by Mary Daheim
With a nimble move, Joe lifted one foot, caught the
jacket on the toe of his shoe, and dumped it on the
floor. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. Get that door. If you
want to lie down, use the stiff’s room. It’s behind Door
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Number Three. Move it. I’m not in one of my good
moods.”
Morris moved. He scrambled for his jacket, gave
Joe a wary glance, and scooted out of the room. Sweetums, who had been napping by the sofa, woke up and
chased Morris all the way up the stairs.
Judith beamed at her husband. “I always find it exciting when you play bad cop.”
“Maybe we’ll both have a chance to get excited
when this crew of loonies gets the hell out of here,” Joe
grumbled. “Now sit and stay. And eat. I’ll take care of
the trick-or-treaters.”
“How many have we had so far?” Judith asked.
“About thirty,” Joe replied, heading to answer the
doorbell on the second ring.
By the time her husband returned, she’d eaten half
of the pot pie with its flaky crust and chunks of tender
chicken. “Were they cute?” she asked.
“It was some of the Dooleys,” Joe said, referring to
their neighbors whose house was across the back fence
by the Flynn garage. “I can never tell if it’s their kids,
grandkids, nieces, nephews, or just some strays they’ve
picked up.”
“Darn. I’d like to have seen them,” Judith said, tackling the field-green salad.
“You wouldn’t have wanted to see some of the bigger ones,” Joe said. “About half an hour ago there was
a scarecrow and a cowboy who were as tall as I am. I’d
swear they were old enough to vote.”
“Candy hogs,” Judith said with a smile that quickly
turned into a frown. “Did you say a scarecrow and a
cowboy?”
“Right,” Joe responded. “Why do you ask?”
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“A Wizard of Oz scarecrow? Was the cowboy wearing snakeskin boots?”
“As a matter of fact he was,” Joe said.
“They were here last night.” Judith took her first sip
of Scotch. “Doesn’t that seem odd?”
Joe shrugged. “As you said, candy hogs. That’s the
problem with Halloween falling on a Sunday. It becomes a holiday weekend instead of just one night.”
Judith didn’t respond. But she was more than curious. She was alarmed.
Joe had offered to make up the rooms while Judith
finished her meal and put her feet up. He’d just come
downstairs when Dirk, Ellie, Chips, and Ben returned
to Hillside Manor. With a few succinct words, he explained the new room assignments. Ellie didn’t seem
pleased.
“Win’s such a fussbudget,” she said with a scowl.
“At least Angela didn’t care if my clothes weren’t hung
perfectly in the closet.”
Judith apologized for any inconvenience. “I had no
idea that Mr. Patricelli, Mr. Mayne, and Ms. Fleming
were all going to stay here tonight instead of at the
hotel downtown.”
“The Cascadia is in a pickle,” Chips Madigan remarked. “We’ve got about fifty people there who can’t
leave town, and some tour group is coming in from
Japan tonight. They’re overbooked.”
So, Judith thought, was she. There were other hotels, some high-class motels, and probably even a few
B&Bs that were empty on a Sunday night. She had the
feeling that it wasn’t a lack of vacancies that had
brought the trio to Hillside Manor, but Paradox Stu- SILVER SCREAM
275
dios’ desire to keep certain persons under Vito’s eaglelike eye.
“Is it possible,” she inquired, recalling what she’d
overheard the attorney say in the private dining room,
“that you’ll all be going back to L.A. tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” Chips replied.
“Let’s hope so,” Ben Carmody put in.
“We’d damned well better be out of here by tomorrow,” Dirk growled, then turned on his heel and
stomped upstairs.
A smiling Ellie watched him disappear. “Goody.
Now we can watch Ben’s movie on TV.” She turned to
Judith. “It’s okay, isn’t it? Chips directed. You might
want to see it, Mrs. Flynn. The Virgin Vessel. It comes
on in five minutes, and it’s really creepy. Perfect for
Halloween.”
Judith vacillated. “I’ll watch the first part while I
finish my dinner. But then I have some work to do.”
Joe volunteered to turn on the set. Ellie assumed her
usual perch on the window seat, even though it meant
she had to lean a little to see the screen. Chips
sprawled on the sofa across from Judith, and Ben settled into one of the big armchairs.
With the screen coming to life, Joe had just put
down the remote when there was a knock at the back
door. He went out through the French doors and appeared a few seconds later with Renie.
“I’m bored,” Renie announced as the movie’s opening credits appeared on the screen. “Bill’s exhausted
from meeting the future in-laws, so he’s going to bed
even earlier than usual. I don’t feel like reading, and
there’s nothing on TV,” she continued, stopping in the
middle of the room and blocking the screen. “Once the
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baseball season is over, there’s not much I want to see
on television.”
“Keep it down,” Ben called out.
“Did you pay for your seat?” Renie sneered.
“Get out of the way,” Ellie demanded. “You’re
blocking the screen.”
“Read a book,” Renie shot back as she refused to
budge. “Improve your mind.”
“Coz?” Judith forced a tense smile. “Our guests are
actually watching a movie. Or trying to. Would you
mind sitting down?” She patted the empty sofa cushion
next to her.
“They are?” Renie shrugged. “What movie? There
are some of them that I actually like.”
“The Virgin Vessel,” Ellie said, no longer annoyed.
“It’s really, really scary. We should turn out all the
lights.”
“Atmosphere!” Chips exclaimed, jumping up and
hurrying around the room to turn off the four lamps
that were burning. “How’s that? Fog outside, witches
flying on broomsticks, the whole Halloween scene.
Could it be more frightening?”
“I hate frightening movies,” Renie declared. “They
scare me.”
“They’re supposed to,” Chips replied, resuming his
place on the sofa. “It’s more thrill than scare when the
picture’s directed properly.”
Judith nudged Renie. “Chips directed this one,” she
whispered to her cousin.
“Jeez,” Renie sighed. “I guess I’ll shut up now.”
Joe edged past Renie to collect Judith’s tray.
“There’s a preseason NBA game on,” he said quietly.
“Care to join me upstairs?”
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“If this thing gets too gruesome, I might do that,”
Renie responded.
The movie
’s opening shot followed a young woman
in late-nineteenth-century dress down a dark, winding
London street. She was obviously nervous, and
stopped periodically to look over her shoulder. As she
turned a corner, a light glowed from a narrow timberfronted building. Expressing relief, she pulled the iron
knocker on the door. To the accompaniment of creaking hinges and ominous music, the heavy door opened
slowly. The young woman rushed inside. The door
slammed shut behind her. Strong, hairy hands swung a
big ax. She screamed in terror. The hands and the ax
came down again and again as blood spurted, presumably from her unseen body.
“That’s it,” Renie said, getting up. “I’m going to
check out the basketball game. If I wanted brutality, I’d
watch hockey.”
Judith didn’t much blame her cousin but felt obligated to watch at least the first fifteen minutes of the
movie. The scene changed to what appeared to be an
interior of Scotland Yard. The policemen were discussing the crime spree that had been taking place in
London’s East End. They shook their heads a great
deal and muttered “Baffling” several times.
“Wow!” Ellie enthused. “This is sooo good. Watch,
Mrs. Flynn, Ben’s coming up in the next scene.”
Sure enough, Ben Carmody, dressed in the garb of a
nineteenth-century gentleman, sauntered up the same
street where the young woman had presumably been
murdered. It was daylight, and Ben carried a cane. He
stopped in front of the building where the ax-wielding
maniac had done his dirty deed. Ben looked up to the
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second story. Then, as a stout woman carrying a wicker
basket entered the street, he turned and disappeared
around a corner. Judith suddenly realized she’d seen
this before.
“Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “It’s after nine,
and I’m going to take our jack-o’-lanterns in. The
trick-or-treaters should all be home by now.”
As far as Judith could determine, the fog-filled culde-sac was empty. Taking the trio of pumpkins inside,
she found Renie in the kitchen.
“I thought you were going to watch the game with
Joe,” she said, placing the pumpkins on the counter.
“I’m stealing a Pepsi first,” Renie said, opening the
refrigerator. “Did you get scared, too?”
“Sort of,” Judith admitted. “But I think I’ve seen
that movie before, though I can’t imagine why. Joe and
I don’t like horror films, either.”
“Maybe you saw a preview,” Renie suggested, opening a can of Pepsi.
“Maybe.” Judith paced a bit. “That must be it. I certainly can’t remember anything else about The Virgin
Vessel. But the scene with Ben Carmody looked very
familiar.” She went to the sink and stared out the
kitchen window. Suddenly something clicked in her
brain. “Coz!” she cried, whirling around to face Renie.
“Do you remember that man I saw a couple of months
ago between our house and the Rankerses’ hedge?”
“What man?” Renie looked blank. “I don’t think
you mentioned it to me.”
“Maybe I didn’t,” Judith allowed. “It was after
Labor Day, when Skjoval Tolvang was working on the
house and the toolshed. Mr. Tolvang saw him first. He
thought the man was a city inspector.”
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“Did you see this guy up close?” Renie asked.
“Fairly close,” Judith replied, pacing a little faster.
“He had a beard and glasses. He said he was looking
for a Mr. . . . I forget, it was an odd name. Anyway, he
hurried off after that.”
“Okay,” Renie said. “And your point is . . . ?”
“My point,” Judith said slowly, “is that the man I
saw outside the house may have been Ben Carmody.”
Renie thought Judith was imagining things, and said
so. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Because of his height and build,” Judith said. “At
the time he reminded me of someone. I’ve seen Ben in
a couple of movies, and one of them was a costume
picture from the same era as The Virgin Vessel.”
“It’s a stretch.” Renie yawned. “Why would Ben
Carmody be hanging around outside Hillside Manor in
September?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Judith said, reverting
to her old habit of chewing on a fingernail.
“Why indeed?” Renie said as they heard the front
door open. “I doubt that Ben did any such thing.”
Judith didn’t respond, but went into the dining room
to see who had arrived. It was Vito and Winifred. He
seemed fresh and vigorous; she appeared weary and
anxious. Judith informed Vito that he’d be staying in
Room Three.
“Bruno’s room,” Vito said solemnly. “It’s an honor.”
“You may find Morris Mayne already there,” Judith
said. “Would you mind asking him to move to Room
Five with Chips?”
The attorney informed Judith that he’d gladly pass
on the request. “I appreciate getting the larger room,”
he said. “I have some work to do.”
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Winifred, however, wasn’t pleased to hear that she
would have to share her room with Ellie. “Why
couldn’t Ellie and Eugenia share Room Six?”
“Because,” Judith said, clearing her throat, “you and
Ellie are quite slim. Eugenia is not. Both your room
and Room Six, where Ellie’s been staying, have double beds.”
Flattery didn’t have any effect on Winifred, who remained glum but didn’t argue further. Maybe, Judith
thought, that was because Eugenia had admitted that
she and Winifred weren’t on good terms. Whatever the
reason, Winifred immediately went upstairs while Vito
peered into the darkened living room.
“What’s going on?” Seeing the movie on TV, he
didn’t wait for an answer. “Ah— The Virgin Vessel. The
role that made Ben famous. It was Chips’s first attempt
at directing. He was superb.” Without waiting for a response from Judith, Vito slipped gracefully into the living room just as a willowy blonde met her fate at the
hands of Mr. Ax.
Judith was still shuddering when she returned to the
kitchen. “Let’s go upstairs so we can talk privately,”
she said to Renie, who had fixed herself some cheese
and crackers. “I can still hear the screams from the
TV.”
“You want to watch the NBA’s preseason?” Renie
inquired, getting up from the table with her snacks.
“Not really,” Judith said. “We can go in Joe’s office.”
The cousins ascended the back stairs, then entered
the door that led up to the family quarters. Judith sat
down in Joe’s swivel chair and placed her unfinished
Scotch on the desk.
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“Okay, so fill me in,” Renie said, seating herself in
the rocking chair that Joe used to relax his back.
Judith complied, a
nd it took almost fifteen minutes.
Renie made only the briefest of comments until her
cousin had finished.
“You’ve got a lot of fragmentary information there,”
Renie pointed out. “Let’s start with A for Angela. She’s
a coke addict who got started by Bruno. He went to
rehab and it apparently worked. She’s still hooked. Is
that a motive for murder?”
“I doubt it,” Judith said, hearing the wind pick up
outside. “But her most recent movie with Bruno turned
out to be a bomb, and Ellie was to have starred in the
next one. That might be more of a motive than mere
drug addiction.”
“Revenge,” Renie murmured. “What does Bill’s
chart say about that?”
Joe had fortuitously brought the chart up to the office before any of the guests could see it. “I don’t think
Bill got to revenge,” Judith said, spreading the chart
out on the desk. “Wait—he did. Bill and Joe must have
worked on this while we were gone. Angela, Dirk,
Ben, Dade, and Chips all have mauve marks, which
stand for revenge.”
“They’re all associated with the Big Flop,” Renie remarked. “But murder doesn’t seem like the right way
to rectify a career stumble. I can’t imagine that any of
those celebrities won’t bounce back.”
Judith studied the chart for several moments. “It’s
got to be something personal. It almost always is.”
“You ought to know,” Renie said with a grin. “I see
Bill’s keyed in jealousy, but he’s marked it only for Angela and Ellie, with a slash for professional rivalry.”
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Judith shook her head. “Why would either of them
kill Bruno?”
“Didn’t you say you overheard something about
Ellie’s next movie not being made now that Bruno’s
dead?”
“That’s my point,” Judith replied. “Bruno was worth
far more to Ellie alive than dead. Let’s face it, the only
person in the entourage who got violent with Bruno
was Dirk Farrar. They had that big fight in Marina Del
Rey. Which signifies to me that Dirk wouldn’t hesitate
to duke it out in a disagreement, but he’s not the homicidal type. If he killed someone, it would be in a burst
of temper with his bare hands.”
“You’re ruling out Dirk banging Bruno in the head
with the cupboard door and shoving him in the sink?”
“There would have had to be an argument first,” Judith asserted. “Dirk’s very loud. Joe or I would have