. “You’re probably right. Did you find anything of interest in Estelle’s room?”
“Only Estelle, who watched me like a spy from a bad movie,” Renie replied. “That room has no bathroom, so I couldn’t look at anything except electrical outlets and the furnace vent.” She made a face. “I couldn’t get into Suzanne’s room because her door to the shared bathroom was locked. I guess I’m not much of an inspector—or a sleuth, for that—” Renie stopped. “Where did you say Estelle came from?”
“You mean before she got here? Oregon. Why?”
“I noticed the airline tag on her suitcase,” Renie said with a sly smile. “There was only one, and it was marked from JFK to here—not to Portland.”
“Was there a date?”
“Yes.” Renie’s smile widened. “The twenty-fourth, which means she got here the same day as the rest of the Kluger group.”
“Maybe even the same flight,” Judith remarked thoughtfully. “She arrived in a tan car, a rental. I wonder if we could find out where she picked it up. It’s still parked outside.”
“I’ll look,” Renie volunteered, getting up from her chair. “There’s usually a sticker or something to indicate which rental agency the car comes from.”
While Renie was outside, Judith went into the living room to check on Gregory.
He was gone.
She knocked on the bathroom door off the entry hall. There was no response. Cautiously, she opened the door, but the bathroom was vacant. She peeked into the parlor. No Gregory. She’d just started up the stairs when Renie came back into the house.
“Hurtz,” Renie said. “Let’s call their airport office. Hey—what’s wrong?”
“The odd bird has flown the coop,” Judith replied, “unless he’s upstairs.”
“If he’s upstairs, you’d have heard a rumpus,” Renie pointed out. “Gregory must’ve waltzed out the front door. Or limped.” She put a hand on Judith’s arm. “Stay put. I’ll save you a trip.” Renie went upstairs while Judith waited on the first landing.
She didn’t have to wait long. Renie came back down, shaking her head.
“All’s quiet on the second floor,” she reported. “But you might want to look outside.”
“Why?”
“I happened to look out the big window above the second landing,” Renie said, going back up to the first landing to peer through the smaller, leaded window. “Suzanne and Fritz are in the Rankerses’ hedge.”
Judith ascended the two steps to stand by Renie. “In it? Where?”
“I don’t see them now,” Renie replied. “They weren’t actually in the hedge, but they were standing by it, head-to-head like a couple of conspirators.”
Judith went back down to the entry hall and cautiously opened the front door. “Nothing,” she said. “Let’s check the back.”
The cousins stopped to look out the kitchen window over the sink. No one was in sight. They went to the back door. There, by the patio, stood
Suzanne and Fritz, engaged in deep conversation. Judith opened the door a scant inch.
“What if she doesn’t?” Suzanne was saying.
“She won’t,” Fritz replied. “Anyway, it’s—” He stopped, gazing up at the gray clouds. “It’s crazy.”
“No, it’s not!” Suzanne stamped her foot. “She has no right to interfere! She’s ruining everything!”
“Oh, come on, Suze,” Fritz coaxed. “Chill. What’s the rush?”
“I’m not twenty anymore,” Suzanne said impatiently. “I can’t wait to have a life forever.”
“You can wait for a while,” Fritz insisted. “What’s a few days or even weeks? Besides, I—”
The toolshed door opened. Gertrude rolled to the edge of the ramp in her wheelchair. “Get off my patio!” she yelled. “You’re scaring Saint Francis and the birds!”
Suzanne jumped; Fritz swerved around to look at the old lady.
“Sorry,” the young man said. “I was just leaving.”
“Good idea,” Gertrude snapped. “Make that times two.”
Fritz all but ran in the direction of the driveway. Suzanne took a step after him but stopped, rocking back and forth on her heels. She gave Gertrude a dirty look and hurried away in the opposite direction, apparently heading for the front of the house from the Rankerses’ side.
Judith quietly closed the door. “What was that all about?”
Renie shook her head. “The plot thickens. Suzanne has something cooked up with Fritz. But what? And who is she?”
“Elsa? Andrea? Taryn?” Judith shrugged as the cousins returned to the kitchen. “Let’s get back to Gregory and look in the phone book. He claimed he didn’t have any ID when Rosemary O’Grady questioned him, but said he lived near the University. I’ll look up the Hurtz airport number, too.”
Gregory was unlisted, under either Kluger or Radinsky. Judith dialed the University’s music department. She got a recording, informing her that the office was closed for the weekend.
Renie nodded. “Classes don’t start until Monday. The departments don’t always keep regular hours between summer and fall quarters. I remember that from when Bill taught there.”