Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My!

by Penny Clover Petersen

  They ordered lemon meringue pie and hot tea.

  Daisy had been half-heartedly listening to the conversation. She was experiencing a sort of déjà vu sitting there having Caesar salad and wine and dessert.

  “Hiding places! Ingenious hiding places!” Daisy blurted out. “I think I know what Marc was trying to say.

  “The day he took me to lunch was the same day he showed me that beautiful desk. We got to talking about all of the secret hidey holes in it. Then we got onto how much we both love mysteries.”

  Daisy sighed and sipped her tea. “We even agreed on our favorite sleuths. Poirot, Marple, Wimsey. They were all so clever.

  “And then I told him that I had always thought a really clever place to hide something is inside a door.”

  “A door? You think about things like that, huh? What in the world could you hide in a door?” asked Rose with a laugh.

  “Something light. Paper, pictures, something like a note! I actually said the word ‘note’! And he said he thought that was an ingenious idea.

  “Rose, I think he was telling me that he’s hidden something in a door in his shop.”

  Rose and Angela were silent.

  Daisy asked, “Well, what do you think?”

  Rose and Angela looked at each other. Angela said, “I think it’s too early for a large vodka, but I’ve got the feeling we may need it.”

  Rose looked at Daisy thoughtfully. “I think Mother is right. It is too early. I also think a plan is brewing in that devious little brain of yours, isn’t it? I’m guessing this plan involves the dead of night and does not include a police escort.”

  Daisy smiled sheepishly. “Well, since we don’t know if I’m completely off-base or if Marc really hid anything or, if he did, what it might be, it would be premature to call in the police.

  “And it’s not that I don’t trust Marc implicitly, I do. I’m sure he would never kill anyone or bean me on the head. The fact that he was stabbed and beaned himself proves it. But he may have other things to hide.”

  Angela was getting excited. “Maybe he figured out who Ted the Tramp was blackmailing. Maybe he does know something about the Maryland Fleur de Lis. It could just be his will or something. Maybe it’s a love letter to you. Who knows?”

  “If it’s something about Ted or an old robbery, why wouldn’t he tell the police?” wondered Rose.

  “We don’t tell the police everything. Why should he? It might just be a guess about the killer or the blackmailer. You can’t go casting aspersions on a person’s character based on a good guess. You need proof,” said Daisy.

  She thought for a few minutes, and then said, “If I’m right, it won’t be upstairs. That’s been turned into a huge loft. No doors. It has to be in one of the three doors in the shop; the bathroom, the workroom or the door to the stairway. We’ll be in and out in a jiffy.”

  Rose opened her mouth to ask if Daisy had completely lost her mind, but Angela asked, “When do we go?”

  Rose looked at her. “Mother, you’re already planning your ‘dead of night break-in’ ensemble, aren’t you?”

  “I might be. Basic black is what’s called for. Perhaps a splash of red at the neck.”

  “Well, you’re not going, Mother,” said Rose. “I don’t think we should go at all. I think it’s totally insane. But if we do, you should stay at home. What if we get caught? We can’t have you carted off to jail.”

  “You’ll need a look out,” retorted Angela. “It will take two of you to get the door off. I’ll keep watch.”

  “You’re right,” said Daisy, “we’ll need a look out. What do you think? We go about eleven tonight right after we see the patrol car come past?”

  “Holy catfish, as Rose would say, we certainly do live!” chirped Angela. “We’d better get a move on. While you girls are opening the shop, I’m going to the hospital to check on Marc and then I’m going home to change for our adventure.

  “Do you need anything in the way of dark clothes? No? Okay, then. Ta-ta for now.” Angela paid the bill and dashed off to her car.

  Chapter Nine

  At eleven o’clock that night Daisy, Rose and Angela, all wearing basic black, stood inside the front door and waited for the police cruiser to drive by. Ten minutes later, the patrol car moved slowly down the street. It stopped in front of Lost Treasures and an officer got out and walked around shop. He got back into the car and slowly continued through the neighborhood.

  “He’s coming by about every hour and ten minutes. To be on the safe side, we’ve got to be out of there by midnight,” said Rose.

  Earlier that evening, Daisy had assembled what she considered the essential toolkit for the modern covert operator. WD40, screwdrivers, kitchen tongs, a small hammer, a hand bell, Scotch tape, a little broom and dustpan, and two flashlights. She dumped all of this into an old Louis Vuitton knock-off Bill had given to her.

  Rose had insisted that they do a dry run on one of their own doors. “Time will be important. We can’t take an hour just to get the thing off.”

  Daisy agreed and they were working on her bedroom door hinges. “Oh my God, it’s harder than I thought,” cried Daisy. “These hinges must have ten coats of paint on them. What do we use to get the pin out?” She had been trying to pry the pin out from the top with a screw driver.

  “I don’t know. A nail? A Phillips screwdriver, maybe. Tap on the bottom of the pin and kind of push it up. But I thought you knew how to do this. You’re the one with the bag full of cat burglar tools.”

  “I’ve never taken a door off before. Why would I? Bill always did that stuff.”

  “At least he was good for something.”

  “Not really. He took the front door off to move the new refrigerator in and it never closed right again. Okay, I think the Phillips head will work. Here we go. Hey! It’s moving. Voila! Piece of custard tart.”

  “Okay, everybody ready?” she asked as she added a flask filled with vodka and tonic with a hint of lime to the bag. Rose raised her eyebrows at this. “Dutch courage. We may need it.”

  They crossed the street quietly and stepped up on the front porch. “Let me see if I can unlock the door and kind of slide it away from the police tape,” said Daisy as she carefully fitted the key into the lock. The lock clicked and they eased the tape off so that it broke in only one place.

  “That’s not bad. We can make it look okay.” They walked in and shut the door behind them. Daisy checked the alarm box with her flashlight and said, “Good. It’s not on.”

  Daisy moved quietly to the window and said, “Mother, you sit here and if you see anyone coming ring this bell. And remember, there will be no screaming tonight. Right?” she said looking directly at Rose.

  “Oh for God’s sake, Daisy. No screaming. I got you. Which door first?”

  “Let’s start with the workroom door. We can’t be seen back there.” She and Rose checked the hinges on the door. “I think this might be it. Look the hinges are shiny and well-oiled, like they’ve been cleaned recently.”

  Daisy took the hammer and screw driver out of the pack. Rose was holding the flashlight. Daisy placed the screw driver against the bottom of the door hinge and tapped on it with the hammer easing the pin out of the hinge.

  “Ouch! Dammit!” shouted Daisy as she missed and caught her fingers.

  “No screaming tonight. Right?” said Rose.

  “In your ear,” said Daisy. “It’s a lot harder to do this when you’re nervous and the only light you have keeps moving.”

  Angela hissed from the other room, “Would you two behave yourselves? Just quiet down and hurry!”

  Daisy got the first pin out and was working on the second when they heard Angela’s bell tinkle softly. They turned out their flashlights and crouched low.

  A moment later Angela called softly, “Okay, girls. Just a late dog walker. Get on with the caper.”

  “I’m glad someone is having fun,” muttered Rose.

  The second pin was out and they almost droppe
d the door as it came out of its hinges. “Holy cow, this thing is heavy!” They examined the bottom, sides and top and couldn’t find any sort of opening.

  “Pissant! It’s not this one,” grumbled Daisy.

  “So what next, Sherlock?” inquired Rose with an exasperated sigh.

  “I don’t know. I’m probably all wrong about this anyway. Let’s get this one back on.”

  They got the workroom door back in place and Daisy crept over to the bathroom opposite to the rear door in the workroom.

  “Look, these hinges are greased, too. Wouldn’t you know he’s the one person in the world who actually takes care of his door hinges!” whispered Daisy.

  Rose said, “This better be it. We won’t have time for the other one, if it’s not.”

  “Then we’ll have to come back. Okay, here goes.” Daisy tapped the pins out quickly. “Besides, this won’t take as long. It gets easier with practice.”

  As she and Rose pulled the door off its hinges and rested it against the wall a little piece of wood fell from the bottom.

  “I think this is it,” whispered Daisy excitedly. She and Rose laid the door on the ground. A small hole was in the center of the bottom. Daisy pulled at it with a screwdriver and dislodged a narrow piece of wood about eight inches long. Shining her flashlight inside she could see an envelope attached to the inside panel.

  “There’s an envelope just out of reach. Hand me the tongs.” Rose held the flashlight as Daisy pulled. “Eureka! I can’t believe I was right.” She shoved the envelope and pieces of wood into her bag.

  Angela called softly from the showroom, “It’s eleven fifty-five. Probably time to go. The heat might show up any minute.”

  “Almost finished, Mother.” They got the door back on its hinges and swept up telltale bits of wood and sawdust. They made sure that both doors moved easily, then crept to the window. Angela checked the street and they cautiously slid outside.

  Rose took the tape from Daisy’s bag and reattached the police tape carefully. “You’d really have to look to see the tear.”

  They crossed the street and had barely closed their front door when the police cruiser stopped in front of Marc’s shop. They watched the officer get out and walk around. When he got back into his car, all three let out a breath.

  They sat at the kitchen table and shared Daisy’s flask of vodka tonic.

  “I never knew breaking the law could make me so thirsty,” said Daisy as she poured another.

  “Okay, what’s the haul?” asked Angela.

  “Mother, you’re not a gun moll. What’s in the envelope, Daisy?” asked Rose.

  Daisy looked at the envelope. There was nothing written on it. She pried open the flap and pulled out three sheets of paper.

  The first was a printout of a Baltimore Sun newspaper article dated December 17, 1998 reporting the theft of the Maryland Fleur de Lis from the Maryland Historical Society.

  Daisy skimmed the article. “Listen to this.

  ‘The annual Maryland Historical Society’s Christmas Gala was marred this year by the disappearance of one of its most famous artifacts.

  A remarkable diamond pendant, The Maryland Fleur de Lis, was apparently stolen during the party. The police have no leads at this time and have not been able to figure out how the gem was taken from the building.

  The party is an invitation only event held for the Board of Trustees and an elite group of benefactors. Among the guests were Maryland’s governor Parris Glendening, socialite Cordelia Sickles, and philanthropist and art collector Marcus Worthington.

  The Fleur de Lis is an important piece on permanent loan from the Calvert family and is shown for only six weeks each year at Christmastime. Usually kept under lock and key when on display, it’s tradition for the sixty-nine carat diamond pendant to be worn by one of the Calvert ladies for an hour during the event.

  At some point during this hour, the pendant was unfastened from the neck of Mrs. Beatrice Calvert Lambert leaving her in hysterics.’

  “The rest just repeats what Jeff Moody told us about the jewel. Of course, the reporter didn’t implicate anyone, but did imply that one of the guests may have been involved.”

  The second sheet was a copy a page from the Historical Society’s 1997 catalog containing a picture and description of the gem. “Holy smoke, it’s huge!” exclaimed Rose. “What a sparkly! Sixty-nine carats really is huge! And gaudy. You’d have to be a queen to have the nerve to wear that thing. What’s next?”

  Daisy said, “It’s a letter from Marc.”

  “Dear Miss Marple (Daisy),

  I’m afraid that this is one of those ‘if you are reading this’ letters. You know, if you are reading this I’m probably in a lot of trouble. Well, if you are, then I probably am.

  Sorry, I can’t explain all, but you have a treasure to find and return for me. I’d be clearer, but it might not be Miss Marple reading this letter. Could be Professor Moriarty.

  Please know I’m not a thief, just a businessman looking to make a buck.

  Wishing you a sparkling Christmas.

  Yours most affectionately,

  Lord Peter Wimsey

  (Love, Marc)

  “What does that mean? We’ve got to get up in six hours.” Rose jumped up and began pacing. “How are we supposed to sleep now? Have you noticed that detectives in books never have to get up for work?”

  Angela asked, “Well, Daisy, what do you think he’s talking about?”

  “I’ve got the feeling he must have found the Maryland Fleur de Lis and hidden it. And wants me to find it and return it. What else could he mean?”

  “Well, if he found it, why didn’t he return it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m dog tired and can’t think straight. And we do have to get up early. How about this, an Advil, a few hours of sleep and we’ll just hope Marc’s awake tomorrow and can tell us himself.” Daisy put everything back in the envelope and shoved it in her desk.

  Angela got up and said, “I don’t need anything to help me sleep. I’m completely exhausted. We’ll figure it out in the morning. Good night, loves.”

  Daisy and Rose followed her up the stairs.

  The next morning Daisy and Rose were tired and headachy. Both of them had tossed and turned until daylight woke them too late for a walk or a decent breakfast. They had barely had time to feed Malcolm, put him outside and grab showers. They were hoping for a slow day.

  But Murphy sure knew what he was talking about when he wrote his law. A small bus pulled up in front of the shop at 9:15 depositing twenty members of an Annapolis shopping club. Six of them made their way into Champagne Taste.

  Daisy was waiting on one pain-in-the-neck customer who wanted a lovely garnet ring, only with some other stone. “I’ve never liked garnets. But I like this setting. Could I see it with an amethyst or peridot? Or maybe a sapphire?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, but this is actually the only ring we have in this setting. An artisan who lives near Harper’s Ferry creates this jewelry. It’s all one of a kind.

  “I can show you some other pieces by the same designer.”

  “No, I really want this ring. I don’t understand what the problem is. I just want this ring with a different stone.” He threw the ring down on the counter and slammed the door on his way out.

  Daisy muttered, “Idiot!” But smiled to his retreating back and said, “Please come back soon.” And so the long day wore on.

  Her day got even more special when Bill Greene came by to talk to them. He walked in and motioned Rose to the office.

  Rose said, “Bill, can’t we do this later? As you can see we’re up to our ears.”

  “I’ve got a question for you and Daisy.”

  Daisy walked over and said, “What is it? I’m only asking because I assume it’s something that can help find who did this to Marc.”

  “It might. What I want to know is if either of you saw anyone trying to get into Proctor’s store. I was over there this morning and the crime scene
tape’s been broken.”

  Daisy looked at him and said, “Have I seen anyone trying to get into Lost Treasures? No. I haven’t. I did notice that the police are coming by frequently at night. This actually does make me feel a bit safer.

  “Rose, have you seen anyone breaking into Marc’s place?”

  “No. But I haven’t really been looking. Now Bill, unless you’re buying, please give us a break.”

  Bill looked at the two of them. They looked right back at him. “Okay, I’m leaving. But you will let me know if you remember seeing anyone, won’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Bill narrowed his eyes, turned on his heel and left.

  Angela called an hour later to say that Marc’s condition was still the same. “I tried talking to him psychically. I asked him about the letter he wrote and I’m sure he was trying to reach my thoughts, but I couldn’t understand him. I’ll keep trying.”

  “Just make sure you ask him silently, Mother. You never know who might be listening.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m very careful. I’m going home this evening unless you two need me.”

  “No, that’s fine. You’ve been such a help. Thank you. I love you, Mom,” said Daisy.

  “I know, sweet heart. I love you, too.”

  By Friday morning Daisy and Rose had just about had it. The day before had been awful. The stream of customers never slowed down and they couldn’t close until after nine.

  “This is great for the bottom line, but it’s just too much. I don’t think we’re going to make it another week and a half,” said Rose.

  “Thank God for Tonya,” said Daisy. “And I know Mother will come in if we need her. But she’s spending so much time at the hospital and getting ready for Mari and Matt’s visit, I don’t want to ask her. I’m afraid she’ll exhaust herself and get sick.

  “Besides, I know she thinks everything is a big adventure, but there really is a very dangerous person somewhere very near.”