The Ghost and the Femme Fatale

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The Ghost and the Femme Fatale Page 9

by Alice Kimberley


  "Aunt Sadie," I said in a quiet voice, "what do you think about Dr. Lilly's death? You heard what I said to Chief Ciders. Do you think her death is suspicious, too? Or do you believe Ciders is right, and that she simply fell by accident?"

  My aunt's arm fell away from my shoulders and she actually looked a little miffed. "I can't believe you just asked me that, Penelope!"

  "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot-"

  "Chief Ciders is the biggest blowhard in this town! His opinion isn't worth a hill of beans, and you've proved it more than once in the last few years. That's what's eating him, Pen.

  He's obviously determined never to let you get the best of him again. Well, I believe you, dear, and I believe in you."

  Sadie smiled at me then; and, boy, did I need that vote of confidence.

  "Thank you," I whispered.

  "Sweetie, you're a wonderful niece, and a very sharp young woman." She put her arm back around my shoulders and squeezed. "Don't you think I feel terrible about leaving that poor woman in our store alone? Whatever I can do to help, you let me know. And for goodness' sake don't you go letting Ciders's idiotic bluster discourage you from following your instincts. They've been good in the past, and I have no doubt that whatever track you're on, it's the right one."

  Bang, Bang, Bang!

  Sadie and I jumped at the noise, then looked up to find a twentysomething with tattoos, a nose ring, and a SIN CITY T-shirt knocking on the glass window of our front door. "Open up already!" his muffled voice demanded. Then he turned back to his group of young friends and they all laughed.

  I sighed. The ambulance, cops, and mysterious body bag wheeled out of our store had made us a local spectacle. The crowd out front was even bigger now, snaking down the sidewalk, spilling into the street. Waiting customers were gossiping with curious tourists. Some were laughing and pointing.

  I stepped closer to the front window, overheard some snippets of conversation. "I can't believe it, but I think these people believe we just staged a publicity stunt."

  "That's awful!" said Aunt Sadie. "Who would think we'd do such a thing?!"

  "It's Film Noir week. Dark and cynical are the words of the day."

  "Then I guess we'd better open soon," said Sadie, shaking her head, "or we're liable to get another ticket from the councilwoman for unlawful assembly."

  "What do we'd do about the twelve o'clock signing?" I studied the crowd, hoping to spot Brainert. "Should we just send the people away? I don't relish announcing our store's noontime speaker is now a corpse on its way to an autopsy."

  "There are a lot of authors scheduled for signings this weekend," said my aunt. "Perhaps we can call someone, ask him or her to step in."

  "Isn't that Maggie Kline out there, speaking to a group of college kids?" I pointed to the sixty-something woman with the red glasses and bouncy, scarlet-streaked, cocoa-colored curls.

  "The screen and television writer?" Sadie peered through the plate glass, into the crowd. "Oh, yes, that's her. I spoke to her briefly at the party last evening. She's quite smart and articulate. And we have at least three of her suspense novels in stock. She penned them years ago, but their backlist sales have held up well. Do you think, since she's here now, she might step

  in for Dr. Lilly?"

  I checked my watch. "Ms. Kline's already scheduled for a Saturday signing, but there's such a huge crowd here now, I bet she wouldn't mind doing a little Q and A for us. How do you feel about introducing her?"

  "I'd love to!" said Sadie. "I've read her books, of course, and seen most of those television shows she used to write for… Let me see now… there was The Brutal Streets, Manhunt, Shield of Justice. I can certainly think of a few good questions for her if the audience can't."

  In the next few minutes, our spirits brighter, Sadie and I helped Officer Eddie finish cleaning the Community Events room, and our young part-time clerk, Mina Griffith, arrived to start her shift.

  "I think we should call Seymour, too," I told Sadie. "We'll really need him for crowd control."

  She nodded, dialed his cell, and got right through. "He'll be here in ten minutes," she said.

  Finally, Mina braced herself behind the counter; Aunt Sadie positioned herself inside the Events room; and I opened the front door. The murmuring, laughing people flowed in like a river released from a dam, many of them heading right into the adjoining space to grab seats for our noontime event.

  I stood near the front of the store, watching for Maggie Kline-until a large man in a Hawaiian shirt of neon pink and lime green blotted out my view of practically everything else.

  "Good morning… you're Pen McClure right?" asked the man. "You run this store?"

  "Yes, with my aunt," I said, weaving and bobbing to see around the man's bulky form.

  "I'm here for the film festival, and I was just wondering what the deal was? With the ambulance and police, I mean. Somebody have a stroke or heart attack in here or something?" He lowered his voice. "It wasn't Hedda Geist, was it? The corpse they wheeled out looked pretty small, like a woman."

  I moved my gaze north of the large, Hawaiian-shirted obstruction and immediately recognized the round baby face and blond ponytail of the famous Webmaster Barry Yello-the young guy who'd introduced Dr. Lilly the night before.

  "Oh, my goodness," I murmured. "You're Barry Yello, aren't you?"

  "Rumor has it."

  I quickly pulled him aside. In hushed tones, I told Barry that his colleague Dr. Lilly was the one who'd died in our store. "She fell from a ladder."

  "God, that's awful." Barry shook his head. "I better get the news out on my Web site."

  "Oh, no! Don't do that! Not until we're sure her family's been notified."

  "Oh, yeah. Right." Barry frowned. "Sorry, but I didn't know her that well. I mean, I learned a lot from her books. And she seemed like a nice lady, but as far as her personal life?" He shrugged. "I think she's married, but I don't have any contact info or anything. Wish I could be more helpful. You're better off tracking down Dean Pepper for that… or Professor Brainert Parker."

  "I will."

  "Like I said, I'm sorry about what happened; but I'm glad it wasn't Hedda Geist." He glanced around the store. "You haven't seen her around this morning, have you?"

  "Hedda? No. She's not expected here for her signing until five."

  "Her signing?" Barry squinted. "What's she going to sign, publicity stills?"

  We were standing near the Film Noir Festival display, so I just pointed to Hedda's oversized photo book.

  "Oh, yeah. Portraits in Shadow" He grabbed a copy off the stack. "I forgot about this thing. But then it was pretty forgettable. The text is disappointingly minimal… more like extended captions. She should have hired someone like me to write a real book for her. It's no wonder it didn't make any waves. I mean, she didn't do much to promote it, either."

  "Well, she's promoting it now," I pointed out.

  "True." Barry nodded. "This weekend's pretty much Hedda's first public appearance since her film career ended back in the day. That's why I'm looking forward to interviewing her on stage this afternoon. I'm streaming the whole thing on my Web site and uploading a choice segment onto YouTube…"

  Oh, yeah? Jack said in my head. Then why don't you ask her the sixty-four-million-dollar question: whether she knifed Irving Vreen by accident or let him have it in cold blood.

  "Jack, be quiet," I shot back. "I'm in a jam here!"

  "…anyway, Mrs.McClure, you can see why I was stressed about the corpse and wanted to make sure that it wasn't Hedda…" As Barry continued to yammer on, I realized that he had a book to hawk this weekend, too.

  "Listen, Barry," I interrupted, "I have a thought. Since you're here now, would you mind taking the book-signing spot left by the late Dr. Lilly? You could even say a few words about her since you enjoyed her books on film history-"

  "Oh, no," Barry said quickly. "I'm sorry, Mrs. McClure, but I wouldn't know what to say. I mean, I'm great a
t writing on the 'Net, but speaking at length right off the top of my head with nothing written down first?" He shrugged. "Not good. I'll just stick my foot in it. And my signing's already set for Sunday. Let's keep it that way, okay? I've already announced it on my site and… "

  As Barry kept talking, I went back to frantically searching the crowd for Maggie Kline. It wasn't that we couldn't just cancel the noon event. Sending the crowd away would be easy to do. But it would be a shame, considering this was the first festival event our store was hosting. We might not ever get the people to come back to our store again. And we had too many books in stock to let potential book buyers slip away. I was sad about Dr. Lilly, but I still had a boy to feed and clothe and put through college.

  "Ms. Kline!" I called out, interrupting the beefy Webmaster. "Excuse me, Barry. I'm not usually this rude, but I'm a little desperate right now. Ms. Kline, over here!"

  As I waved the woman over, Barry's expression soured. "Why are you calling her over here?"

  "What's the matter?" I whispered. "Are you two having some sort of feud?"

  "No," he said shortly. "I've never even met the woman."

  Maggie Kline strode over to us, an expression of curiosity on her broad face. Her features weren't delicate or conventionally pretty, yet she had a very attractive air about her, a glowing confidence. She had a fit figure, too. She was tall and slender, and despite being in her sixties, looked great in her youthful clothes.

  Over the years, I'd seen older women try to dress younger and fail miserably at it-usually because their skirts were too high, their dresses too tight or too revealing of flesh that just wasn't as elastic, smooth, and blemish-free as it once was. But Maggie's red-framed glasses, snug red T-shirt, and low-waisted khaki pants made her look carefree and approachable. Even her shoes were whimsical-instead of heels or boots, she wore black Keds.

  "Hello," she said, walking up to me. "Do I know you?"

  I introduced myself and explained that Dr. Lilly just expired in a freakish accident. I didn't see the need to go into my theories on how and why-not yet, anyway.

  Maggie Kline's face fell at my news. "That's awful! The poor woman… "

  "Yes, well, you see, Ms. Kline-"

  "Call me Maggie."

  I nodded. "The reason I called you over here, Maggie, wasn't just to tell you the bad news. I'd like to ask a huge favor." "Name it."

  "The store needs another speaker at noon. Would you mind very much appearing in Dr. Lilly's place?"

  Maggie's expression went from expectant to puzzled. "I don't know," she said, clearly taken by surprise. "It's a little creepy, isn't it?"

  She glanced at Barry standing beside me, as if to see what he thought of this idea. He just shook his head and shrugged.

  "We have such a big crowd here," I explained, "and so many authors scheduled this weekend already. My aunt and I just felt it made sense to see if anyone would want to step in… "

  Maggie shifted. "I don't know if I'm prepared. I mean, the crowd's expecting Irene Lilly to speak-"

  "You wouldn't have to give a prepared speech or even say anything to the crowd about Dr. Lilly," I assured her. "My aunt will handle that. Then she'll introduce you, tell everyone about what you've written and done, and then she'll start a Q and A off and throw it open to the audience. It should be fun. And we already have your suspense novels stacked up in the Events room for you to sign."

  "Holy crow," Maggie muttered, obviously put off. "You people don't miss a beat, do you? Dr. Lilly's not even cold yet, but the show must go on, huh?"

  I blinked, a little stunned-and embarrassed-at Maggie's bluntness. "Oh, well… I, uh… I'm sorry you see it that way… maybe we're asking too much-"

  "Mrs. McClure just wants to keep the crowd happy," Barry Yello loudly spoke up. "You don't have to bust her chops over it, Kline."

  "Excuse me, Mr. Yello," said Maggie. "Did anyone ask you to speak?"

  Barry folded his thick arms and narrowed his eyes. "As a matter of fact, Mrs. McClure here asked me to do exactly that before she asked you."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Do the math," said Barry.

  "Oh, I see," Maggie replied. "You're saying that I'm sloppy seconds?"

  "Oh, no," I cried, "that's not true at all. Please, please don't argue."

  "Whatever," said Barry with a wave of his hand. Maggie put her hands on her hips. "Clearly, Yello here thinks he's hot stuff.Well, go ahead, Bad Barry… " Maggie tapped her

  wristwatch. "It's almost noon now, and you obviously don't have anything better to do."

  Barry looked away. "Actually, I do. I'm sorry, Mrs. McClure. I wanted to catch Dr. Lilly's speech, but now I can't, obviously… so I'll be going…"

  "If you must," I said. Although my remark was meant rhetorically, Barry went on as if Maggie and I were hanging on every moment of his afternoon schedule.

  "Oh, yes, I must," he replied. "There's the showing of Double Indemnity. They're only showing it once this weekend, and I don't want to miss it. Then I've got to get back to my room at the Comfy Time Motel to launch the discussion of the film on my Web site. Then I have to review my questions for Hedda Geist's appearance on the Movie Town stage. So you see, I do have better things to do."

  "Fine!" Maggie Kline said. "Then zip it already and go!"

  The rivalry between these two was more than obvious, but I couldn't imagine what was behind their animosity. Barry claimed they'd never met before. Was his claim a lie? And if it was, why would he bother lying about it?

  "All right, Mrs. McClure," Maggie said after Barry left. "I'll step in for you…for Dr.Lilly, I mean. I guess it's the least I can do, considering you bothered to stock my books."

  "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!"

  "Really, it's no big deal. I just had to get used to the idea. The shock of hearing about that poor woman and all… so where do I go for this public appearance?" She glanced around. "This is the first time I've been in your store, so you'll have to show me the way."

  "Of course." I led Maggie through the archway and into the Community Events room. "If you don't mind my asking," I said as we walked, "what's the beef between you and Barry? He said he'd never met you before, but you two were talking as if you did know each other."

  "Oh, we know each other-over the Web. We've just never met in person. Yello's taken shots at everything I've written- TV, movies, books. I've fired back with my own review of his ridiculous Bad Barry book. He's an absolute jerk, in case you haven't noticed."

  I didn't know what to say to that. So I just quickened my steps to the front of the room and introduced my aunt to Maggie.

  While they were talking, I thought about what Maggie had just said. Barry Yello struck me more as young and awkward than an "absolute jerk." In her own way, Maggie herself was rather a difficult personality. On the other hand, she could have a legitimate grievance. I'd never read Barry's reviews of her novels and teleplays. They could have been unduly vicious and personal. The World Wide Web didn't always bring out the best in people.

  You got it wrong, doll, Jack quipped in my head. There's plenty of people who never had any "best" inside them to be brought out in the first place.

  Jack's voice got me to thinking again about our case. "Barry was on that stage, too, last night. He used the microphone before Dr. Lilly."

  You're right, baby. And I know what you're thinking. There might be a whole lotta people like Maggie out there, who aren't too keen on seeing Barry write another World Wide word.

  "Hey, Pen!" Seymour Tarnish called, coming in to help with the event. "I need to talk to you." Pulling me aside, he told me that there was some sort of problem out front.

  "Great, that's all I need." I followed him to find three people in formal clothing standing near our entrance: two men in suits and ties, and a tall blonde woman in pressed black slacks and a blue blazer.

  "They're press," Seymour whispered.

  "What?"

  I talked with the small group and discovered
that earlier in the week, Dr. Lilly had invited them personally to attend her lecture today.

  "So what's going on?" said one of the men from a Newport newspaper. "This gentleman"-he pointed to Seymour -"told us that Dr. Lilly isn't speaking today, or any day. What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Yes," said the tall blonde. "We're here to cover the publication of her book. Aren't you hosting a signing with her?"

  I glanced at Seymour. He shrugged.

  "I'm so sorry…" I explained that Dr. Lilly had had an accident, but that I couldn't release much more information than that until the authorities contacted her family. "Would you care to stay for our stand-in author? She's had quite an accomplished career as a novelist and screenwriter."

  The press people glanced at each other, shook their heads, and turned to go. "Sorry, not interested."

  I glanced at Seymour again as we watched them leave. "How odd," I said. "Is that a news van out there?"

  Seymour nodded. "Yep, I can see the TV satellite antennae."

  "Maybe I misjudged how well Dr. Lilly is known," I murmured.

  "What do you mean?" Seymour asked.

  "I mean, her backlist is respectable, but it's never sold any better than any other film historian's work. She's an academic not a media personality. This is the first I've ever heard of a wonky film studies book getting press attention."

  "Mrs. McClure!" Mina called from the check-out counter. "I'm having that scanning issue again!"

  "Sorry, Seymour, it's back to work for me-and for you, too." I jerked my thumb toward the Events room. "Get yourself in there and make sure the audience behaves."

  Seymour saluted. "Aye, aye, captain! Your crowd control expert's in the house!"

  CHAPTER 9. Dark Doings at the Lighthouse

  You think you know something, don't you? You think you're the clever little girl who knows something. There's so much you don't know…

  – Shadow of a Doubt, 1943

  ABOUT NINETY MINUTES later, the clapping in the Events room signaled the end of the program. Then the author signing began, and Seymour marshaled the crowd in his own inimitable fashion.

 

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