Prairie Hardball

by Alison Gordon

  “I know how you must feel.”

  He looked at me, his eyes red and bleak.

  “You can’t know.”

  I looked away.

  “But thank you,” he said, and took my hand. We sat that way, him holding tightly to my hand, for the next five minutes.

  Finally, Andy came out with Inspector Digby, who called us all together by the door.

  “There’s no reason you all have to stay here,” Digby said. “Inspector Munro here has agreed to supervise your getting back to the hotel. I will request that you stay there until we have a chance to interview you this afternoon.”

  “We were planning to check out today,” Bert Goodman complained. “We have a flight out of Saskatoon in the morning.”

  “We will attempt to be as efficient as possible,” Digby said. “There should be officers there to take your statements within the hour.”

  “That’s fine, Inspector,” Shirley Goodman said. “We don’t really have to leave tomorrow.”

  She looked at her husband, who was about to object.

  “For Pete’s sake, Bert, you’re retired. It’s not like you have anything to rush back for.”

  Peter Deneka agreed to stay, as did my parents and Edna Summers. “I won’t leave until I know who did this terrible thing,” she said.

  “Inspector,” Shirley Goodman said, “what about our safety? All of the Belles got the same crazy letters that Virna did. We could be next on the list. Are we going to have any protection?”

  Digby stiffened a bit.

  “We are aware of the letters,” he said. “Undoubtedly, they will figure in the investigation.”

  “But what about us?” Shirley whined. “We need protection.”

  “Just stay close to the hotel,” Digby said. “About the letters, if you have any with you, please turn them over to Inspector Munro, whom you can consider part of this investigation, even though he is not a member of our department.”

  “But what if it’s one of us who did it?” Shirley said. We looked around uneasily.

  “Shut up and get into the car,” Bert said. “Don’t you know when to keep your mouth shut?”

  We nervously retraced our happier footsteps of earlier in the day back to our cars. The gawkers stepped aside to make way. The reporters rushed over to scrum Digby.

  “Jack, you ride with us,” my father said. “Someone else can bring your car.”

  “I’ll do it,” my mother said. Jack handed her his keys.

  Edna pushed her walker slowly towards the Denekas’ van. Peter walked over to us.

  “I have letters,” he said. “Meg doesn’t even know they came. I’ll get them to you as soon as we get to the hotel.”

  We agreed to meet in the poolside café as soon as we had straightened out our room arrangements. Then we got into the little rental car, which had been parked in the sun. We rolled down the windows and turned on the fan, which wasn’t much help.

  “What happens now?” I asked as we turned towards the highway.

  “Right now, I have to set up an interview room. Digby says the hotel’s got a conference room they’ll let us use. Then it’s just the usual drill. This case is more complicated than some, because it involves so many potential witnesses, especially ones from out of town. We’ll get basic statements from everyone who was at the dinner last night. And home addresses so we can contact them later if needed. If I was in charge of the investigation, which I’m not, I would concentrate on her teammates, the ones who saw the most of her in the past few days.”

  “She was with a bunch in the bar last night,” I said.

  “I know. Can you put together a list?”

  “I’ll check with my mother, or Edna. They can help with the ones I don’t know.”

  “Get it to me as soon as you can. Especially the ones who stayed until the end.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t notice, but I think Edna hung in, anyway.”

  We turned into the parking lot.

  “Do you mind getting involved?” I asked him.

  “I don’t mind it half as much as Donald Deutsch does.”

  “It’s like that, is it? You’ll have to use your famous tact, then.”

  “I think I forgot to bring it on this trip.”

  “Well, you were good with Jack back there.”

  He turned off the engine.

  “Well, I’m not a complete asshole. Not all the time, anyway.”

  “Relatively seldom, if you must know.”

  We got out of the car.

  “But when you are,” I said, “you take all the prizes.”

  Chapter 15

  I intercepted my mother and Edna in the lobby, and explained about Andy’s need for the list of women who had been at the post-banquet party.

  “If you can,” I said, “he wants to know who was there until the end and who left early.”

  “I was one of the first to go,” my mother said.

  “Don’t worry, Helen, I was one of the last,” Edna said. “Virna and I left at the same time.”

  “I think this is urgent,” I said. “And confidential.”

  “We’ll do it in my room, right away,” Edna said.

  “Thanks. I’ll tell Daddy where you are.”

  I went outside and lit a smoke while I waited for my father and Jack to arrive. A pickup truck pulled up near the hotel entrance where I stood and Garth Elshaw and Morley Timms got out.

  “Is it true?” Morley asked. “About Virna?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said, then introduced myself to Garth Elshaw. He was dressed in work pants and a worn cotton shirt. He held a baseball cap in his hands. I was struck by his size and his dignity.

  “How did it happen?” he asked.

  I told him what little I knew.

  “The police will be along to talk with anyone who saw her in the past few days,” I said.

  Morley Timms was looking over my shoulder, twisting his round-brimmed sun hat in his big freckled hands. I turned and saw Jack and my father.

  Timms stepped out to meet them.

  “My condolences for the loss of your mother,” he said, formally, to Jack, who thanked him.

  “It wasn’t her time yet,” Timms continued. “She was a woman in the prime of her life. It’s a terrible thing.”

  He began to cry. Garth Elshaw stepped between his friend and Jack.

  “Don’t mind Morley,” he said, softly. “He means well.”

  “Why don’t we go inside,” I said. “No point standing out in the sun.”

  Everyone turned towards the door, letting Jack go first. He went to the elevator. My father stepped up to him.

  “Would you like me to come with you? Sometimes it helps to talk.”

  “I just want to be alone for a while. I should make some calls, too. But thank you.”

  My father put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “I’ll check on you in a little while.”

  “Thank you.”

  He stepped into the elevator, looking bleak and broken. The door closed.

  “He’s pretty cut up,” Garth said.

  “He’s had a bad blow,” Morley Timms said. He turned his hat in his hands, around and around, his fingers jittering at the brim. “It puts me in mind of some of the fellows during the war. Shell-shocked, we called it. Even strong young men. We saw our share, didn’t we, Garth?”

  “I don’t think they want to hear about it, Morley,” he said.

  “He was very close to his mother,” I said, thinking of our conversation of the night before. “And of course, he loved your sister, too. It’s as if he’s lost two mothers in six months. That would be hard for anyone.”

  “He knew Wilma better than I did, at the end,” Elshaw said, with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite define. Bitterness? Or just sadness?


  “Well, let’s not stand around out here,” my father said, briskly, breaking the tension. “I think a cup of coffee might be helpful to us all.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I have to go to the room for a minute, and then I’ll join you.”

  I went and used the washroom, and was heading back down the stairs when I ran into Andy.

  “Have you got things set up?” I asked.

  “They’ve given us the conference room on the second floor for whatever we need. I’ve ordered the coffee.”

  “What about donuts?” I asked. “Can’t have an investigation without donuts. Or do Mounties go for muffins?”

  “You know their motto,” he said. “They always get their bran.”

  I groaned.

  “I’m on the way to the café by the pool,” I said. “That’s where most of the people are. I don’t think anyone wants to be alone.”

  “Given the situation, I think that’s for the best. I don’t want anyone who received one of those letters on her own right now.”

  “Jack’s gone to his room. He said he had to make some calls.”

  “I’ll check in with him.”

  “Daddy’s keeping an eye on him, too.”

  We were in the lobby by then, and were joined by Edna and my mother, who handed Andy a piece of paper.

  “These are the women who were in the bar. We’ve put ticks next to the names of the ones who were there until the end. And which one played with Virna on the Belles, or later, for the Fort Wayne Daisies. The ones we know about, anyway.”

  Andy took it and looked at it.

  “Good work,” he said. “Thanks,”

  Edna was looking very upset.

  “It was such a good time last night,” she said. “Just a bunch of gals talking about old times and laughing. You don’t think someone at that table killed her, do you?”

  “Not necessarily, but the police want to talk to the last people who saw her alive,” Andy said.

  “We weren’t the last people,” Edna said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The murderer was,” she said.

  Andy and I exchanged a quick look.

  “One of us could be the murderer, Edna,” my mother said. “Don’t you see what it looks like? We all get together for the first time in more than forty years, and this happens. It could go back to when we knew each other before.”

  “But why?” Edna asked. “She didn’t have enemies back then, that I know of. She was popular. She was the biggest star in the league.”

  “What about jealousy?” I asked. “Because she got all the attention.”

  “No one is going to kill her after all these years just because she got on the cover of Life magazine,” Edna said.

  Andy held up the list they’d made.

  “Someone here might have the answer,” he said.

  My mother changed the subject by asking me about my father’s whereabouts.

  “He’s in the café by the pool,” I said.

  “That’s where we will go, then,” she said. “Come along, Edna, we must let Andy do his work.”

  “I almost forgot,” Edna said, opening her purse.

  She handed a familiar-looking envelope to Andy, who took it and gingerly pulled out the letter.

  “It looks like the same handwriting,” he said.

  “Same different-colour inks? Same underlining?”

  “Some of the same phrases,” he said, showing me. “Is this the only one you got?”

  “Yes, just last week,” Edna said. “Do you think it’s connected?”

  “We certainly can’t rule it out.”

  “I can’t believe someone I know could have written this,” Edna said, “let alone killed Virna.”

  “You’d be surprised,” I said. “I’ve met several perfectly pleasant murderers in my day.”

  “Yes, Kate attracts murderers the way other people attract mosquitoes,” Andy said.

  “He’s exaggerating,” I said.

  “That’s why I hang out with her,” Andy continued. “She makes sure I’ll never be out of work.”

  “Cops have a strange sense of humour,” I explained after he left.

  Chapter 16

  The café was full. Not only with the former Belles and their families, but with many of the other women, too. News of Virna’s death had spread. There was a palpable sense of shock and gloom in the room. Those who were talking did so in lowered voices. My father was across the room, sitting with Morley Timms and Garth Elshaw. He waved when he saw us.

  “I’ll just go and speak with some of the other girls,” Edna said.

  My mother and I went to my father. I signalled a passing waitress, who brought us coffee.

  “I’ve just been talking to Mr. Elshaw about his sister, Wilma,” my father said.

  “Did she come back to Battleford often?” I asked.

  “Not hardly at all,” he said. He had a deliberate way of speaking, with great pauses between sentences. “She came in the summers sometimes. Her and Virna, when Jack was a boy. But once he grew up, they didn’t come. I hadn’t seen him in more than thirty years until yesterday.”

  “Not at your sister’s funeral?”

  “Didn’t go.”

  The way he said it told me not to pursue the subject, so I backtracked.

  “What was Jack like as a boy?”

  “He was a quiet one,” he said, after thinking for a few moments. “He didn’t raise heck like my wife’s two boys. They was always a bit rough for him. But he liked it on the farm all right, Jack did. He didn’t mind doing chores.”

  “Garth taught him how to hunt and fish and the like, up at the cabin,” Timms added.

  “The boy never had a father, so I did what I could for him.”

  “That was nice of you,” my mother said. “I’m sure he appreciated it.”

  “If it made any difference, I’m glad. But if it did, he forgot about it after.”

  “He never even got a card at Christmas,” Timms said, indignant on his pal’s behalf.

  “So you lost touch,” I said.

  “After my wife passed, I invited Wilma to come home,” Elshaw said, “but she wanted to stay down there in the States.”

  “And when she died, they had her cremated in Fort Wayne,” Morley Timms added. “Instead of buried in the family plot right here in Battleford. That’s not right.”

  “It was Wilma’s wishes,” Elshaw said, quietly.

  “Doesn’t make it right. You said so at the time,” he said, then turned to me. “They didn’t even have a proper funeral in a church. They had something called a celebration of her life, then Virna and Jack scattered her ashes at the ballpark. At the ballpark! Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  “Let’s just drop the subject,” Elshaw said.

  “Still say it wasn’t right,” Timms muttered.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “How did you two find out about the murder?” I asked.

  “Morley heard it on the radio and came by,” Elshaw said. “I was waiting on Virna and Jack to go to the museum.”

  “We drove by there first, but it was just the RCM Police and a bunch of fools who had nothing better to do than stare at them,” Timms said. “So we just came on over here. Figured someone here would know what happened.”

  My mother looked at her watch.

  “It’s almost one,” she fretted. “I wonder where the police are.”

  “There’s always a lot more to do at a crime scene than you think,” I said. “They have to take photographs and look for fingerprints and fibres and other evidence before they even take the body away.”

  “You know a lot about it,” Timms said. “I guess because the boyfriend is a policeman.”

  “I read a lot o
f crime novels,” I shrugged. “Andy doesn’t talk about his work. But I’m a naturally curious person. That’s why I’m a good reporter. Anytime I’m around a crime scene, I watch and learn as much as I can. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get tired of covering baseball and become a crime reporter someday.”

  “That’s not fit work for a woman,” Timms said, shaking his round head. I smiled.

  “Crime and death, that’s men’s business,” he continued. “You should leave that alone. You wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

  “You’d be surprised what women’s stomachs can take these days,” I said.

  “Mr. Timms, I suggest that you’re treading on dangerous ground,” my father said, mildly. “I learned long ago not to tell Kate what to do.”

  “He’s a bit old-fashioned,” Elshaw said.

  “Nothing old-fashioned about good moral values,” Timms went on. “When plain decency and common sense go out of fashion, that’s the day you can dig that hole and plant me in it.”

  “I’m all for common sense, too,” I said. “And politeness. Especially politeness.”

  Timms beamed.

  “See, now. Me and Miss Henry get along just fine. We’re kindred spirits.”

  “You bet, Mr. Timms,” I said.

  “What did you do for a living?” my mother asked. “I guess you’re retired now. Did you farm?”

  “No, I’m not retired,” he said. “I’m busy all the time.”

  “What is it you do?”

  “Most anything. Odd job man. Mr. Fix-it. That’s me. I never really took to farming. I have to be my own boss. I work when I want to and there’s no one to tie me down. Of course, the government pays me, too. For what I did in the war.”

  “I see,” I said, not seeing.

  “Every month, they send me a cheque. It doesn’t make me rich, but I get by.”

  “It’s the disability pay,” Elshaw explained. “He’s been getting it for fifty years.”

  “And you said last night that you never married?” I asked.