by Gloria Dank
Gretchen suddenly felt that she was addressing a wayward student. There was something about the way George was sitting there, talking to her so reasonably … her fear fell away. She gathered up her handbag and said severely, “You’ve been a very bad boy, George. You know that.”
“Yes, Gretchen. I know.”
“You’ve killed three people.”
“I know. I know.” George bent his head.
“I came here tonight to see if Jessie was right,” said Gretchen thoughtfully. “She hinted to me that it might have been you … once she realized that Bella hadn’t been at home that evening, then your own alibi got you into trouble, George. Everybody else was here in Ridgewood that evening, except for you. Except for you.”
“I know.”
Gretchen’s mouth thinned into a stern uncompromising line. “I don’t have any proof, of course. Nothing that would stand up in court. Nothing that would convince the police. But there’s one thing I’m going to do, for Albert’s sake, and that is to make sure that Susan knows the whole story. Jessie would have wanted that. It’s not right that you should marry into the family. You understand that, don’t you?”
George’s head came up. “Yes,” he said woodenly.
“Good-bye, George,” said Gretchen. She got to her feet.
George stood up also. “Good-bye,” he said.
As she turned to go, George’s hand rose swiftly, and a thin metal string arched through the air. It fell around Gretchen’s throat, and then George was next to her, holding it and twisting, twisting it tighter and tighter …
Gretchen tried to scream and couldn’t. She clawed at her neck, at the metal thread that was biting into her skin … everything was going blue … she reached out blindly, groping through the air, and scratched George’s face as viciously as she could.
George reeled back with a scream. The front door flew open, and a firm hand clamped down on his arm. All of a sudden the room seemed filled with people. He felt the barrel of a revolver being placed firmly against his temple.
“Now, now, Mr. Drexler,” said Detective Janovy’s voice pleasantly. “Don’t move, please, or I might be tempted to put a bullet through your head in the line of duty. Are you sure you’re all right, Dr. Schneider?”
9
“What tipped you off, Bernard? How did you know that Bella wasn’t murdered at home? What gave you the clue?”
“You did, Snooky.”
“Me? I did?”
“Yes.”
Snooky felt absurdly pleased. “What did I say?”
“You mumbled something, in one of your ceaseless monologues, about how, if she had gone out that night, she would have been the most stylish woman in the restaurant. Don’t you remember?”
“Yes. No. I guess so.”
“The phrase came back to me later,” said Bernard slowly. “If she had gone out that night. It would make sense out of a lot of things. Like the earring, which made no sense at all otherwise. Why would the killer take it? But if Bella had been out that night, then it might have fallen off her ear—in George’s car—and shown up later, by accident. That, and his alibi, pointed straight at George.”
Snooky was thoughtful. “I see. Clever of you, Bernard. How did you figure out what in the world Mrs. MacGregor was hinting about?”
“Occam’s razor,” said Bernard shortly.
“I see,” said Snooky. “Simplicity is all, eh, Bernard?”
“Yes. When choosing among competing theories, choose the simplest one. It was obvious that something about the black mink coat had triggered Mrs. MacGregor’s memory. She said so herself, to Aunt Etta. The simplest explanation would be that it was the coat itself that had been missing. And that tied in so neatly with Bella Whitaker leaving the house that night, that I knew that must be it.”
Snooky looked at him in frank admiration. “That’s so—so cogent of you, Bernard.”
Bernard merely scowled.
Maya, from across the table, passed her brother a slice of pie. “So in a way, Snookers, you could say that you helped Bernard figure it out.”
“I don’t know, Maya. It’s not like what I did was conscious or anything.”
“Anyone who talks as much as Snooky does is bound to say something intelligent sooner or later,” said Bernard. “Please pass the pie, Maya.”
There was a happy silence as they ate the blueberry pie.
“Bernard’s beating us, Maya,” said Snooky, eyeing his brother-in-law’s plate. “He always does beat us. I can never understand how he eats so fast.”
“I have a compound stomach,” remarked Bernard sourly, “not unlike a cow.”
“How is Gretchen?” asked Maya.
“She’s okay,” replied Snooky. “Albert was there and he took care of her. She was all shaken up, of course, but she’s going to be fine.”
“And Susan?”
“Well, when she heard all the commotion she opened the door and went dashing out of the kitchen. Just in time, too. I was running out of dreams. The last one I came up with, Deirdre was a gigantic whale and I was a big purple balloon floating among the stars.”
“Did she diagnose you as psychotic?”
“No, but I think she was beginning to look very worried.”
“How’s she handling everything?” asked Maya.
“Not too well, actually. She says she’ll never get married again.”
Maya nodded. “Well, she thinks that right now. She won’t always feel that way.”
Snooky regarded his sister curiously. “Really? That’s interesting. When did you become a seer?”
“I just happen to know about marriage, that’s all. Nearly everyone settles down sooner or later. Not everyone is like you, you know, Snooks. Most people want a relationship.”
Snooky was offended. “I want a relationship.”
“You only want bad ones.”
“I don’t want bad ones, Maya, they’re just the only ones that seem to happen to me.”
His sister shrugged. “You could have a decent relationship with a woman if you really wanted to.”
“You think so? Really?”
“Absolutely. You’re afraid of settling down. It’s very simple, Snooks. You have a deep-seated fear of attachment.”
“I enjoy being psychoanalyzed over dessert,” Snooky said cheerfully. He turned to his brother-in-law. “What do you think, Bernard?”
“I think I’m not getting enough pie,” said Bernard, squinting worriedly down the table.
“What I’m asking is, do you think I could have a decent relationship with a woman if I wanted to?”
“No. Is there any coffee left?”
“You see, Maya,” said Snooky. “Bernard understands my predicament. Besides, I think you’re overrating the element of choice in our lives. What about fate?”
“What about fate?”
“Well, maybe things just happen and we can’t always control them.”
“You can choose who you get involved with. Somebody who runs off with someone else while she’s living with you, and then writes a letter about her negative karma, is not a good choice, Snooky.”
Snooky sipped his coffee, his face troubled. “That’s the problem, Maya. She seemed so right at the time.”
“You drive me crazy, Snooks. Sometimes I think you’re never going to grow up.”
“Oh, that reminds me. All this stuff about relationships and settling down. Albert told me today that he and Gretchen have set a definite date. June twenty-fourth.”
“That’s nice.”
Bernard came back abruptly from a brief, happy reverie. “June? This June?”
“That’s right.”
“I hope you’re not planning to stay here until then?”
Snooky looked faintly insulted. “It’s only five months from now, Bernard. Less than that, even. You can put up with me for that long, can’t you?”
Bernard did not reply.
“I’m hurt, Bernard. I really am. But I’m not going to let it get to
me, because I know that underneath that moody exterior, you’re always delighted to have me around.”
Bernard let out a sound like a strangled roar. He got up and left the room. After a moment, they could hear the study door slam shut.
“You’re so cruel to him, Snooky,” Maya said reprovingly. “You didn’t mean it, did you?”
“Of course not. I already have my tickets. I’m out of here in two days. I’m going to visit some old friends in the Midwest.”
“So why do you have to torture him?”
“I can’t help it, My. I love watching him react. Is there any more blueberry pie, or did Bernard finish it all off before he left?”
Gretchen and Albert’s wedding was held on the hottest day of the summer, in the garden of the Whitaker estate, near where the roses bloomed and the violets sent out their delicate fragrance. Gretchen wore an antique cream-colored lace dress that flattered her narrow figure, and carried a bouquet of tiny pink roses. She had tied a strip of lace around her head, in the style of the twenties, and fastened it with a filigree brooch. She looked nervous but very happy. Albert wore a dark tuxedo and seemed to be acutely uncomfortable in it. He kept taking the jacket off in the heat, and then putting it back on. The expression of mute suffering on his face, however, gradually softened as he listened to the quiet words of the ceremony. To everyone’s surprise, he managed to produce the wedding ring at the correct moment (Susan, standing next to them as the maid of honor, gave an audible sigh of relief), and, at the end, he managed to give his bride a very satisfactory kiss. Afterwards, there was a lavish garden party under yellow-and-white striped tents spread out over the lawn.
Snooky had flown in from Kansas for the wedding and was telling Maya about his current girlfriend.
“She’s gorgeous, Maya, absolutely gorgeous. She’s part American Indian and she’s got waist-length black hair. You’ve never seen anything like it. Her father was a doctor specializing in rare tropical diseases, and she’s lived all over the world. She’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. You should hear the stories she has to tell. We’re planning to go to Burma together sometime. I feel like I’ve met my soul mate, Maya. My soul mate.”
“I give it two weeks,” Maya said, picking up an hors d’oeuvre. “Maybe three.”
“You don’t mean that, Maya. You say that, but you don’t mean it.”
“I don’t like the sound of this rare tropical disease stuff. How do you know she’s not carrying malaria or a parasitical worm or something?”
Snooky gazed at her reproachfully. “You’re jealous. Do you realize that, Maya? You’re jealous. You’re always jealous of my girlfriends.”
“Well, Snooky, I probably would be jealous, except none of your relationships last long enough for me to work up any real emotion over them. What do you think this is?”
“Escabèche,” said Snooky. “Marinated poached fish. Delicious. Aunt Etta is in good voice, isn’t she?”
Aunt Etta, seated at one of the tables, was calling loudly for a whisky-and-soda.
“There’s Susan over there. Did you know she’s been going out with that detective, what’s his name, Janovy, the one who was on the case, for a couple of months now? Albert says he thinks they’re getting serious. Isn’t life strange?”
“Yes. Almost as strange as these hors d’oeuvres. What’s this one?”
“Kappa-maki. Cucumber sushi. You dip it in the horseradish and wrap this ginger around it.”
“Oh. I see. How come you know all these things and I don’t, Snooks?”
“You haven’t been to as many parties as I have,” said Snooky, signaling for more champagne.
Bernard was standing by the buffet table in his dull gray suit. He was sweating profusely in the late June heat and watching little Harold eating caviar.
“That’s enough,” he said at last. “You’re not supposed to eat it with a shovel. Take one more cracker and go away.”
“But I’m not done.”
“You’ve already had more than enough.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.”
They regarded each other with open hostility.
“What does a little kid like you know about caviar, anyway?” Bernard asked. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“What does a fat pig like you know about caviar?” Harold responded. “It doesn’t seem right to me either.”
Bernard was insulted. “I am not a fat pig.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Another impasse. Bernard was struck by a wild impulse. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and thumbed out several ten-dollar bills.
“Here,” he said. “I’ll pay you to go away.”
Harold was intrigued. “How much?”
“Thirty dollars if you’ll go away and leave me alone.”
“Thirty dollars,” said Harold, deeply impressed. “Okay. Do you think I should tell my mother?”
“I wouldn’t,” said Bernard. He looked down meaningfully at Harold. A knowing glance passed between them. “I have no intention of telling my wife, or indeed anyone,” said Bernard, taking a cracker and spreading it generously with black caviar. “And I suggest you do likewise.”
“Gotcha,” said Harold.
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” said Bernard, but the boy was already gone, spinning like a tumbleweed over the sunlit grass.
Bernard was sitting comfortably ensconced in his study. The lights were out and he had his eyes closed. It was the day after the wedding and he was finding it difficult to regain his concentration. Any slight interruption of his routine upset him for days, and a major social event such as a wedding could throw him off course for weeks. He was pretending now to be working, but he was actually drifting into a pleasant, dreamy reverie when the lights came on and he felt a set of tiny claws digging into his wrist.
He opened his eyes. Snooky had plopped down in the chair opposite and was grinning at him wolfishly. On Bernard’s lap, clinging to his arm with all its might, was a tiny tiger-striped kitten. It bared its pointed teeth at him and began to yowl.
“Bernard, meet Snuffles Two. Snuffles, this is Bernard.”
Snuffles Two was looking him over and did not seem to like what it saw. It let go of his arm and sank its teeth firmly into his thumb.
“Let go,” said Bernard. “Let go. Do you hear me? Let go.”
Snuffles let go. Bernard looked down at it thoughtfully. “A cat,” he said.
“Correction. A kitten.”
“A tiger-striped cat.”
“That’s right.”
“And you named it Snuffles, you clever, clever bastard.”
“That’s right, Bernard. I hope you like the name.”
“Has Maya seen it yet?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And she went all misty-eyed and held it for a while and said loving things about the original Snuffles, is that right?”
“That’s right. How insightful you are, Bernard.”
“Then I suppose that I have no choice,” Bernard said dully. At his feet, Misty growled softly.
“It’s no use, Misty. We’ll have to get used to it. To it, and to Snooky. He’s back and he’ll never leave again, will you, Snooky? This is the final visit, isn’t it? The one I’ve been dreading all along? The one where you never, ever leave again?”
“We’ll go eventually, Bernard. Don’t fret. Look at Snuffles, he’s crazy about you. He senses your true inner nature, your feeling of kindness and compassion toward all living beings. Isn’t that right, Snuffles?”
Snuffles was curled up, purring thunderously, on Bernard’s lap.
“I was just visiting Susan,” Snooky said cheerfully. “She and her detective boyfriend and Harold are going to Disney World for a few days. They’ve been planning to go for a while, but they wanted to wait until after the
wedding.”
“That’s nice,” said Bernard. “They’re taking Harold?”
“Yes.”
“Well, at least he’ll have some pocket money.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, it’s time to go.” Snooky picked up Snuffles and put him on his shoulder, where the kitten clung, swaying dangerously. “Thanks for taking it so well, Bernard. See you later.”
“Good-bye, Snooky.”
Snooky went out, closing the door and turning out the lights, leaving a mute, defeated figure slumped in the darkness. He went downstairs to the living room and was lying on the sofa watching television when his sister came in. She picked up the kitten and began to coo.
“Oh, she’s so cute, Snooky. And she looks just like my Snuffles. She really does. Just like Snuffles when I found her, years ago, when she was a kitten. Oh, she’s so adorable.”
“I know. Susan says even that little demon Harold took to her right away. They had never had a pet before, but he always wanted one. He calls her Mabel. Don’t ask me why.”
“It’s hard to believe that Harold would take to anybody or anything,” said Maya. “Oh, it’s such a shame we can’t keep her. When are they getting back from Florida?”
“Next Friday.”
“Oh, well, we’ll have to enjoy her while she’s here. I bet Bernard was awfully relieved when you told him she wasn’t staying, wasn’t he?”
“Oh, yes,” Snooky said. “Yes, he certainly was.”