Creeps Suzette

by Mary Daheim

  “Of course not,” Judith retorted. “I explained all this to you before I left Monday. We’re helping out. One of Renie’s friends has a problem.”

  “Any friend of Serena’s is a problem,” Gertrude snapped. “That girl has no sense. What does she do with all her time? Draw stupid little pictures, right? Cartoons, I bet, like the Katzenjammer Kids and Maggie and Jiggs.”

  “Not exactly,” Judith said, running an agitated hand through her wet hair. “Look, I just wanted to see if you’re okay. We might be home today or at the latest, tomorrow.”

  “Okay? Are you kidding?” Gertrude huffed. “Three of my ten toes fell off. My chest feels like an elephant sat on it. I’m so stiff from arthritis that the St. Vincent de Paul thought I was a hat rack.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Judith sighed. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have,” Gertrude said smugly. “Arlene knows how to treat me. She made little pigs.”

  “That’s nice,” Judith said. “Arlene’s a terrific cook.”

  “Better than some,” Gertrude said in her raspy voice. “I gotta go, kiddo. The exterminator’s here.”

  “What exterminator?” Judith asked, feeling an onset of panic.

  “His name’s Marbles,” Gertrude replied. “He’s here to get the possums. So long, Toots.”

  Gertrude hung up.

  Renie was staggering out of the bathroom when Judith returned to the bedroom. “Whazzup?” she mumbled.

  “Have you ever had possums in your yard?” Judith asked.

  “Sure.” Renie focused her eyes. “Twice. Found one on the back porch a year ago. Ugly suckers.” She blinked and made an effort to become alert. “I told you about it at the time.”

  While the cousins dressed, Judith recounted the phone calls she’d just made. “I wonder where Joe went,” she said, going over to the speaking tube.

  “Out for breakfast, maybe,” Renie said. “Bill does that every so often, especially if he attends weekday Mass. What are you doing?”

  “Husbands and possums aren’t the only things I have to discuss,” Judith said, switching on the tube. “Let’s eat up here, so we don’t have eavesdroppers. What do you want?”

  Renie recited a long list, which, to Judith’s dismay, included lamb kidneys. “Good luck,” said Judith. “This isn’t England.”

  Judith considered waiting to divulge her information until after Renie had her first cup of coffee, but couldn’t contain herself. She disposed of Jack Moody before Kenyon delivered their trays.

  “Kenyon!” Judith exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you left.”

  “Haven’t you heard, ma’am?” the butler replied. “The heavy winds blew away the rain and brought in a thick fog. The airport is closed, at least until this afternoon.”

  Renie, naturally, was bug-eyed. “What was that all about?” she demanded after Kenyon had toddled off.

  “I was just getting to that,” Judith said, and promptly went into the story about Edward and Sarah Kenyon. She paused only when Renie lifted one of the silver lids and uttered a delighted cry at the sight of four lamb kidneys on the plate.

  “But now,” Judith said in conclusion, “it seems the Kenyons are stuck at Creepers, at least for a while. Coz, how can you eat innards?”

  “Easy,” Renie responded. “I already ate them.” She pulled back from the table and patted her stomach. “Yum, yum.”

  “Innards and carrots mashed up with rutabagas,” Judith murmured with disgust. “You have some queer tastes.”

  “What do you mean?” Renie countered. “You eat liver and onions. Liver is—are?—innards. I can’t stand liver. Giblets are good, though.”

  “Giblets are good,” Judith agreed. “Giblets in dressing, giblets in gravy, just plain giblets. And speaking of food, hear me out on the pizza issue.”

  “Huh?” Renie looked up from her almost-empty dishes. “Pizza?”

  Judith recited the information Sarah had given her about the pizza box markings. “One letter for each specialty item—got that?” She saw Renie nod. “But there was an ‘M’ on Nurse Fritz’s box and another ‘M’ on the one we saw in Mrs. Burgess’s bedroom. How come? They were two different kind of pizzas.”

  Renie looked blank. “A simple mistake? Or,” she said, gathering steam, “you were looking at one of the boxes upside-down. One of the ‘Ms’ might have been a ‘W.’”

  “Brilliant, coz,” Judith said excitedly. “Your designer’s eye has done it again. So, do we conclude that the boxes got mixed up, and the pizza for Nurse Fritz was the one intended for Mrs. Burgess?”

  “As in an attempt to poison the old girl?” Renie said with a skeptical expression. “We don’t know that the pizza was poisoned. Nurse Kitz ate and drank some other things last night. Besides, wouldn’t it be extremely stupid of Bop to poison his own pizza?”

  “Bop’s a risk taker, remember?”

  “But,” Renie put in, “according to Jack Moody, Bop has no killer instinct.”

  Judith grew solemn. “I know. That bothers me. Of course Moody was referring to playing cards, but poker is often a metaphor for life. All the attempts—if they were real attempts—on Leota’s life have failed. Is that by accident or by design?”

  “In a really weird, oddball kind of way, you’re making sense,” Renie declared. “Will you mention this to Edwina and Danny?”

  “Sure,” Judith said, finishing her coffee and standing up. “Let’s find out what’s happened while we slept.”

  “What about Leota?” Renie asked. “Shouldn’t we check on her?”

  Judith snapped her fingers. “You’re right. I’m being derelict in my duty. Let’s go.”

  Mrs. Burgess had long since finished breakfast and was sitting up in bed reading a romance novel. Caroline was nowhere to be seen, though the remnants of a meal for two remained on a large tray by the Chinese screen. Apparently, Leota’s rule against others eating with her in the boudoir didn’t apply to kin.

  “Nurse Fritz is improving,” Mrs. Burgess announced. “Food poisoning can be dangerous, though.”

  “Do you know what they think caused it?” Judith asked.

  “If so, I haven’t heard,” the old lady replied. “I do hope Fritz can come back on duty soon.”

  Renie had sat down in a chair next to the bed. “You feel okay, though? I mean, it wasn’t the pizza?”

  “Of course not!” Mrs. Burgess huffed. “Bop wouldn’t use substandard ingredients. He and I both ate all of ours, and as far as I know he’s fine. So am I. Except for my ankle. It still pains me.”

  “Bop certainly has a flair for naming his pizzas,” Judith remarked. “What was yours called?”

  “Wild something-or-other,” Mrs. Burgess answered. “The names are clever indeed. I believe I haven’t given Bop full credit for his business acumen. But all things considered, that’s understandable.” She frowned and looked away.

  Judith started to say something about the Kenyons’ imminent departure, but thought better of it. Perhaps Mrs. Burgess didn’t yet know.

  “You’re staying on for the funeral tomorrow, I trust?” Mrs. Burgess’s gaze shifted away from the window where the outer world was shrouded in heavy fog. “I’m sure Beverly would want you to stand in for her.”

  “Yes,” Renie replied, though there was a reluctant note in her voice. “We’ll be there. To be honest, I’m not sure the police want us to leave just yet.”

  “Twaddle,” said the old lady. “You’re scarcely criminals, and they know it.” She paused as Edna entered the room, announcing Dr. Stevens.

  “Good morning,” he said in greeting as Edna bustled around the room and collected the big tray. She could barely balance it as she passed behind the Chinese screen to the backstairs area.

  “Well?” Mrs. Burgess said to the doctor. “How long am I to be incapacitated?”

  “Through the weekend, at least,” Dr. Stevens replied with an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you to the funeral in a very comf
ortable wheelchair.”

  Mrs. Burgess made an impatient gesture with her right hand. “I’ll hate that. It shows weakness. Don’t you think I could put my weight on it just long enough to get in and out of the chapel?”

  The cousins decided to withdraw. Murmuring excuses, they left the master suite.

  “Where do we find another crowbar?” Judith asked when they reached the hall.

  “Huh? Oh—you mean to get into the tower room?” Renie considered. “Are you sure you want to go up there again?”

  “Yes,” Judith declared. “I don’t know who’s trying to warn us off, but we can’t give up.”

  “Your call,” Renie said without enthusiasm.

  “Sarah Kenyon referred to Suzette as a ghost haunting the place,” Judith said. “That’s nonsense, of course. I don’t think Sarah meant it seriously.”

  Renie looked askance. “I suppose not.”

  “You don’t believe in ghosts,” Judith said, surprised at her cousin’s reaction.

  “No,” Renie said after a pause. “Not really. But if ever a house had them, it’d be Creepers.”

  “True,” Judith admitted. “Let’s forget about ghosts and get some tools.”

  “Kenyon will know where they are,” Renie said. “Let’s ask him.”

  The butler was in the dining room, polishing silver.

  “You don’t seem to be surrendering your duties even though you’re leaving,” Judith remarked with a smile.

  “As it turns out,” Kenyon said, squinting at a silver cream pitcher with his half-blind eyes, “we won’t be leaving now until Friday. I felt quite strongly about staying on until after Dr. Moss’s services. Naturally, my daughter is disappointed. She had her heart set on leaving this morning.”

  Renie inquired about tools. Keeping his expression impassive, the butler suggested they try the shed nearest the house.

  “Mr. Jeepers is doing some repair work necessitated by the storm,” Kenyon said. “I believe you’ll find him nearby.”

  Mr. Jeepers’s real name was Arnie Norberg. “Bop nicknamed me when he was a kid,” Arnie explained. “It stuck. I suppose anybody who was called Bop felt everybody else should have a nickname, too.”

  In the well-organized toolshed, Arnie supplied the cousins with another crowbar, a hammer, a chisel, and an axe. He couldn’t resist asking to what purpose the tools would be put.

  Judith opted for candor, explaining that the top floor of the north tower was sealed. They were curious. Arnie merely smiled.

  “Friends of Miss Bev’s, huh?” he remarked. “She’s a peach. I’ve been working at Creepers off and on since she was in college.”

  “But not full-time?” Judith said.

  Arnie shook his clean-shaven head. “No thanks. I started out doing odd jobs for the Van Burens, then some of the other families asked me to work for them. I like it better if I’m not tied down to just one household. Frankly, these people give me the creeps. Excuse the expression.”

  “‘These people’?” Judith quoted. “You mean the Burgesses?”

  “All of them.” Arnie waved a hand, taking in the expanse of Sunset Cliffs. “They aren’t like other people. They aren’t real.”

  Judith didn’t disagree. The cousins cautiously made their way through the thick fog to the rear of the house. At one point, Renie collided with the wishing well.

  “Look out, coz,” Judith said, unable to help because her hands were full. “Is your eye worse this morning?”

  “No,” Renie replied, rubbing her knee. “It’s better. It’s just the fog and my depth perception. I guess I should throw a coin in this thing and wish for improved vision.”

  Judith paused to smile at what she could see of the charming little stone well with its wooden bucket and lacy wrought-iron arch. “You wouldn’t get your wish,” she said. “The well’s been sealed off, probably to keep kids from jumping into it.”

  The cousins were lucky in one respect, however. They didn’t encounter anyone who might express curiosity about the clutch of tools they carried. The passageways were empty as they walked to the door that led to the north tower.

  “Maybe we should have asked Arnie to help us,” Judith said as they ascended the winding staircase.

  “Let’s see how we manage on our own,” Renie replied, then stopped. “What’s that noise?”

  It sounded like a low, rolling moan. Climbing the last three steps, they saw that the door to Kenneth’s room was open. Kenneth was lying on the bed; the moans were coming from him.

  “Kenneth!” Judith cried, hurrying to the young man. “Are you ill?”

  He kept moaning. Judith grabbed his arm and gave it a sharp shake. “Say something, please. What’s wrong?”

  “Everything,” Kenneth wailed, his eyes closed and his expression wretched. “I hate my family. I hate everyone. I hate myself.”

  A half-empty glass of juice sat on the nightstand. Judith picked it up. “Drink this, and tell us why you’re so upset.”

  Kenneth waved the glass away, but struggled to sit up. “I love Creepers,” he declared. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “You tell us,” Renie said, leaning against the fireplace mantel.

  “No.” Kenneth shook his head several times. “I feel sick.”

  “Kenneth,” Judith said quietly, “did you go into the safe the night before last?”

  Kenneth’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

  “Logic,” Judith replied. “You came here earlier in the evening, around seven while your grandmother was watching TV. You knew she was occupied, and you had another purpose. Ada Dietz said you ate some strawberry pie. Then I suspect you came into the library where you opened the safe, and left not only a smudge of strawberry, but your fingerprints. Whatever you found in the safe didn’t alarm you too much, because the discussion you had later that evening with your grandmother was fairly tame. Then yesterday the two of you quarreled violently. Supposedly, you fought over the raccoon. But I don’t think that was the main issue.”

  Kenneth’s narrow shoulders sagged. “I’d looked for her will in the safe. She’d been threatening to change it. She hadn’t.” He winced as he tried to sit up straighter on the bed. “Grandmaman promised I’d inherit Creepers when she died because I was the only one in the family who loved the house. Monday night, I talked to her about my plans for an animal sanctuary here. She just laughed, as she’s done before. I didn’t tell her I’d already looked at the will to make sure she hadn’t changed it.” Kenneth flushed and ducked his head. “I mean, it’s not really a secret, is it? We’re all family.”

  “I’m not sure that counts,” Judith said. Especially, she thought, with this crew.

  “Then, when I brought Roscoe up to visit her yesterday,” Kenneth continued, “she got very angry. She said she’d already talked to Gaylord Gibbons about adding a codicil or something to the will which would state that if I brought any animals into Creepers after she died, I’d have to forfeit the house. Isn’t that outrageous?”

  “No,” Renie said calmly. “Sunset Cliffs isn’t a zoo. Keeping animals around here could be dangerous.” She paused, glancing around the room. “Where is Roscoe?”

  “I set him free,” Kenneth replied, on the defensive. “His paw seemed all right this morning.”

  Judith sat down in a railback chair. “I understand why you’re upset. But that’s no reason to hate your family.”

  “Yes, it is,” Kenneth asserted. “They all want money when Grandmaman dies. All I want is the house. I still have most of my money from the trust that my grandfather left me. I haven’t thrown it away like the rest of them.”

  “Do you mean spent—or squandered?” Renie put in.

  “Both.” Kenneth was looking petulant. “Bop used his to set up his pizza parlor. Carrie just frittered hers away, mainly on her husband, Brett. The dumb thing was that he didn’t want expensive cars and designer clothes. Brett just wants to write his books. He should never have married my sister. I think he felt sorry for her.�
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  “But Bop has been very successful,” Judith pointed out.

  “Oh?” Kenneth looked askance. “Then why is he always begging Grandmaman for loans?”

  The cousins exchanged quick glances. Behind Kenneth’s back, Renie made card-dealing gestures with her hands. Judith gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “What about your parents and the Wayne Burgesses?” Judith said. “Have they used up all their money, too?”

  “I don’t know about Uncle Wayne,” Kenneth replied. “Somebody said the family business has gone sour. That’s his problem. Nobody ever asked Bop or me to work for Evergreen. I wouldn’t have anyway—all they do is chop down trees and ruin the animal habitat.”

  “Why weren’t either of you asked?” Judith inquired. “Maxwell, Walter, Wayne—three generations, and then…” She threw up her hands.

  “I’ll tell you why,” Peggy Hillman said from the doorway. “Kenny, what’s wrong? You look God-awful.”

  “I don’t feel so good, Mom,” Kenneth replied as his mother entered the tower room and put a hand to her son’s forehead. “Do I have a temperature?”

  “I don’t think so,” Peggy said. “You’re just upset. Is it about that blasted raccoon?”

  “In a way,” Kenneth replied, peevish.

  “I’ll go get Dr. Stevens just to make sure,” Peggy replied. “He’s still with your grandmother.” She stopped, then looked at the cousins. “You two have certainly managed to invade our lives in record time. Did Bev send you to watch Maman or to find out what she’s been missing while she and Tom are rooting around in some pharaoh’s tomb?”

  Judith tried to detect if there was any humor behind Peggy’s words. But the other woman seemed serious. Indeed, she looked as haggard as her son. The tinted blond hair seemed to have lost its luster, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

  Judith evaded the question. “How long did you have to stay at the hospital with Nurse Fritz last night?”

  Peggy shrugged. “A couple of hours, maybe more. I wanted to make sure she’d pull through. She will, but it was a near thing.”