by Mary Daheim
“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” Dorothy replied. “At least that was my motto until recently. Time’s running out, if I want a future.” She put down her fork and placed her napkin on the table. “Are we done here?”
Judith was somewhat startled by Dorothy’s abruptness. “Well…yes. Can’t we treat you?”
Dorothy shook her head. “We don’t have bills as such at the club. Everything goes on our monthly tab. This isn’t Lenny’s out on the highway. Besides,” she added dryly, “I ought to pay. It’s my penalty for speaking indiscreetly just now. Ordinarily, I don’t discuss private matters with virtual strangers. I suppose it’s Dr. Moss’s death and the murder investigation. The last few days have been rather rugged.”
“Plus,” Judith said, “you have your own problems.”
“So I do,” Dorothy said as she pushed her chair away from the table. “Let’s see if I—and the rest of the family—can get out of this alive.”
The cousins left the clubhouse alone. Renie wondered if Dorothy was staying on to see Russ Hillman. Judith wondered if the detectives had already interviewed him about the golf marker.
“Do you think Dorothy’s innocent?” Renie asked as they drove slowly along the twisting roads that were now free of fog.
“Of murdering Dr. Moss? Probably,” Judith said in a thoughtful tone. “Her attitude seemed somewhat objective, if unhelpful. She was a bit evasive, though. I wonder if she’s shielding someone.”
“Like Russ?”
“Russ, Bop, even Wayne,” Judith said. “I also think there may have been a reason behind having lunch with us.”
“Such as?”
“To see if we had a favorite suspect. Dorothy Burgess may look down at us as socially inferior, but she doesn’t think we’re complete morons,” Judith said as they passed Evergreen and headed on to Creepers. “She may also think we’ve heard something from the police.”
Renie look unconvinced. “Dorothy didn’t ask us a single question about what we thought.”
“She wouldn’t. That’s not her style. She’d expect it come out in the course of the conversation.”
“It didn’t,” Renie asserted. “So what use was our luncheon date to any of us?”
“I’m not sure,” Judith said, still in a thoughtful mood. “But something she mentioned reinforced an idea I’ve had all along.”
“What?”
“About events, and how the Burgesses react to them.” Judith slowed down as they reached the circular drive. “What do these people talk about in terms of life passages? Not weddings and babies or even ordinary deaths. There are certain topics—let’s call them leitmotifs as you opera fans would say—that keep recurring. Suzette. Leota’s gall bladder attack. Charles Ward’s fatal accident. Dr. Moss’s murder.”
“So what are you saying?” Renie asked.
“Maybe I’m trying too hard because I’m stumped,” Judith admitted, pulling the Subaru to a stop in front of the multiple-car garage, “but I wonder if there isn’t a link between all those things.”
“How can there be?” Renie inquired. “No one is still around from the days of Suzette’s demise, not even Dr. Moss.”
“That’s my point,” Judith said. “He was around then. And so were two other people who are still with us.”
“Who?” Renie asked, looking puzzled.
“Peggy and Wayne.”
“You’re nuts. They were babies.”
“Not quite,” Judith countered. “Peggy was three and Wayne was going on two.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Renie scoffed. “How could they remember anything?”
“You do.” Judith gave Renie a smug look. “Weren’t you telling me the other day how excited you were when you got the electric train from Uncle Corky? You were two, but you remembered, because it was a big event in your life.”
Renie frowned. “You’re right. I remember quite a bit, really, from my extreme youth. But I don’t think everybody does.”
“Maybe not, but the tension, the horror surrounding Suzette’s tragedy would touch even a small child. Oh, there’d be no talk in front of the children, at least not by Margaret and Walter Burgess. But you never know about servants. And having Dad collapse with a nervous breakdown and Mom hang herself would definitely make an impression.”
“That’s so,” Renie finally agreed. “It’d be traumatic. But will either of them talk about it? Or would they repress those memories?”
“You couldn’t blame them if they did,” Judith said. “I wonder what happened to those servants. I’m almost willing to bet that there was more than one wholesale discharge of staff. I’ll bet whoever worked at Creepers at the time of the tragedy was let go, if not by Walter Burgess, then by Leota, when she married him a year or so later.”
“She might tell us,” Renie mused.
“I doubt it,” Judith responded, then gazed at Renie. “Are you going to go get the garage opener or shall we spend the afternoon in the car?”
After the Subaru had been returned to its place, the cousins went into the house through the rear entrance. Edna was just coming out of the kitchen. She gave a start when she saw Judith and Renie appear in the hallway.
“How fortunate!” the little maid exclaimed. “The mistress has been asking for you. Do you mind?”
“Of course not, Edna,” Judith replied, smiling kindly. “Tell me something, if you would. When you and Ada came to Creepers, had the departing staff been here a long time?”
“Oh, dear!” The query seemed to dismay Edna. “Let me think—yes, at least through the war. Except for Brewster—the nanny—they were mostly refugees. When the war ended, they wanted to go home.”
Judith frowned at Edna. “Refugees?”
The maid nodded, making her white cap slip sideways. “From Europe. I believe they were mostly from the same family. Austrians, I think. They taught the children to waltz.”
“Interesting,” Judith said, still smiling. “Thank you, Edna.”
“Certainly.” Edna beamed at the cousins. “Would you like to take the elevator? It’s much closer than the main stairs. It saves me so many steps.”
With a wave for Ada, who was taking out the garbage, Judith and Renie climbed into the small car. “How come Bev never mentioned this Austrian family?” Judith queried.
“Because I didn’t ask her about the Von Trapp family servants,” Renie said. “We only talked about Suzette and Brewster. And don’t tell me—Walter Burgess canned all the servants who were here when Suzette and Margaret met their fateful ends. The departing crew were probably bought off. Then Walter brought in these refugees who may or may not have understood English. End of in-house gossip.”
The elevator groaned to a halt. “That’s about it,” Judith agreed. “It was shrewd. And when they went back to Austria after the war, they took whatever bits and pieces of information they might have learned with them.”
Judith rapped on the Chinese screen and called Mrs. Burgess’s name.
“Why,” the old lady demanded as the cousins appeared from behind the screen, “are you coming from that direction?”
“Our feet hurt,” Renie answered, dropping into a chair by the bed. “How are you this afternoon?”
“Improving,” Mrs. Burgess replied, though she looked dispirited. “I wanted to let you know that after the funeral tomorrow, you’re perfectly free to leave. I’ve already encroached far too much on your time.”
Grimacing, Renie pulled the chair closer to the bed. “Mrs. Burgess, the danger to you may not be over. I hate to mention this, but has it occurred to you that the poison in Nurse”—Renie grimaced some more as she forced herself to pronounce the name properly—“Fritz’s tea may have been meant for you?”
“The detectives alluded to that possibility this morning,” Mrs. Burgess said. “It was very naughty of you not to tell me straightaway that Fritz had been poisoned.”
“We weren’t sure,” Renie responded. “Besides, we didn’t want to upset you.”
> Mrs. Burgess waved a hand. “Never mind. If I may say so without being offensive, it’s become clear that you can’t stop the attempts on my life, let alone discover who is making them. It’s not your fault. The police aren’t doing much better. Consequently, I’ve hired a private detective. I probably should have done so in the beginning, but I didn’t want an outsider at Creepers. Now, after Dr. Moss’s murder, there have been all sorts of intrusions. One more will scarcely matter, especially if he’s competent. He’ll arrive this afternoon and attend the funeral tomorrow. I spoke to him only a few minutes ago, and he wants to see how the mourners react at the service.”
“That’s smart of him,” Judith put in. “My husband always did that when he was working a murder investigation. But I have to say that we feel terrible about being such failures.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Burgess retorted. “You’re not professionals.”
“Bev’s going to be disappointed in us,” Renie remarked. “I should be hearing from her some time today.”
“No, you won’t,” Mrs. Burgess said. “She called earlier, apparently while you were unavailable. I spoke with her and explained everything. She’s only upset because she put you to so much trouble. Now run along and enjoy the sunshine. It’s gotten to be a nice day now that the fog’s lifted.”
“We flunked,” Judith said glumly as they headed back downstairs. “I feel like a big fat zero.”
“So do I,” Renie said. “What’s the point of staying for the funeral? We might as well go home now before Bill and the kids wind up eating pet food for dinner.”
“You may be right,” Judith said as they reached the main floor. “Hey!” she cried, grabbing Renie’s sleeve. “Leota didn’t mention the tower room. Do you suppose they don’t know what we did?”
Renie stared at Judith. “Maybe not. Nobody goes up there, not even to the third floor, let alone the fourth.”
“But someone has,” Judith said, pacing around the expanse in front of the central staircase. “Again, who put that doll and the phony blood in the dollhouse? When? Why?” She motioned to Renie. “Let’s have another look.”
“Coz…”
But Judith was already headed for the tower.
“What do you expect to find that you didn’t see before?” Renie asked in a cross voice as she dutifully trudged along behind Judith.
“I don’t know,” Judith said. “I wonder if Edwina’s checked out the tower yet.”
To Renie’s surprise, Judith stopped on the second floor. The door was ajar. Peeking inside, the cousins found no sign of Kenneth. Judith headed straight for the door that led to the old nursery.
The unfortunate doll still remained facedown in the plastic blood. Judith began searching other parts of the room, looking behind shelves of children’s books, moving board games, inspecting every possible hiding place.
“I’d help, but I’m in ignorance,” Renie said in an annoyed tone. “What are you trying to find?”
“I’ve no idea,” Judith admitted, pounding on the walls.
“Great. Maybe I’ll play with the electric train. It brings back fond memories. Oops!” Renie tripped over the rocking horse, falling hard on one knee. “Damn! I tore my good slacks. Look, this stupid floor is rotting.”
“It is over a hundred years old,” Judith noted, then studied the board that had broken in two. “What’s that, underneath?”
“Don’t ask me,” Renie snapped. “I’m blind, remember? Damn, damn, damn. I paid almost two hundred bucks for these slacks.”
Judith knelt down, carefully pulling at the pieces of wood. To her surprise, they moved easily. “Bottles,” she said in amazement. “Empty liquor bottles. What do you think, coz?”
“I think I wish they were full,” Renie retorted. “I could use a drink.”
“Who drank up here and stashed the evidence?” Judith said, excitement rising as she wrestled to free some of the bottles. “Look, some of these are labels that haven’t been sold since I was working at the Meat & Mingle. Here’s one that first came out around ten years ago. We can pinpoint the time frame from these,” she went on, holding two of the bottles aloft. “They’re all Scotch. Who does that point to?”
“You?” Renie said in a vexed voice.
Judith shot Renie a scornful look. “Mock me, if you will, but I think I finally see the light.”
“Okay,” Renie said ambiguously. “Let’s get out of here.”
Judith agreed. She was on her feet when they heard the shrill, piercing voice.
“Spare me! Spare me!”
The cousins exchanged swift, startled glances. “It’s not in here,” Judith said. “It’s coming from down the stairwell.”
They heard nothing until they reached the stairs. “Save me! Help me!” the strange voice cried.
“It’s above us,” Renie said, craning her neck to peer into the deep recesses of the stairwell.
But it was a noise from below that suddenly caught their attention. The cousins whirled around and looked down. Kenneth was standing in the curve of the tower wall.
“Was that you calling out?” Judith demanded.
Kenneth looked at Judith and Renie with wide, innocent eyes. “No. Of course not.”
“Didn’t you hear it?” Renie asked, taking a downward step.
“Oh, yes,” Kenneth replied, seemingly undisturbed.
“What the hell is it?” Renie shouted.
Kenneth retreated on the stairs. “It’s Suzette,” he said, and disappeared around the corner.
TWENTY
“SUZETTE?” JUDITH ECHOED, racing after Renie who was chasing Kenneth. “What are you talking about?”
The cousins trapped him outside his room. “Suzette’s been dead for sixty years,” Renie declared. “There are no such things as ghosts.” She grabbed Kenneth by the front of his shirt. “Out with it, tell us what’s going on or I’ll have to hurt you.”
“She’s not a ghost,” Kenneth said, now looking frightened. “She’s real. She’s in great danger. I want to save her.”
“Over the edge,” Renie said out of the corner of her mouth. “Should we get help?”
Before Judith could respond, a series of squawks and a flurry of wings appeared from out of the stairwell shadows. Judith let out a startled cry and Renie let go of Kenneth. The young man darted out between his would-be captors and ran down to the bottom of the stairs.
“Now you’ve scared Suzette,” Kenneth called out in an accusing voice.
Slowly, Judith and Renie followed him around the winding steps. They saw Kenneth by the door, a brightly colored parrot on his shoulder. “I’ve taught her to defend herself,” he said, looking indignant. “Creepers isn’t safe for my wild friends anymore, so I’m taking her somewhere that is.” With a parting glare for Judith and Renie, Kenneth went through the door and into the passageway, the parrot leaning her head against her protector’s.
“A damned bird,” Renie muttered. “How could we be so dumb?”
“It was feathers I felt against my face,” Judith said in exasperation. “Shoot.”
“No wonder Leota doesn’t want Kenneth bringing his menagerie to Creepers,” Renie said, trudging down the rest of the stairs.
“I’ll bet he sneaked that parrot in Monday night when he came the first time via the back door,” Judith said. “Remember how the windows in his room were open when we first peeked in there? Suzette, as he calls her, must have been flying in and out like Superman.”
“Too bad Roscoe didn’t eat the damned thing,” Renie said as they entered the parlor.
“Roscoe was in a cage,” Judith reminded Renie, “which is where Suzette should have been, too.” She sank into one of the chinoiserie chairs. “Want to hear my theory before I forget what it is?”
Naturally, Renie was all ears. “It’s not bad,” she said when Judith had finished. “But you—and maybe the detectives—haven’t got a shred of evidence.”
“The police might,” Judith said. “They just aren’t telling us.
Or maybe they haven’t put it all together.”
“Are you going to share your theory with Edwina and Danny?” Renie asked.
Judith frowned. “I’m not sure. I don’t want them to laugh at me.”
“Maybe you should, though,” Renie said. “Aren’t we leaving?”
Judith glanced at her watch. It was going on three o’clock. “I suppose we should. Leota didn’t sound as if she wanted us hanging around anymore. But,” Judith added, her eyes narrowing, “you can see why she feels that way.”
“Only if you’re a threat to the family’s reputation,” Renie said.
Judith got up from the chinoiserie chair and began to pace, a habit that seemed to be growing since her arrival at Creepers. “I’d like to talk to at least a couple of people before we go. Maybe we can stall.” She stopped to stare at the telephone. “I should call Joe. Maybe he’s back from wherever he went by now.”
Once again, Arlene answered the phone. “Joe just left again,” she said, laughter bubbling up in her voice. “Oh, Judith, your mother is such a sketch. We brought her into the house—really, I think it’s so unfair that she can’t live in what really is her home—and we’re playing charades. I’m on her team, and Vivian and Carl are on the other.”
“Vivian?” The name thudded out of Judith’s mouth. “She’s back from Florida?”
“Yes, she got in yesterday, with such a gorgeous tan that I can hardly stand it,” Arlene went on, “and you know how fond she is of your mother, but of course who wouldn’t be unless they had a heart of flint.”
Judith ignored the implied barb. Perhaps the return of Joe’s first wife explained his absences from Hillside Manor. Despite everything, including eight happy years of marriage, Judith could still feel pangs of jealousy. Vivian Flynn was much older, but she still possessed a certain hard-edged glamour that Judith envied.
Still, it was Arlene’s needling about Gertrude’s self-imposed exile that rankled most. “You know perfectly well that Mother refused to—”
“You’ll never guess,” Arlene interrupted, “what your mother did to win the last round. Cambridge, Massachusetts! She got to take out her teeth twice. It was hilarious!”