by Mary Daheim
“True,” the senior detective agreed. “She’s been with Mrs. Kluger for many years. Her father was the Farrow chauffeur.”
“Born into service,” Judith murmured. “It all sounds so class bound. I suppose that’s because social distinctions in the West aren’t so marked, at least up here in the Northwest Territory.” She smiled at the detectives as they started for the door. “I’m glad your allergies have improved,” she said to Morgenstern.
“It’s a miracle,” he declared. “My doctor prescribed a new drug. I’ve never had relief so quickly.”
“Amazing,” Judith remarked. “I’m glad for you.”
Joe called to Judith from the kitchen. “Ah—your husband wants you,” Morgenstern said. “We’ll leave.”
Rosemary gave Judith a warm smile. “Foxhunt,” she whispered, making her exit.
“I came in the back way,” Joe explained. “I didn’t want to run into the cops. I saw their unmarked car. Did they arrest anybody?”
“No.”
“Too bad,” Joe said. “Let’s eat.”
Hurriedly, Judith served their dinner. “If it’s dried up, don’t blame me. What did Rudi want?”
“He asked me to find his violin bow,” Joe replied. “He doesn’t think the cops are trying very hard. I told him the robbery unit was good, but I guess ‘good’ isn’t good enough for Wittener. The damned thing’s insured for over three hundred grand. I asked if it was made out of diamonds.”
“At least it’s insured,” Judith said, pouring a small amount of drawn garlic butter on her prawns.
“That’s not the point,” Joe said. “It’s the sentimental value.”
“Yes. Apparently, it belonged to Fritz Kreisler. Did he mention a bracelet that Taryn lost?”
“No.” Joe took a warm buttered slice of baguette out of the woven bread basket. “Is that missing, too?”
“Rudi says it is,” Judith replied. “He’s been looking for it around our place, so I assume she lost it the night of the party. By the way, I think somebody broke into our basement.”
Joe paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “No kidding? How come you didn’t mention that earlier? I’m rarely shocked by crime, even when it occurs on my own private property.”
Judith explained how she and Rosemary had examined the window above the washer and dryer.
Joe shook his head. “Just because the guests—or the visitors’ guests—were already in the house or had access to it doesn’t mean they’d want to be caught going into the basement. Though why the hell they’d want to go down there, I can’t guess. I take it nothing’s missing?”
“Not that I can tell,” Judith replied.
Joe ate in silence for a few moments. “How many suspects besides your guests?”
“There’s Gregory Whoozits and Estelle the maid, so we’ve got at least two outsiders,” Judith said. “Frankly, I can’t see Estelle wedging herself through that window. But where there’s a will, there’s a way.” She ate another prawn before speaking again. “I gather you’re going to take on Rudi’s case?”
The gold flecks danced in Joe’s green eyes. “He’s offering ten percent of the bow’s worth if I track it down.”
“Wow!” Judith dropped her napkin. “That’s at least thirty grand!”
“How can I refuse?”
“You can’t,” Judith said. “Let me tell you what I know about it.”
For the next fifteen minutes while they cleared up from dinner, Judith related every morsel she could recall from Renie’s information about the bow. She concluded by saying that Gregory had claimed it should belong to him as his “inheritance.”
“Rudi didn’t steal it,” Joe pointed out, “unless he’s trying an insurance fraud.”
The phone rang. Renie’s number appeared on the caller ID screen. “Hi, coz,” Judith said. “Have you put on your disguise to visit Olive?”
“Something’s off,” Bill growled at the other end. “I hate the phone! Fix it! And where’s my weird pop?”
Bill’s words were for Renie, Judith gathered. She was aware that Bill Jones—along with his brother, Bub, an attorney—might be extremely smart men, but neither had ever mastered the telephone. She was also aware that Bill favored a certain brand of soda with names such as Quizzical Kiwi, Puckish Peach, Gargantuan Grape, and Fruit Is Stranger Than Friction.
“Your weird pop is that puce-colored stuff in the glass next to your left hand,” Judith heard Renie say in a vexed voice. “Give me that phone.”
“Puce?” said Bill, in a puzzled tone. “Did I buy the puce kind?”
“Hi,” Renie said into the receiver. “Bill’s trying to make a phone call. If you put Joe on the line and I hold the receiver for Bill, we might get some meaningful communication via this ultramodern invention of Alexander Graham Bell’s. Here, Bill, stick this in your ear.”
“Joe?” Bill barked.
“Just a minute,” Judith said. “I’ll get him.”
Just as Judith handed the phone to Joe, Arlene breezed through the back door. “Yoo-hoo! It’s me!”
“Hi, Arlene,” Judith said, going down the narrow hallway to meet her neighbor. “Joe’s on the phone. Let’s go into the pantry. What’s up?”
“As Teddy Roosevelt would say, ‘Ask not what you can do for your neighbor, ask how you can get up San Juan Hill.’”
“Huh?” Judith couldn’t hide her puzzlement.
“Well—that’s not quite right,” Arlene amended. “Heraldsgate Hill is what Teddy should’ve said. I just happened to be crawling through our hedge when I found this.” She opened her hand to reveal a three-toned gold bracelet.
Judith stared. The elegant circles were entwined. It looked very much like the Trinity bracelet Rudi had described. “Dare I ask what you were doing in the hedge when it’s almost dark?”
Arlene looked exasperated. “What do you think I was doing? How else can I get a view of the Wittener house except from the far end of the hedge?” Her blue eyes brightened. “The Porters had lobster for dinner. Can you imagine the market price?”
“No,” Judith admitted, wondering how Arlene had managed not only to keep surveillance on the Wittener house, but also to peek into the Porters’ kitchen. “Of course Gabe does work for a produce company. Maybe he gets a deal from other vendors.”
“Probably,” Arlene said. “Like the Steins.”
“The Steins?” Judith no longer heard Joe talking. Bill always kept his phone conversations brief. “Hamish doesn’t work for a produce company.”
“I know, I know,” Arlene said impatiently. “But they’re Jewish. Don’t they get everything wholesale?”
“Not really,” Judith said. “That’s one of those ethnic clichés.”
“Hmm.” Arlene looked thoughtful. “I did have an Italian girlfriend who couldn’t carry a tune. And I’ve known some Irishmen who weren’t drunk all the time.”
“Like Joe?” Judith said wryly.
Arlene nodded. “Yes, he’s one of them. The nondrunks, I mean. As far as I can tell.”
“Let me see that bracelet,” Judith said.
Arlene handed it over. “It looks expensive. It’s not yours, is it?”
“No,” Judith replied, turning the handsome piece over in her hands. “It may belong to Taryn Moss.”
“Oh, no,” Arlene asserted. “There’s an inscription. It’s hard to read, but I could see it with my flashlight.”
Judith backed up to get the benefit of the single bulb in the pantry. “You’re right,” she said, peering at the small, elegant letters. “It says, ‘RW to SF’…and something else.”
“‘Infirmity,’” said Arlene.
Judith looked even closer. “I think it’s ‘Eternally.’”
“Really?” Arlene’s blue eyes narrowed as she looked over Judith’s shoulder. “No, it’s ‘Infirmary.’”
Judith concentrated on the tiny letters. “It’s ‘Eternity,’” she finally decided. “It’s called a Trinity ring.”
“B
ut not Taryn’s,” Arlene pointed out. “RW—for Rudi? Who’s SF?”
Judith grimaced. “It may be Suzanne Farrow—Dolph Kluger’s stepdaughter. I thought they were acting kind of chummy earlier today. I should’ve guessed. Come to think of it, I’m not sure he told me that the bracelet belonged to Taryn. I just inferred that.”
“Rudi knew it was missing?”
“Yes. He’s been looking all over the place for it, including in our yard and house.”
Arlene shrugged. “He might have looked in the hedge. You’d be surprised at some of the things I find there.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Judith said, and meant it. The Rankerses’ laurel hedge was enormous, a veritable fortification against the world. It seemed to grow almost as fast as bamboo. Any number of items had been lost in that hedge over the years, including one of Judith’s guests.
Arlene frowned. “What was Suzanne doing in our hedge? Or do I want to know?”
“Maybe not,” Judith replied, clutching the bracelet and starting out of the pantry. “Frankly, I can’t imagine that—oops!” She tripped over the drawstring on the duffel bag and would have fallen if Arlene hadn’t been there to steady her.
“Careful!” Arlene cried. “You’ll hurt your poor hip!”
“I’m okay,” Judith said sheepishly. “I should have taken that bag downstairs earlier. It’s for Saint Vincent de Paul. When I don’t feel like going all the way into the basement, I put discards in the pantry.”
“They’re having a drive Sunday for SOTS,” Arlene said, referring to the parishioners of Our Lady, Star of the Sea, Catholic church. “Didn’t you see it in the bulletin?”
“No,” Judith admitted. “I missed it. I’ll have to get my other stuff out of the basement and take it up to church Sunday.”
“Carl and I can haul it,” Arlene volunteered. “We’re borrowing one of our sons’ trucks. We cleaned out the garage a couple of weeks ago. Let me take that bag now.”
“Thanks,” Judith said. “I’ll try to remember to get the rest of it from downstairs.”
“So,” Arlene said as she picked up the duffel bag, “this Suzanne person has been doing the dipsy-doodle with Rudi? Goodness. How did I miss that?”
“Suzanne lives in New York,” Judith said. “Whatever it is they have together is via long distance.”
“Awkward,” Arlene remarked. “But convenient.”
“Huh?”
“So little opportunity to get on each other’s nerves. You know—like living together. That’s what makes things tricky.”
“Yes,” Judith said vaguely.
“Carl and I’ve always gotten along better when we’re apart,” Arlene pointed out. “Don’t you find Joe less irritating when he’s not around?”
“Well…I think I know what you mean,” Judith allowed. “But I prefer having Joe with me.”
“You haven’t been married as long as we have,” Arlene said, heading for the back door with the duffel bag trailing behind her. “Wait thirty more years.” She slung the bag over her shoulder and suddenly looked anxious. “I must dash. Carl gets upset when I’m gone for more than fifteen minutes. He misses me so.”
Arlene hurried out, leaving behind her customary crumbs of contradiction.
She’d also left the bracelet. Standing in the kitchen, Judith caressed its entwined circles as if it were a charm. Certainly it had given her an idea. Before she could act, Joe came in from the dining room.
“I’ve got to pack,” he said, moving beyond his wife toward the back stairs.
Judith was stupefied. “Pack? What for?”
“The Kings are still in,” he called over his shoulder. “Bill says it’s hot right now out in the ocean and off the river bar. Everybody’s limiting on salmon. We’ll leave right away so we can get some sleep but still be there for first light.”
“But—” Judith stopped as Joe disappeared up the stairwell.
“Great,” she said to herself. Joe and Bill would probably be gone for the entire weekend. Rudi’s treasured bow would remain in limbo—or be found by someone else. Judith could practically see thirty thousand dollars flying out the kitchen window.
It’d take Joe at least a half hour to get his gear together. With a heavy step, Judith went up to the second floor and down the hall to Room Four. Perhaps Suzanne was keeping to her own quarters. Whatever she was doing didn’t seem to have included eating dinner.
Suzanne answered after the first knock. Apparently, she’d been exercising. She wore workout clothes and was perspiring.
“What is it?” she asked in a slightly breathless voice.
Judith held the bracelet in her palm. “Is this what Rudi was looking for?”
“Yes,” Suzanne replied, reaching for the golden circles.
Judith snatched her hand away. “Good. I’ll return it to Taryn right now.”
“No!” Suzanne quickly composed herself. “I mean, I’ll do it. Rudi’s at the concert. Taryn’s probably there, too. I’ll slip it in their mailbox.”
“That’s a bad idea,” Judith said. “There appears to be a thief on the loose around here. I’ll keep the bracelet in our safe until I can give it to Taryn or Rudi.”
Suzanne used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. “I really think you should let me have it.”
Briefly, Judith considered the physical advantage that the much younger, leaner—and far more physically fit—Suzanne had over her. If she tried to wrest the bracelet away from Judith, it would be no contest.
Which was exactly what Suzanne intended to do. Swiftly, she reached out and grabbed Judith’s arm. “Don’t meddle! Give me that!”
Judith clutched the bracelet as tightly as she could manage. She was still standing in the doorway. “Don’t be silly,” she said in a strained voice. “Don’t you think this bracelet should be put where it—”
Suzanne viciously twisted Judith’s arm. “Let go! I don’t want trouble!”
Judith winced, but kept the bracelet clasped in her hand. Somehow, she also managed to keep her balance. But she knew Suzanne was bound to win the battle.
“Fish on!” Joe called as he emerged from the third-floor steps across the hall. “Whoa—what have we caught, my darling wife?”
Startled, Suzanne let go of Judith’s arm. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “We were…ah…” Her face turned red. “It was a misunderstanding,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”
Joe, who was carrying an overnight bag, stood directly behind Judith. “Odd,” he said in that deceptively mellow voice that had proved so effective with innumerable suspects and perps over the years, “since my wife rarely has misunderstandings with anyone. It’s not her style.”
“I said,” Suzanne repeated, speaking more audibly, “I’m sorry. I’m under a terrible strain. Excuse me.” She backed away, shutting the door on the Flynns.
“Damn,” said Joe after the door was closed. “What’s with her? Are you okay?”
Judith shook her tender arm. “Yes, I’m fine. But Suzanne isn’t. She’s got herself in a pickle.”
“How so?”
“Come on downstairs,” Judith said. “I take it you’re ready to go.”
“I’ve got to get my lucky salmon rod from the basement,” Joe said as they went down the back stairs. “It’s lighter and gives more play than the ones you get on the charter boat.” He stopped before they reached the last step and put a hand on Judith’s shoulder. “Is it safe to leave you with Ms. Muscle?”
“I think so,” Judith said with an ironic smile. “Suzanne’s right about one thing—she’s definitely under a strain.”
They’d reached the hallway to the kitchen. “Maybe Renie should stay with you while Bill and I are gone.”
“Renie’s small,” Judith said, then added, “but mean.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Joe asserted. “Bill and I are taking your Nissan, if that’s okay. Your car has more room for the fish. Just take good care of my MG.” He touched her cheek. “Why don’t you have Renie
come over tonight? I’d feel better if she were here.”
“Maybe I would, too,” Judith agreed. “I’ll call her.”
Joe headed for the basement. The safe was in the family quarters on the third floor. Judith didn’t feel like walking that far, so she put the bracelet in the freezer between some pork chops and chicken parts.
Renie answered on the second ring. “Want to have a sleepover?” Judith asked.
Her cousin paused. “Can I bring Clarence?”
“No.”
“You know I don’t like leaving him alone,” Renie responded. “Oscar’s no help.”
Judith wasn’t in the mood for Renie’s fantasies about the stuffed ape or the real Holland dwarf lop bunny. “When did you start sleeping with Clarence?”
“I’ve only done it once, when he was ailing,” Renie replied. “He got lost during the night. We found him in one of Bill’s slippers. Or what was left of it. Clarence wasn’t as sick as we thought.”
“Joe thinks I’m in danger,” Judith said, not wanting to hear any more about Clarence, the only bunny she knew who had a complete wardrobe, including a tutu and resort wear.
“In danger?” Renie sounded mildly surprised. “Anybody specific?”
Lowering her voice, Judith related the incident with Suzanne.
“Okay,” Renie finally agreed, “I’ll come. But it won’t be until around nine. Clarence always goes to bed at eight-thirty. Oscar usually stays up until ten, when Bill tucks him in for the—”
“Stop!” Judith commanded. “Just be here, okay?”
“Fine, sure,” Renie said, irked. “By the way, I have an appointment tomorrow morning with Olive Oglethorpe.”
Judith’s tone changed immediately. “You do?”
“Yes. I’m selling her a retirement home.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s fraud. You don’t own any retirement homes.”
“Not true. Bill’s retired. I’m selling her our house.”
“But…” Judith was nonplussed. Renie might not be nearly as good a liar as she was, but when she told the occasional whopper, it was usually outrageous. This was no exception. “I don’t get it.”
“Never mind,” Renie said. “The main thing is that I get to talk to her. What I say isn’t as important as what she says to me. Right?”