Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 02 - Dead Ringer

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by Toni L. P. Kelner


  “That’s kind of early,” I said, but Vasti wasn’t listening. I heard voices in the background, and Vasti called out, “Not like that! Make the picture of me and Arthur bigger. Laurie Anne, I’ve got to go. Once you get the envelopes stuffed and all, you can bring them over here and run them through the postage meter. Now they have to be in the mail by one o’clock, so I’ll expect you here no later than noon. Bye now!”

  I hung up the phone and said, “The good news is that we have a usable excuse. The bad news is that we have to be at the Marstons’s house by nine and we’re on a deadline.”

  “I think we can manage,” Richard said. “Now, since there is nothing productive we can do as regards the investigation, you can shut down your computer.”

  I did so, and asked, “Did you have an idea of how to spend the rest of the evening?”

  “I thought we could go to bed.”

  “I’m not sleepy.”

  “I’m not either.”

  That was a good enough reason for me. After all, I reminded myself as we headed upstairs, we were on vacation.

  Chapter 10

  In deference to Vasti’s deadline, we were up bright and early the next morning. Aunt Maggie was up and moving, too, and we went with her to get sausage biscuits at Hardee’s before going our separate ways.

  We got to the Marstons’s house just before nine. There wasn’t much money in Byerly, but what there was of it was in that neighborhood. Acyle Marston had been president of the Byerly Bank before he retired, and had done very well for himself. His wife Diamond had never had to work outside the home, other than charity work.

  Even though Uncle John Ward had been an only child, the Marston house had five bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. The Marstons had the carpet cleaned professionally twice a year, and replaced the curtains every time they got faded. The furniture was so fine that it required special polishes.

  How did I know all of this? Because Vasti had told me all about it when we were growing up. Richard was right—I was jealous. My father’s parents had died before I was born, and though Paw was always wonderful to me, he never had any money. The idea of rich grandparents to spoil me had sounded mighty attractive when I was younger. In fact, it still did.

  Diamond Marston answered the front door almost before we rang it. She was a tiny thing, with snow–white hair and nearly translucent skin, but I could see a lot of Vasti’s spirit in the way she moved.

  “Well if it isn’t Laurie Anne!” she said with a big smile. “You look wonderful. Vasti said she didn’t think Boston was good for you, but I believe it is. And this must be Richard. I was so glad to hear that you found a job. Come on in.”

  “I see Vasti has been talking about us,” I whispered as Richard and I followed her inside. Somehow Vasti had never understood that going to graduate school was at least as much work as a job, and that the teaching fellowships Richard had taken along the way were jobs. Well, I couldn’t hold it against Mrs. Marston if she believed everything her granddaughter told her.

  “I’ve got the envelopes and things set up in the kitchen,” Diamond said. “I didn’t have any idea it would take me this long to finish. It was awfully smart of Vasti to ask you to help.”

  I suppose I could have told her that Richard and I had volunteered, but all I said, was, “It sure was.”

  The kitchen was just as nice and shiny as Vasti had always said it was. Maybe the Marstons didn’t really replace the appliances every other year, but everything was as neat as a pin. Acyle Marston, a plump man whose watery blue eyes seemed magnified by the thick lenses of his eyeglasses, was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, folding a flyer with infinite precision.

  “Acyle, you remember Vasti’s cousin Laurie Anne, don’t you?” Diamond said. He kept on folding without looking up. “Acyle? Acyle! Turn your hearing aid back on!”

  He looked up, and then stuck a finger in each ear and twisted. “That’s better,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “I turned them off when the dishwasher was going, and forgot to turn them back on.”

  “This is Vasti’s cousin Laurie Anne Fleming,” Diamond said, “and this is her husband Richard.”

  He stood and shook hands with us both. “Glad to hear about your job, young man,” he said to Richard. “I know it’s hard to get a start these days, even with a college degree.”

  “Times are tough, Mr. Marston,” Richard said solemnly.

  “Oh just call us Acyle and Diamond,” Diamond said brightly. “We’re all related to Vasti, so that makes us almost family, doesn’t it? Now you two sit yourselves down. Can I get y’all some iced tea or a soft drink?” Richard and I accepted something to drink, and then we all settled around the table.

  “Now this is what we have to do,” Diamond began. “We fold these papers in three so they’ll fit into an envelope. Then we seal them up, and address them. Acyle’s been folding, and if Richard will put them in the envelope and seed them, Laurie Anne and I can address them.” She patted a list beside her. “We’re mailing one to every registered voter in Byerly, and that’s quite a few.”

  We got started in silence. “Why don’t you use a computer to generate mailing labels?” I said after a while of addressing envelopes by hand. “It would be a lot quicker.”

  “But that would be so impersonal,” Diamond said. “Byerly folks wouldn’t like that. The way I look at it, we’re asking these people for their votes. That’s an important thing to ask for, and they deserve a few minutes of personal attention at the very least.”

  My computer programmer’s soul didn’t like it, but it did make sense, I kept addressing envelopes, wondering how I could ask about what I wanted to know. “Aunt Daphine showed me some pictures of Uncle John Ward last night,” I finally said. “He sure was a handsome fellow.”

  “Wasn’t he though? Just like his father,” Diamond said, looking at Acyle fondly.

  I must admit I couldn’t see much of a resemblance between this man and the boy in the photographs, but I nodded anyway.

  “What a shame that he and Aunt Daphine didn’t have any more time together than they did,” I said. “His dying so soon after their wedding was so sad.”

  I was watching Diamond’s face carefully, but I couldn’t see any signs of guilty knowledge when she said, “It’s a terrible thing losing a son so young, but at least we’ve had Daphine and Vasti to love all these years. Daphine was like the daughter we never had, even before John Ward died, and I can’t tell you what a comfort she was to us afterward.”

  I looked at Richard, and he gave the tiniest of shrugs. Maybe Diamond was faking it, but her affection for Aunt Daphine sure sounded sincere to me.

  She went on, “And of course Vasti has been our pride and joy. You two are too young to know what I mean, but when you’ve got children and grandchildren someday, you’ll understand. Seeing her happy is so important to us. Isn’t that right, Acyle?”

  He nodded emphatically. “Vasti’s the best little girl in the world. She’d give us the shirt right off her back if we needed it.”

  Only if the shirt was borrowed, I thought meanly, but then I relented. Vasti probably was at her best around her grandparents, because she sure wasn’t wasting it on me.

  “I just hope Arthur wins this election,” Diamond said. “Vasti is so ambitious for herself, just like John Ward was. Of course he never got a chance, but he had such plans.” She shook her head sadly. “War is a terrible thing. We always lose the best and brightest.”

  “Byerly must have lost a lot of young men,” I said.

  “Too many,” Acyle said. “We used to look at the paper every week and count up our dead. John Ward was the first. Then Small Bill Walters just a few months later. There was a real smart boy named Philip who used to run errands for us down at the bank. Philip … What was his last name, Diamond?”

  Diamond thought for a minute. “I can’t remember for the life of me. They say that the memory is the first to go.” She shook her head ruefully. “So many lost. And some
who did come back never were the same. Reggie Rogers had nightmares for years, and he never would talk about them. Larry Parker still has that limp. Ed McDonald lost two fingers on his left hand, but luckily he was right–handed. Did you hear that Ed died just recently, Laurie Anne?”

  “I heard,” I said. “What a shame.”

  “You know she and Ed never had any children,” Diamond said, “so Clara doesn’t have a soul to look after her now.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I said. Clara was a grown woman, after all.

  “I suppose so, but I can’t help but think that I could have ended up the same way, what with John Ward dying so young and if Acyle were to pass on before me. Of course, I’ve got Vasti.”

  Acyle rumbled, “Diamond, can’t you find something more cheerful to talk about? These young folks don’t want to hear about this.”

  Diamond smiled. “I’m sorry. When you get to be my age, you start thinking a lot about things like that. What were we talking about before?”

  “About Aunt Daphine and John Ward,” I prompted. “Only I guess I should call him Uncle John Ward, since he was Aunt Daphine’s husband.”

  There was no reaction from the Marstons other than interested nods.

  “I remember Vasti telling me about them when we were little,” I went on. “Aunt Daphine driving all night to get to him, their eloping, the honeymoon. It was such a romantic story.”

  Diamond just smiled like she was remembering. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought that she had never known that Aunt Daphine hadn’t married Uncle John Ward. Maybe the Marstons had been telling the story for so long that they had started to believe it themselves.

  I gave up after that, and put my attention toward addressing envelopes. Richard did steer the conversation over toward finances, and from what they said, the Marstons were in good shape. Of course, like Paw used to say, you can’t always believe people when they’re talking about money, but what they said did fit in with what people in town had always said about them.

  After that was settled, at least in my mind, we talked about all kinds of things: a trip they had once made to Boston, the way Byerly had changed, even a little about Shakespeare. We got the envelopes finished by eleven–thirty, and Richard and I had to insist that we couldn’t stay for lunch, explaining there wasn’t time if we wanted to get the fliers in the mail. Then we hugged and shook hands goodbye.

  I could see why Aunt Daphine couldn’t believe that the Marstons were involved in blackmail. I envied Vasti her grandparents more than ever before, and it wasn’t because of their money. They were nice people.

  Chapter 11

  Our next stop was Arthur’s campaign headquarters, which was in the basement of his and Vasti’s house. We had to ring the doorbell twice before we finally heard Vasti running up the stairs.

  “It’s about time,” she said. “I thought you were going to be here by eleven–thirty.”

  “You said by noon,” I reminded her.

  “Did I? Well, come on in. You don’t need any help carrying those, do you?” She was halfway down the stairs to the basement before we could answer, and Richard and I followed her.

  There were four or five other people rushing around the basement with posters and boxes of buttons. “Not in there!” Vasti called out to a woman as we came in. “Put them over by the things for the garden party.”

  A harried–looking woman complied.

  “There’s the postage meter,” Vasti said, pointing. “Run the envelopes through just as fast as you can, and you should have enough time to get them in the mail today.” The telephone rang, and she ran to answer it.

  “Quite an impressive setup,” Richard said as we put down our boxes and pulled off our jackets. “I didn’t realize that Arthur has so many supporters.”

  “Well, not to put down Arthur, but I recognize most of these people as either working for him at the dealership or being married to someone who does. That might have something to do with it.”

  “A political machine in Byerly?”

  “Something like that.” We figured out how to use the postage meter and started running the envelopes through as people kept moving all around us. There was just a small stack left to go when Vasti came over holding two posters with “Bumgarner for Byerly” in different typefaces.

  “Laurie Anne, which do you like better?” Vasti asked.

  I pointed to the left one. “That one.”

  Vasti wrinkled her nose at it. “That one?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I think I like the other one better.” She waved her choice at one of the workers and said, “Jane, order a batch of this one and tell them that we need them right away.” She reached for the phone, which was ringing again.

  “So touching that she trusts your opinion,” Richard said with a trace of irritation. “Why did she ask if she wasn’t going to listen?”

  “She always does that,” I answered. “That’s why I picked the one I didn’t like instead of the one that I did. It works every time.”

  “Of course,” Richard said, shaking his head.

  By then we had the envelopes finished, and Vasti was off of the phone for a minute. I asked, “Vasti, do you want us to take these down to the post office?”

  “Would you? Is there time to get them in today’s mail?” Then she looked at her watch, and answered her own question. “There is, thank goodness, if you hurry.”

  “Then we’ll see you later,” I said, and Richard and I picked up the boxes.

  We were halfway up the stairs when Vasti said, “Wait! Did I invite y’all to my garden party? You’re going to be in town through this weekend, aren’t you?”

  “We’re planning to be,” I answered. “What garden party?”

  “It’s for charity, one of Dorcas Walters’s projects. She said something about it last week, and I knew she wanted me to volunteer to put it together, though how she thought I’d have the time, I’ll never know. But of course I had to say I would so she’d see how civic–minded I am. It’s bound to help get votes, and maybe Big Bill will finally make up his mind to endorse Arthur.”

  “What charity is it for?” I asked.

  “Oh, widows or orphans or something like that. I’ve got some literature on it somewhere around here, if you’re interested.” She waved her hands around vaguely.

  “That’s all right,” I said. “I’m sure it’s a good cause. Richard?”

  He nodded. “Sounds good to me. When is it?”

  “Saturday. So y’all will come?”

  “Count us in,” I said.

  “Good! Do you have enough cash now or do you want to write a check?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said it was for charity, didn’t I? It’s only forty dollars a couple, and I felt sure that Richard had been working long enough to be able to afford that.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her off for something, but honestly, I didn’t know where to start. In the meantime, Richard put down his box, pulled out his wallet, and extracted two twenties to hand to Vasti. “Here you go.”

  “Oh good!” she said and tucked the money into her pocket. “I hope you don’t want a receipt for taxes, because I don’t have any idea of where the pad is.”

  “That’s all right,” Richard said, retrieving his box.

  We started back up the stairs when Vasti said, “Oh, I should warn you that Linwood and Sue are going to be at the garden party, too.”

  “I can handle Linwood,” I said. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I wasn’t about to spend the rest of my life avoiding him.

  “I was kind of surprised he wanted to come, to tell you the truth,” Vasti said, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be in a hurry. “I know he’s out of work so I told him that I wouldn’t think anything of it if he didn’t have the money, but he pulled out a wad big enough to choke a horse and peeled off the money just as quick as anything. I wonder where he’s getting it.”

  “Have you heard anything …?” I started
to ask, but Vasti looked at her watch again.

  “Well what are y’all waiting for? You’re going to miss the mail if you don’t get a move on.”

  I bit my tongue and headed up the stairs. What with the campaign and all, I was willing to cut Vasti some slack this time. And she wasn’t that much worse than usual.

  “Did you hear what she said about Linwood?” I asked Richard as we were getting back into the car.

  “How could I not hear something that Vasti says?”

  “Her voice does carry, doesn’t it? Anyway, what she said about Linwood means that he fits into one of our categories. Someone who has more money than he should.”

  “It’s possible,” Richard said mildly.

  I nodded sadly. Goodness knows that Linwood and I had had our differences, but I really didn’t want to believe that he could be a blackmailer.

  “Do you think he’d blackmail his own aunt?” Richard asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t think I should make that kind of prediction about my family anymore, not after last time.”

  Richard patted my hand comfortingly, but said, “It probably wouldn’t hurt to check him out.”

  We dropped off the fliers at the post office, and then headed back for Aunt Maggie’s house. After making and eating sandwiches for lunch, I hit the telephone. Since Linwood and I weren’t on speaking terms, I thought it best to approach the subject of his income via the family grapevine.

  Aunt Nora was generally a good source, but since she wasn’t home, I called Aunt Ruby Lee instead. Of course, I couldn’t jump right into the reason I was calling, so that meant a few minutes of talking about her kids. This gave me a more or less smooth opening to talk about other cousins, and then to work my way over toward Linwood.

  “That new baby of Linwood’s sure is a cutie,” I said once I thought it wouldn’t sound too much like it was out of the blue.

  “Isn’t she though?” Aunt Ruby Lee said. “She’s a good baby, too. With Tiffany and Jason around, their house stays stirred up, but Sue says Crystal doesn’t seem to mind, no matter how loud it gets.”

 

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