by Mary Daheim
“Whatever.” Renie had turned over on her side.
Judith took a hot shower, finally getting the chill out of her bones. Since she’d exchanged her bathrobe for her raincoat, she decided to sleep in the robe. The nightgown wouldn’t be dry until morning. When she returned to the bedroom, Renie was out for the count.
But Judith wasn’t sleepy. The events of the past few hours had started the adrenaline flowing. Or perhaps it was the fall into the pool. Whatever the cause, she felt wide awake. After about five minutes of staring into the darkness, Judith got up to get the book she’d brought along. She’d just taken it out of her suitcase when she heard a frantic pounding from somewhere in the vicinity. Going into the sitting room, she realized that someone was knocking on their door.
“Who is it?” she asked, her ear to the heavy oak.
“Caroline,” came the reply. “Help me, please!”
“Just a minute.” Judith dashed to the other end of the room and closed the bedroom door, then returned to let Caroline in. “My cousin’s sleeping,” she cautioned. “What’s wrong?”
The younger woman fell into a damask-covered armchair. “It’s Dr. Moss. He’s been murdered, and the police will think I did it!”
“Why?” Judith asked, sitting down on the settee.
“Because,” Caroline replied, putting her thumb in her mouth like a small child.
Trying to convey an aura of calm, Judith folded her hands in her lap. “Let’s start from the beginning. When did you arrive at Creepers?”
Slowly, Caroline removed her thumb. Judith figured she must be in her thirties, but like her brother Kenneth, she looked and acted much younger. “I’m not sure,” Caroline said vaguely. “The house was dark except for a light or two on the third floor in the servants’ quarters. It was so quiet, like a crypt…the silence of sadness, the gloom of doom, the empty womb. I felt inspired to write a poem. I didn’t think I should bother Gran’mère, so I went out to the pool house and fell asleep until you woke me up.”
“You’d come from…where?” Judith asked, recalling only that Caroline lived somewhere north of the city.
“La Bido,” Caroline replied. “I have a cottage there. We creative types band together in the town. It’s quite an artists’ community.”
Judith knew the picturesque little town, which was on the edge of an Indian reservation. It was about an hour’s drive from Sunset Cliffs, if traffic wasn’t heavy on the interstate.
“Your husband lives there, too?” Judith asked, already knowing the answer.
Caroline shook her head, sending the wild frizzy hair flying around her shoulders. “Brett and I are separated. We used to live together in La Bido, but last summer he rented a place on the ocean. I haven’t seen him since.”
“What brought you here?” Judith inquired, trying to sound casual.
“I wanted to talk to Gran’mère.” Caroline lowered her eyes. “I wanted to ask her about something.”
“Why would anyone think you murdered Dr. Moss?”
Caroline’s gray eyes widened. “Because. Because I was so mad at him when Daddy was killed.”
Judith gave herself a little shake. “Why was that?”
“Dr. Moss was the one who found Daddy by the side of the road.” Caroline paused, her eyes filling with tears. “I always blamed him for not being able to save Daddy.”
“I thought your father was killed in a car accident,” Judith said, feeling somewhat at sea.
Caroline wiped at her eyes and nodded. “He was. It was a hit-and-run, up by the golf course. Daddy’s car broke down, and he’d gotten out, probably coming to Creepers for help. At least that’s what we figured afterward.”
“Goodness,” Judith whispered, “I didn’t know any of the specifics about the accident. Did they catch the person who hit him?”
“No.” Caroline’s hands twisted in distress. “It was about the time that night classes let out at the community college. The authorities figured it was a student who was in a big hurry to get home.”
“How was it that Dr. Moss found your father?” Judith asked.
Caroline grimaced. “I don’t remember exactly. It happened four years ago. I’ve written so many poems about it that I’ve lost sight of the actual facts. Imagery, emotion, meter—they’re far more important than reality.”
“Um…yes, I suppose so.” Judith murmured. “I don’t imagine you have any idea who’d want to kill Dr. Moss?”
Caroline shook her head very slowly. “Only me. But I’ve written my way out of that vengeful aura.”
“That’s good,” Judith said, trying to smile. “Do you think the killer might have made a mistake?”
Caroline stared at Judith. “A mistake? How do you mean?”
Judith winced. “Well…Did you know your grandmother felt…threatened?”
The laugh that Caroline emitted was as high-pitched as her speech, but quite merry. “Of course! At her age, she’s looking into the future, trying to penetrate the Other Side. Being Gran’mère, she enjoys a touch of drama. I’ve inherited that trait from her, but I use it in my poetry.”
“But you’re not a blood relation,” Judith blurted.
The merriment died. “No,” Caroline admitted. “I’m not. She’s really my stepgrandmother. But I never think of her like that. She’s the only grandmother I’ve ever known.”
“Of course,” Judith went on in a soothing tone, “traits can be picked up by environment and association. Her imagination no doubt rubbed off on you.”
“Yes,” Caroline asserted, her smile emerging again. “I’m sure that’s how it worked. Anyway, I’ve never worried about anyone trying to kill her. In fact, I’ve encouraged her to come up with more ideas. Eventually, I’ll work them into an epic verse. A kind of saga, you see.”
“Mmm,” Judith murmured, wondering if Caroline’s talent was genuine. “Have you been published?”
“Oh, yes.” Caroline nodded several times. “I had a poem published just last month by a small press in Japan.”
“Japan?”
Caroline nodded some more. “It was haiku, and Uncle Tom translated it for me.”
It took Judith a moment to recall that Uncle Tom was Bev’s husband. “That’s wonderful,” she said as weariness suddenly overcame her like a big, dark cloud. “It’s three A.M. I’m going to bed. Are you going to stay in the tower with your brother, Kenneth?”
Alarm enveloped Caroline, who began rocking back and forth in the armchair. “No! Kenneth can’t be staying there. That’s impossible.”
“Why?” Judith inquired in a reasonable tone. “I gathered he usually stays there. Aren’t those your old rooms?”
“Yes, yes,” Caroline replied, nodding jerkily. “But they’re haunted.”
“They are? By whom?”
Caroline bowed her head, the wild hair covering her face. “By Suzette,” she said in a barely audible voice. “I’ll stay next door, between you and Gran’mère. I won’t be frightened there.”
Before Judith could pose another question, Caroline flew out of the sitting room.
The wind had died down by morning, and the rain had almost stopped. When Judith woke up a few minutes after nine, she could see patches of blue sky to the west. She could also see Renie, still buried under the covers. Since her cousin rarely became fully alert before ten, Judith decided to perform her own morning ablutions first. Thus, when she emerged from the bathroom, she was surprised to see Renie sitting up in bed with her feet dangling above the floor.
“Duty calls,” Renie mumbled. “We have to check on Mrs. B.”
“I can do that while you dress,” Judith offered.
“Fine.” Staggering to her feet, Renie made her uncertain way into the bathroom.
Leota Burgess was breakfasting in bed. A gilt-edged tray laden with several covered dishes and a silver coffee pot rested on her lap. Nurse Fritz was nowhere in sight.
“I sent her off to get her own breakfast,” Mrs. Burgess said in answer to Judith’s query.
“I don’t care for other people eating in my boudoir.”
“Should I leave?” Judith offered, rising from the chair in which she’d just sat down.
“No, certainly not,” Mrs. Burgess replied with a faint smile. “Just don’t join me in my meal. Where’s Serena?”
Judith explained that her cousin would be along soon. “I gather Nurse Fritz is something of a fixture at Creepers.”
“She has been,” Mrs. Burgess said with a glint in her eye. “She cared for my late husband during his final illness. Then she was with us when I had my gall bladder attack. I haven’t seen her since. We asked for her when I sprained my ankle, but Fritz told Dr. Moss she was unavailable. I’m surprised that she showed up now.”
“Well.” Judith was at a momentary loss for words. “She must have a busy schedule.”
“I’m sure she does.” Mrs. Burgess spooned up some oatmeal.
“I really must ask you something,” Judith began in an earnest voice. “I mentioned it earlier, but the name Suzette keeps popping up. Last night Caroline refused to stay with Kenneth in the tower because—”
Mrs. Burgess dropped her spoon. “Caroline? Is Caroline here?”
Judith had forgotten that Mrs. Burgess might not have been informed of her granddaughter’s arrival. “Yes, last night. Oh, dear—I’m sorry. I thought Nurse Fritz would’ve told you.”
“Indeed not,” Mrs. Burgess retorted. “Where is Carrie?”
Judith gestured in the direction of the next room. “Between our suite and yours.” She went on to explain about finding Caroline in the pool house.
Mrs. Burgess sighed. “Such a foolish girl. Carrie tends to show up at all hours. She has no concept of time. Or much else, for that matter. Would you see if she’s awake? I’d like to speak with her.”
Temporarily diverted from the matter of Suzette, Judith could only smile and obey. Caroline’s door was locked, however, and there was no response to repeated knocking. If, Judith reasoned, the intervening suite was set up in the same way as her own room and Mrs. Burgess’s, Caroline probably couldn’t hear anyone at the door if she was still asleep or in the shower.
Back in the corridor, Judith saw Renie coming her way. “I was trying to rouse Caroline,” Judith explained. “Mrs. Burgess didn’t know she was here. Hey, you left your eye patch off again.”
Renie gave her cousin a quirky little smile. “It’s better, if you don’t mind the fact that my eyes don’t match.”
“You’re right. The left one’s still drooping. You look sort of stoned.”
“I feel sort of stoned,” Renie replied. “That was one short night’s sleep.” She kept going down the hall.
“I thought you wanted to see Leota,” Judith called after her.
Renie didn’t turn around. “I do. In time. Right now, I’m going outside to smoke.”
Shaking her head, Judith returned to the master suite. Mrs. Burgess was leafing through a copy of Forbes while Edna collected the breakfast tray.
“Leave the coffee pot and my cup,” Mrs. Burgess said without looking up.
Edna gave a single nod. Judith noted that the maid’s eyes were red-rimmed and her hands shook.
“Let me help you,” Judith offered, catching a china cream pitcher just as it was about to fall off the tray. “I’ll take these things to the elevator.”
“Oh, no, please, I can manage,” Edna protested.
But Judith was already behind the Chinese screen. “That’s okay,” she said with a smile. “Maybe I can grab a piece of toast while I’m in the kitchen.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. Breakfast is laid out in the dining room, though. Perhaps you’d like to sit down and eat,” Edna said as the elevator doors opened.
“I’ll wait for my cousin,” Judith said as the small car creaked and groaned on its descent. “Are the police still here?”
Edna turned her familiar shade of pink. “I hope not! Imagine! Police at Creepers! And people of color, at that. Dear me.”
“But Beverly’s husband is Japanese, and Dr. Stevens is African-American,” Judith pointed out as the elevator came to rest.
“That’s different,” Edna said. “Mr. Ohashi is seldom at Creepers, and Dr. Stevens is…only part Negro. I try to think of him as white. A dark white, of course.”
Following Edna into the kitchen, Judith placed the tray on the counter and greeted Ada Dietz. The cook looked surprised, and none too pleased.
“We don’t need extra help,” she declared, giving the maid a sharp glance. “Despite the commotion, we’re doing just fine. Aren’t we, Edna?”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” Edna replied, her small hands fluttering over the front of her uniform. “We’re fine as can be.”
As her stomach growled, Judith noted the gleaming four-slice toaster, but decided against making any unwelcome requests. “What a well-appointed kitchen,” she said in her most ingratiating manner. Gazing around the big high-ceilinged room with its work island in the center, she took in the latest appliances, including a commercial-sized grill next to an old-fashioned green and cream-colored range. It was, she thought, along with the matching counter tiles, the only holdover from another era. “I run a B&B, and I don’t have a quarter of this space.”
“It’s adequate,” Ada responded through tight lips.
Edna nodded enthusiastically. “My sister has everything she needs. Why, in the old days, when everyone was living here, we—”
“Edna!” Ada waved a wooden spoon at the maid. “How many times do I have to tell you not to be indiscreet?”
Edna hung her head. “I’m sorry, Ada. It’s just that those were such—”
“Edna…” There was a stern warning in Ada’s voice.
“I didn’t realize you were sisters,” Judith broke in, still smiling. “How nice for the two of you to work together for so long.”
Ada turned her back and faced the stove; Edna seemed to shrivel up and began removing the dirty dishes from the gilt-edged tray; Judith stopped smiling and headed back for the elevator. If she got stuck between floors now, at least someone would know where she was. They might not care, but they would know.
Renie was sitting with Mrs. Burgess when Judith returned to the master suite. She jumped in her chair when she saw Judith emerge from behind the Chinese screen.
“What is this?” Renie said, wide-eyed. “A secret passage?”
Judith explained about the back stairs and the elevator while Mrs. Burgess’s shrewd gaze was fixed on her face. “I wondered about that when you left a few minutes ago,” the old lady said. “You seem to have gotten well-acquainted with the house.”
“It was a necessity last night,” Judith said, on the defensive. “As I just explained, I wanted to see what was going on in the pool house. That’s how I found Caroline.”
Mrs. Burgess sipped coffee from her china cup. “Yes, of course. I’m having Jeepers drain the pool. He’s not full-time staff, but he is one of our gardeners. We could have had another tragedy last night. I’m terribly sorry about Caroline’s reaction. How’s your head?”
Judith fingered the small swelling. “It’s better, though I still have a headache.”
“Don’t we all?” Mrs. Burgess sighed. “Please, go eat your breakfasts. Fritz will be back any minute. I’ll see if she can find out if Caroline’s awake.”
“Jeepers Creepers?” Renie said as they went out into the hall.
“It’s no worse than that relative of your dad’s, Mabel Frable,” Judith retorted. “Anyway, Jeepers Creepers isn’t his real name.”
“I hope not,” Renie said as they descended the main staircase and saw the crime scene tape still in place. “By the way, I just got better acquainted with the house myself. I decided to see if I could find a way to smoke out on the second-floor balcony. Not only did I do that, I went into the other tower, to the south. There’s a sewing room on the second floor and part of a ballroom on the first. The round part looks as if it’s where the orchestra would play.”
“I wonder
when they last held a ball here?” Judith mused as they circumvented the ominous black and yellow tape.
Renie shrugged. “Who knows? But from a design stand-point, I find the house intriguing. It gives me ideas.”
“It gives me ideas, too,” Judith said, “but not about art. I have to tell you about Caroline coming to our rooms last night.” She dragged her feet through the entry hall and down the corridor to the dining room as she related Caroline’s story about her father’s fatal accident and her own fears of the tower bedroom.
Before Renie could respond, they reached the dining room, where they found Peggy Hillman and a tall, attractive man in his fifties, both drinking Bloody Marys. Judith guessed that the man was Peggy’s third husband, Russell, the golf pro.
She was right. Peggy introduced them and then sat back down at the long table and waited for the cousins to fill their plates. When they were seated, Peggy placed both hands flat on the linen cloth, as if she were about to make a speech.
“I really appreciate having you two come here,” she said, her husky voice sounding tense. “We all do, don’t we, Russ?”
Russ nodded affably.
“But now that we’ve actually had a murder—even if it wasn’t Maman, thank God—it’s best that you leave. Since Dr. Moss was killed in this house, it’s become a family matter.” Peggy paused and grimaced. “Do you think you can be out of here within the hour?”
NINE
THE COUSINS DIDN’T argue. They merely exchanged surreptitious glances and continued eating. Given their apparent acquiescence, Peggy reverted to her more outgoing self.
“Tell them about the time Arnie and Jack played Sunset Cliffs, Russ. That’s one of my favorite anecdotes.”
Dutifully, Russ Hillman went into a well-rehearsed if entertaining story of Palmer and Nicklaus’s adventures on the local links. Russ struck Judith as a charming man who had a spent a lifetime living off the scraps of the elite. Indeed, he reminded her of a big, friendly dog trying to please his mistress. Judith half-expected to see him wag his tail.
At Peggy’s urging, Russ had just launched into a tale about Greg Norman and Tiger Woods when Wayne and Dorothy Burgess arrived. Wayne and Peggy locked gazes; the sister nodded once at her brother.