Creeps Suzette

by Mary Daheim

  Just as they started up the staircase, Dr. Stevens began his descent. “Nurse Fritz will be here shortly. I’ve been in Mrs. Burgess’s sitting room, standing guard.” He paused and looked slightly sheepish. “Maybe that sounds silly, but you never know. Would you mind taking over for me until the nurse arrives? I’ve just been paged by the hospital.”

  Renie sagged against Judith. “Can I jump in bed with the old girl?” she asked. “I’m beat.”

  “I’ll stay,” Judith volunteered.

  “Ooh…” Renie gave Judith another jab. “Okay, okay. I’ll stretch out on the settee.”

  “Good.” Dr. Stevens smiled at the cousins. “Oh, by the way, I should get Dr. Moss’s key to the house. I suppose I’m now the official Creepers physician.”

  Judith didn’t think he looked pleased by the prospect, but she made no comment. “The keys probably went with the body,” she said. “You’ll have to get them later, when you or whoever collect the rest of his belongings. Did he have family?”

  Dr. Stevens looked away to the spot where Dr. Moss had been found. “No. He and Mrs. Moss were childless and his only brother died several years ago.”

  Danny Wong came through the entry hall and into the staircase area. “Forgot my pen,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

  “Detective,” Dr. Stevens called after him. “When will I be able to retrieve Dr. Moss’s keys?”

  Danny turned around. “What keys?”

  The doctor frowned. “Pardon?”

  “There weren’t any keys,” Danny replied. “His wallet, credit cards, everything else was there in his cape pocket. But no keys. Odd, huh?”

  Judith thought it was more than odd, it was downright suspicious.

  The cousins peeked in on Mrs. Burgess, who was sleeping soundly. Renie flopped down on the settee by the phone and looked for a directory. “I know Bev’s number, but I forget the international calling code.” She leaned over and fished around in the side table drawers. “Here it is.”

  A few moments later, Renie was talking to Bev. “No,” Renie said, “it’s not bad news about your mother…Well, it’s not exactly good news, either…Remember Dr. Moss?…Let me put it this way, remember the late Dr. Moss? He was killed this evening and…sort of fell on top of your mother…” This time, Renie’s pause was longer. “No, of course not. If he’d been pushed off the roof, I would’ve said so. Somebody hit him in the back of the head, apparently while he was talking to your…No, I’ve no idea who did it…Yes, really, your mother’s fine. Judith and I found them at the bottom of the…”

  Judith stood by the fireplace and listened to the wind in the chimney while Renie finished her story. It took some time, with many interruptions from Bev. Finally, Renie ended the conversation.

  “Yes,” she said, her words a bit slurred from weariness, “they were going to notify Peggy and Wayne as soon as possible…Yes, I realize Kenneth may be unstable…What kind of animals?…Oh, those kinds of animals…No, I don’t know how the servants are taking it…Please, Bev, don’t worry so…No, don’t think of coming home at this point. The police will sort it all out. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll let you know what’s happening, okay?”

  Renie finally hung up and promptly assumed a fetal position on the settee.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me what Bev said?” Judith asked in an incredulous voice.

  “No,” Renie muttered. “It was nothing important.” She burrowed her head into a trio of small satin pillows.

  “How,” Judith demanded, pacing the floor, “can you possibly sleep? I can’t stand it. I feel as if I should be talking to the staff, or Kenneth, or whomever. Where were all the family members when the murder occurred? Virtually everybody lives close by. They’re all recognizable by the guards at the gatehouse. Did Dr. Moss say anything to the guard when he was waved through? Did you really hear footsteps outside the library?”

  “Mmm,” Renie rolled over, her face against the back of the settee.

  “What about the weapon? Surely it must be one of those statues or fireplace tools or another one of the dozens of lethal items in the entry hall and the staircase area. Why was there dirt on the floor? It hadn’t started raining yet—the ground was dry. Are there footprints outside?”

  Renie said nothing.

  Judith went to the window and peered through the heavy drapes. “It’s really blowing and the rain’s coming down hard. But the storm didn’t move in until after Dr. Moss was killed. Have any telltale footprints been washed away by the rain?”

  Renie was snoring softly. Judith started moving away from the window, then noticed a faint light in one of the outbuildings to her far right. She tried to identify which one, but between her unfamiliarity with the garden’s layout and the rain slashing against the windows, she couldn’t tell.

  But she could go look. A sleeping Renie wasn’t as effective a watchdog as an alert Renie, but at least she was there. Judith left the suite and hurried down the hall to check from her own rooms where the angle was much better.

  It took a minute, but Judith got her bearings. The light was coming from the pool house. Putting on her walking shoes and raincoat, she started back down the hall, then stopped. The back stairs had to be nearby. Judith didn’t want to run into the detectives again, at least not just now. If the main staircase was outside Mrs. Burgess’s suite, then the back stairs should be in the same area, only to the rear of the house. But there was just one more room before the hall dead-ended into a large linen closet. She retraced her steps, and suddenly an idea struck her: The back stairs must run behind Mrs. Burgess’s suite.

  Returning to the sitting room, Judith found Renie still sound asleep. There was a door on her left, which she hadn’t noticed before. The doorknob turned easily to reveal a small well-organized office, complete with a brand-new computer. There was, however, no stairway, though it looked as if at one time there had been another door in the opposite wall. The outline remained, and the space had been painted over with a mural of tropical birds.

  Judith tiptoed into the bedroom. A nightlight covered by a china seashell cast a soft glow over Mrs. Burgess, who also appeared to be in a deep sleep. The walk-in closet next to the bathroom didn’t contain a stairway, either.

  Standing at the foot of the big four-poster bed, Judith peered in every direction. Finally, she saw a Chinese screenin the far corner of the boudoir. Sure enough, there was a door behind it—and a stairway. She also saw the elevator to the right of the stairwell, but decided against using it. The last thing she needed was to get stuck between floors.

  If there was a light switch, Judith couldn’t find it. Treading carefully down the narrow wooden steps, she reached the bottom and realized she was facing another door. She reasoned that it had to be the one she’d seen when she and Renie had come in the back way after their tour of the grounds.

  She was not, however, prepared for the bright lights that met her eyes when she opened the door. She could hear voices in the kitchen, but could distinguish only Ada Dietz’s and Edna Thompson’s. Perhaps they were preparing some food for the rest of the staff and the detectives. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

  Judith scurried past the open kitchen door where she caught a few of Ada’s words. “It’s that Suzette, she’s always brought trouble to this house. If you ask me, there’s no end to it.”

  Judith froze in place, but Edna’s response was too soft to hear. Then what sounded like the dishwasher was turned on, drowning out both of the women’s voices.

  Judith went outside. The wind whipped at her coat and the rain pelted her face. Head down, she followed the faint light that shone in what she thought was the pool house.

  By the time she reached the door, her nightgown and her hair were soaked. Cautiously turning the knob, she went inside and found herself in what was the changing area where an overhead light had been switched on.

  I’m an idiot, she thought. Why on earth have I come out here in a big storm? Probably someone had carelessly left the light on.
For all she knew, they always kept a light burning in the pool house. But Judith couldn’t just turn around and go to bed. She felt a need for activity, and, as usual, her curiosity got the better of her. Smiling grimly, she thought of herself as a racehorse, sniffing the finish line. Judith couldn’t stop in the home stretch; she had to keep going.

  She passed by the dressing rooms and the bathroom, then went through a door that led to the pool itself. The smell of chlorine was strong in her nostrils. In the faint light that followed her from the dressing area, she could see the Olympic-sized pool as well as some chairs and tables.

  Adjusting to the near-darkness, her gaze wandered around the edges of the pool. There were potted plants, too, and a bar in one corner. It looked like a very pleasant place for a swim.

  Finally, she took in the area at the near end of the pool. Judith could hear the wind wailing through the trees. She hugged the raincoat closer, and shivered in spite of herself.

  Then she saw it. Huddled in the corner was another pile of clothes. It was like a flashback to the scene at the bottom of the staircase.

  Oh, God, she thought, not another body. Judith swayed slightly, then forced herself to approach. She got within two feet before she recognized the form of a young woman in a fleece jacket. Sucking in her breath, Judith reached out a trembling hand to feel for a pulse.

  The young woman’s arms flailed and her legs kicked. Then she let out a blood-curdling scream that was almost swallowed by the next gust of wind.

  One of the flying feet caught Judith off-guard, and she tumbled backward. Losing her balance, she fell into the swimming pool, where the wet tangle of raincoat and nightgown weighed her down.

  At least, Judith thought as her head struck the hard tiles at the pool’s side, this one’s still alive. But am I?

  She sank to the bottom and everything suddenly went dark.

  EIGHT

  FROM OUT OF the depths and deep in the night, Judith felt hands tugging at her arms. We’ve hit an iceberg, she could hear the Titanic’s captain say. We’re going down.

  But Judith was coming up. The hands that pulled at her arms were strong. They must belong to the hiking boots she could see at the edge of the pool. Man? Woman? Leonardo DiCaprio?

  Slowly, she looked up and tried to focus her eyes. The ship had stopped spinning. But there was no iceberg and the creature with the mass of frizzy strawberry-blond hair was no actor, but a young woman. Judith realized she was not in the North Atlantic, but in the Burgess swimming pool.

  “My God!” the young woman cried. “I’m so sorry! Let me help!”

  Judith felt that was only fair, since this must be the person who had knocked her into the pool in the first place. Sputtering, Judith clambered onto dry ground.

  “You’re all wet,” her savior declared. “Can you forgive me?”

  “I was half-wet before I fell in,” Judith responded, brushing hair out of her eyes and trying to get her bearings. “Who did you think I was? And who are you?”

  “I thought you were a fiendish rapist,” the young woman answered in a high-pitched voice.

  “Do I look like a fiendish rapist?” Judith retorted, wringing out her raincoat.

  The young woman backed away. “No…no, of course not. But I was in Arcadia.”

  Judith gave a start. “Arcadia?” Seeing a faraway look come into the young woman’s eyes, Judith held up a hand. She’d had enough fantasy for one night already. “Never mind. I’m Judith Flynn, a friend of Mrs. Burgess,” she said, stretching the truth a bit as she rubbed at the bump on the back of her head. “Now please tell me who you are.”

  The dreamy expression turned wary. “Do I know you?”

  “It doesn’t seem so,” Judith said, growing impatient and beginning to shiver from the cold, wet garments. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’m going back to the house. My head hurts.”

  “Oh.” The young woman gazed at the pool. She gazed at the ceiling. She gazed at the floor. She was almost as tall as Judith, but her thin figure and the untamed masses of reddish-blond hair lent a wraithlike air. After coming to what appeared to be an excruciating decision, she finally spoke: “I’m Caroline Flaherty.”

  The name Flaherty meant nothing to Judith, but Caroline rang a bell. “You’re…a granddaughter?”

  Caroline nodded. “My mother’s Peggy Hillman now, but my father’s name was Ward. Flaherty’s my married name.”

  Judith gave an absent nod. As far as she could tell, Caroline didn’t act as if she knew about any of the events that had transpired during the past few hours at Creepers. Judith could ask, but now wasn’t the time. Her priorities were a throbbing head and a chilled body.

  “I think we should go inside,” Judith said, then pointed to a backpack that rested against the tiles. “Is that yours?”

  Caroline frowned at the dark green item. “Is it? Oh—yes. I was using it for a pillow.”

  As the wind howled in the trees, Judith led the way tothe house. “We’ll take the back stairs,” she said. “We can go up to my room.”

  Caroline had stopped walking and stood staring up at the bulk that was Creepers. “Why are so many lights on? Isn’t it still nighttime?”

  “Yes, it must be around two-thirty. Come on, I’ll explain when we get inside.”

  Caroline didn’t budge. “Has something happened to Gran’mère?” she asked in an uncertain voice.

  “Gran’mère? Oh—your grandmother. No,” Judith assured the young woman, “she’s fine. But she’s asleep. Hurry, I’m frozen to the bone and I need some aspirin.”

  The kitchen had been vacated, and the dishwasher churned in the darkness. Judith and Caroline climbed the narrow back stairs. “You probably know the way better than I do,” Judith said to her companion. “I assume you grew up around here.”

  “Yes,” Caroline replied. “Kenneth and I sometimes stayed here when we were children, but my parents lived a few miles away, in a nice house overlooking the sound. After the divorce, Mommy and my stepdad stayed on, but then he got killed in Vietnam. Way back, when my parents got married, my real daddy didn’t…” Her high-pitched voice trailed away.

  “I take it he preferred not to be so near his in-laws,” Judith remarked dryly.

  “Yes…in a way,” Caroline replied.

  “Understandable,” Judith said, opening the door to Mrs. Burgess’s suite and signaling for Caroline to be quiet.

  The mistress of the house was still sound asleep. Caroline tiptoed past the bed with a whispered, “Cher Gran’mère.” As they reached the door to the sitting room, Judith heard low, angry voices. One of them sounded as if it belonged to Renie.

  A rawboned middle-aged woman in full nurse’s regalia stood with hands on hips, facing off with a pugnacious Renie.

  “Listen, Glitz or Ritz or Ditz or whatever your name is,” Renie snarled, “I don’t take orders from anybody except Bill and even that’s a sometime thing. If you want to get out of here with your appendages still somewhere in the vicinity of your torso, you’d better—”

  She broke off, following the nurse’s startled gaze. “Coz,” Renie said, her jaw dropping as she took in Judith’s appearance. “What happened?”

  “Never mind,” said Judith. “What’s happening here?”

  “Meet Nurse Zitz,” Renie said, still staring at her cousin.

  “Fritz,” the nurse shot back, glaring at Renie. “Millicent Fritz.” She transferred the glare to Judith, then hesitated as she saw Caroline quivering in the background. “My dear, is that you, Carrie?”

  “Miss Fritz?” Tremulously, Caroline moved out from behind Judith. “Hi.” She waved a thin hand in the nurse’s direction.

  “Well, now.” Fritz beamed with apparent pleasure. “I haven’t seen you since your grandmother had her gall bladder attack four years ago. I wasn’t able to come when she sprained her ankle last fall. My, you really haven’t changed.”

  “Too bad,” muttered Renie, who was now standing next to Judith. “She could have used some im
provement. Who’s this one?”

  “Caroline, Peggy’s kid,” Judith said between clenched teeth. “Are we unwanted in here?”

  Caroline and the nurse had finished their friendly exchange. Fritz turned a gimlet eye on the cousins. “Mrs. Burgess’s granddaughter is here. You two may go.”

  “That answers my question,” Judith said. “Bye.”

  Renie let out an exasperated sigh. “Swell. Now I’ve lost face, not to mention sleep.” She turned to the nurse. “I guess I can’t send you to the OR after all, Pitz. We’ll take up where we left in the morning, right where you called me ‘a buck-toothed interfering nobody.’” Renie sashayed out of the sitting room.

  “She really said that?” Judith gasped when they reached the hall.

  “Sort of,” Renie replied. “At least she was thinking it. Now tell me why you’re all wet.”

  In their suite, Judith made a beeline for the pillbox she always carried in her purse. Before saying another word, she gulped down two aspirin. As she got out of her wet clothes, she rapidly summed up her adventures in the pool house.

  Renie was already under the covers. “Your poor head. Did you really black out?”

  “I sure did,” Judith replied. “At least for a few seconds.”

  Renie gave her cousin a weary yet sympathetic smile. “I should have been with you.”

  “You were asleep,” Judith said dryly.

  Renie made a face. “I was at that.” She paused to arrange the pillows. “So Caroline’s the poet,” she remarked. “How’d she end up out back?”

  Judith sighed. “I’ve no idea. I never got a chance to ask her. How did you and Nurse Fritz get into it?”

  “I’m not a Burgess,” Renie said between yawns, “and in that old bat’s mind, you might as well be a blister on the big toe of life.”

  Judith shrugged as she headed into the bathroom. “I assume Fritz will tell Caroline about Dr. Moss. I wonder when she arrived. It must have been before the medics and the police got here or she would have asked what was going on.”