by Mary Daheim
Judith explained how Renie and Bill had left her purse unattended in the Autumn Bar. “They were probably gone for five minutes or so. The bar was crowded. Anyone could have slipped the note in my purse.”
Joe sighed deeply. “Not quite anyone. You said you left your purse under the chair? This person might have seen you put it there. What it comes down to is who, if anybody, among our potential suspects did you see in the bar?”
“Umm…” In her explanation about the purse, Judith had omitted the part about accosting G. D. Fromm, merely saying that she’d gone up to get a glass of water from the bartender. “Mr. Fromm was there,” she said in a casual voice. “So was Grisly, but only briefly, as far as I know. She came to fetch Mr. Fromm.”
“That makes two,” Joe said.
“I kind of doubt it was Mr. Fromm. I saw him leave and he wasn’t near my purse.”
“One, then,” Joe amended. “I suppose someone else could have done it while you were taking your pills.”
“Ah…yes, my pills.”
Joe was regarding his wife with professional skepticism. “Did you notice Bill and Renie leave for the cans?”
“No,” Judith admitted. “I was admiring the bar.”
“Sheesh.” Joe held out his hand. “Give me that napkin. I’ll turn it over to the lab, just in case.”
Judith obeyed. “The lab? What lab?”
“The county sheriff’s lab,” Joe said, holding the napkin’s corner between his thumb and forefinger. “The FBI has bailed on us for the time being. They’re chasing terrorists, or some other bunch of damned fools. We’re going to use the county lab, since Sheriff Costello has been good enough to offer it.”
Good wasn’t a word that Judith associated with Abbott N. Costello. Pigheaded, Inflexible, and Egotistical came more readily to mind. But all Judith said was, “Okay.”
“I’ve got to go back in there,” Joe said, indicating the door to Pancho’s outer office. “Inga Polson is considering sending her brother to the hospital. She thinks he’s having a breakdown.”
“Oh, dear. I suppose you can’t blame him after losing two of the women he loved most,” Judith said.
“True,” Joe responded, his hand on the doorknob. “Even if he might have caused the loss.”
Judith was surprised. “Do you really think he killed Sally and Micki?”
“Anything’s possible,” Joe said with a shrug. “As for Freddy being overcome—some killers can actually make themselves believe they didn’t do it. And others are so overwhelmed with guilt and grief that they fall apart. The mind plays strange tricks when terrible, irreversible wrongs occur.”
“Yes,” Judith agreed, “that’s true.” She hesitated as Joe started to open the door. “May I come with you?”
Joe looked pained. “You shouldn’t. This is an official double-homicide investigation.”
“Where’s Sheriff Costello?”
“Still at the crime scene,” Joe replied, looking antsy. “For now, he’s technical support only.”
Judith didn’t express her relief aloud. She pointed to the partially open door. “Can I?”
Joe was obviously debating with himself. “Not right now,” he finally said. “Wait until we see what happens to Freddy. It’s pretty awkward in there at the moment.”
Since Joe hadn’t given her a flat-out no, Judith’s spirits picked up. “That’s okay. You don’t mind if I speak with Grisly, do you?”
Joe paused. “No, go ahead. We’re short of manpower. Grisly’s acting as security in the reception area.”
“A suspect—I mean, a witness—as security?” Judith asked, puzzled.
“She’s used to keeping the groupies away from Freddy,” Joe said. “Besides, she’s all we’ve got.” His green eyes lit up. “Unless you want to sit in for her.”
“Sure,” Judith said, trying not to sound too eager. “I’d be glad to do it. Shall I?” She took a step toward the threshold.
“You’re on,” Joe said. “You tell her. And send her into the inner office, okay?” He breezed through the reception area and was gone.
Judith wasn’t going to waste her opportunity, however. She went through the outer door, leaned against the desk, and offered Grisly a sympathetic smile. “You must be worn out.”
“What?” Grisly spoke sharply. “Oh. Yes, I am. It’s been a grueling twenty-four hours.”
Judith cleared a space and perched on the desk. “I understand you’ve known Freddy and Sally since you were all kids in Shoshone, Idaho.”
“Right.” Grisly, who was doodling on a notepad, only glanced at Judith.
“You all went to grade school together, didn’t you?”
“Right.” Grisly was making slashing notations with a ballpoint pen. They looked like rainfall to Judith. Or maybe tears.
“Wasn’t Sally the girl next door?”
“Not to me.” Grisly kept doodling.
“I meant to Freddy,” Judith said, trying to be patient.
“Oh. Well, almost. They lived on the same street.”
“But you all went through school together,” Judith pointed out.
“Through grade school. Right.” Abruptly, Grisly stopped doodling and scrunched up the piece of paper. “Lay off, will you? I don’t feel like talking about this stuff. It’s a really bad time for me.”
“And everybody else,” Judith reminded Grisly. “You’re done here. I’m taking over. They want you in the inner office.”
“My, my,” Grisly said in a sarcastic tone, “since when did they put you in charge?”
“Since my husband told me to take over here,” Judith replied crossly as the door opened to reveal G. D. Fromm and Lloyd Watts carrying Freddy Polson out of the inner office. Inga Polson and Pancho Green followed the trio into the reception area.
“We’re putting Freddy to bed,” Pancho announced. “Doc Engelman should be back soon. He can give Freddy a sedative. Inga will sit with him in the meantime.”
Freddy was twitching all over the place, as if he was having a seizure. G.D. and Lloyd were having trouble getting him out into the hallway.
“Be careful!” Inga bellowed. “Freddy’s delicate, he’s sensitive! He’s not a bag of barley!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” G.D. shot back as he edged past Judith and into the corridor. “We know who the bag is around here.”
Judith caught Inga’s hostile glare as she trooped behind the men. But something else caught her eye as well: There was a flash or two of glitter on the back of G.D.’s suit jacket. It looked very much like the flecks that Judith had brushed off her own clothing earlier in the evening. She wondered if Fromm had been the man who’d bumped into her in the darkened coffee shop.
Grisly banged on the door behind the little group. “Even though he’s Freddy’s manager, G.D. doesn’t act like it sometimes. Poor Freddy.” With a worried expression, she stalked off into the inner office.
Judith sat down at the desk. To her disappointment, Grisly hadn’t left any telltale items behind. The drawers revealed nothing of interest except for materials and supplies that Pancho’s regular receptionist used. Even the daybook didn’t contain anything that might be regarded as suspicious. The receptionist—whose name was Alberta Saenz, according to her individualized memo pad—was terse in her notations for Pancho’s business day:
Monday, March 5—L.R. re St. Patrick’s Day promos, 9 A.M.
D.A. re land survey, 10 A.M.
P.J. re St. Patrick’s Day menu, 11:15 A.M.
Lunch—county commissioners, noon
R.B. re investment portfolio, 2 P.M.
N.G., USDI, 3:30 P.M.
G.D.F. re main stage, 4:45 P.M.
All entries had been canceled for Tuesday, March sixth, and Wednesday, March seventh. No doubt, Judith thought, because of the tragedy. In any event, the half dozen that had been scheduled seemed mainly to deal with the upcoming St. Patrick’s Day festivities and a look ahead to Easter.
The only thing on Monday’s agenda that caught Judith�
�s eye was the last afternoon appointment with G.D.F., who, she assumed, was G. D. Fromm. But that wasn’t surprising. Freddy’s act was playing in the cabaret. Looking at the casino’s entertainment schedule, she noted that the Great Mandolini had opened Friday, March second, and was slated to run through the nineteenth. The replacement act, which had been penciled in by someone, was a Country & Western band called the Kitshickers. The grunge group that had opened for Freddy’s act would do the same for the new troupe.
Judith drummed her nails on the desk. Who was still in Pancho’s office? The exodus had been fairly large. Joe was still in there, so were Pancho, Grisly, Jack Jackrabbit, and Manny Quinn. That was about it.
Or was, until Lloyd Watts and G. D. Fromm returned from taking Freddy to his room. Lloyd paused to nod at Judith, but G.D. bustled toward the second door.
Judith couldn’t resist. “Mr. Fromm,” she called out, “could you come here for a moment?”
Fromm gave Judith a puzzled look. “What now?”
“Nothing important,” Judith simpered as G.D. took a couple of backward steps. “I didn’t notice when we were in the bar because it was so dark, but,” she went on, rising from the chair and coming around the desk, “you have something on your suit coat.”
“Huh?” G.D. shot Judith a doubtful glance, then wiggled a bit as Judith brushed him off. “What is it? Bugs?”
“No,” Judith replied, examining the four tiny specks on her palm, “not unless they’re gold bugs. What is this stuff?”
G.D. stared at the hand that Judith held out to him. She thought he gave a little start, but he shook his head so emphatically that his combover slipped a notch. “Who knows? Something off the stage sets or the costumes, maybe. I’m outta here.” He tromped into Pancho’s office.
Lloyd, however, lingered. “Let me have a look, eh?”
“Sure.” Judith showed him the specks. “They shine.”
“They do.” Lloyd pressed one onto his middle finger to examine it more closely. “Some kind of glitter. I think one of Sally’s costumes has this on it. But she didn’t wear it Monday night.”
“This is Tuesday,” Judith pointed out. “Was G.D. wearing the same suit yesterday?”
Lloyd looked uneasy. “Gosh…I don’t know. He always wears a dark suit. Could be the same one, for all I know.”
Something was niggling at Judith’s brain. It was more gold glitter, but she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it. “Who’s in charge of the costumes?”
“Grisly,” Lloyd replied. “She takes care of all the gear. Props, too. Everything.”
“I see,” Judith said. But she didn’t see much except the glittery specks that still adhered to her palm. With a shrug, she wiped them off with a Kleenex from a box on the desk. “It probably doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Better go inside,” Lloyd murmured and hurried into the office.
“Rats!” Judith said aloud when the door closed behind Lloyd. She didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with the murder case. She couldn’t even get into Pancho’s office. Frustrated, she plopped back down in the chair. The phone rang as soon as she was seated.
“Pancho Green’s office,” she said in her best telephone voice. “May I help you?”
“Who’s this?” the man at the other end asked, sounding puzzled.
Judith recognized Doc Engelman’s voice. “It’s Judith Flynn, Joe’s wife, Doctor. I’m manning the reception desk in Pancho’s office.”
“Good for you,” Doc Engelman said. “Can you deliver a message to your husband and Jack Jackrabbit?”
“Certainly,” Judith replied. “Are you still at the hospital?”
“Yes, the one here in Glacier Falls,” Doc said. “I’m sticking around for a bit to make sure Mrs. Flax can be released.”
“Mrs. Flax?” Judith repeated.
“Yes, she’s the woman who was holding the saber. We managed to ID her through the hotel’s front desk,” Doc explained. “She checked in last night. Her name is Marta Ormond Flax, age forty-six, from Salt Lake City, Utah. The poodle is Fou-Fou Eugenie des Plaines, age five, also from Salt Lake. The dog, I believe, is still at the hotel.”
Judith had jotted down all the information. “I gather Mrs. Flax is going to be okay?”
“She’d be better if she went straight to rehab,” Doc asserted. “But that’s not up to me.”
Judith cleared her throat. “Don’t be put off by the question, but is there a policeman with her at the hospital?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Since she was holding what might be a murder weapon,” Judith explained, “she could be a suspect. My husband would want to know if someone is stationed there.”
“He already knows,” Engelman replied a bit gruffly. “It’s that county deputy, Plummer. Just pass on the information about Mrs. Flax’s condition, okay?”
Judith said she would. After hanging up, she realized that she could ring Pancho’s inner office. But she preferred delivering the message in person. A rap on the door brought her face-to-face with Jack Jackrabbit.
“What is it?” he asked, his thin face serious.
“May I come in?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder, into the smoky room. “Why?” he inquired when there was no response from the others, including Joe.
“I have a message from Dr. Engelman.” Judith tried to edge into the room.
Jack stood his ground. “What is it?”
“It’s confidential.”
Jack looked puzzled. “There’s nobody here but us.”
Judith looked past Jack to Joe, who was unwrapping a cigar and ignoring his wife. “Oooh…” With an angry gesture, Judith handed over the note she’d written. “Here. Read it for yourself. By the way,” she said over her shoulder as she headed back into the reception area, “I quit.”
“Quit what?” Jack asked as Judith slammed the door in his face.
She snatched up her purse and marched out of the office and into the hall, telling herself there was absolutely no reason why she had to spend the evening stuck behind a desk. It appeared there was no way she was going to be allowed into the inner sanctum. She got in the elevator and got off on the casino floor. Renie could darn well stop shoveling quarters into those blasted machines and do something worthwhile.
It took Judith almost ten minutes to find her cousin, who had moved on to the Summer section.
“Have you won anything yet?” Judith asked in a crabby voice.
Renie looked up from her Super Sunshine slot. “Dribs and drabs. What’s with you?”
“I’m mad. Frustrated, too,” Judith replied, sitting down next to Renie. “I don’t understand Joe.”
“What’s to understand? He’s a man.” Renie shoved a twenty-dollar bill into the machine. “Play that next one. Some old coot won a hundred bucks on it a few minutes ago.”
“You play it,” Judith snapped.
“I would except somebody won four hundred dollars off this one just before I showed up,” Renie replied. “I figure it might still be hot. Go on, take a chance.”
Judith figured it might be best to humor her cousin for a few minutes. “Okay,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll put a ten into it. No more.”
“Aha!” Renie was smiling at the machine. “I got twenty bucks! This one’s okay!”
Judith pushed the button and saw two suns and a rain cloud show up. “This one’s not.”
“Give it time,” Renie said. “What’s your problem with Joe?”
“One minute, he seems to think I could be of help just talking to people involved in the case,” Judith explained as a sun, a moon, and a jackpot symbol showed across the line. “Then the next, he won’t let me near the suspects. I don’t get it.”
“I suppose he has to present a professional facade to the casino folks,” Renie said. “Hey—another twenty!”
“Good for you,” Judith said without enthusiasm. “I’ve been sitting in Pancho’s office like a big twerp for the past half hour, doing
absolutely nothing. It makes me antsy.” She paused, gazing at the screen. “What’s with these three symbols?”
Renie leaned over to take a look. “Holy cats! That’s the jackpot! You just won a thousand bucks!”
Judith frowned. “Is that why those bells are going off and the light is flashing?”
“That’s right!” Renie had gotten out of her chair and was jumping up and down behind Judith. “Coz, you’re amazing! Didn’t I tell you that thing was hot? High fives!”
Judith held up a limp hand. Renie slapped it so hard that Judith marveled her cousin didn’t dislocate her shoulder.
But Renie wasn’t done celebrating. She leaned past Judith to kiss the slot machine, then did a little dance in the aisle. “Wahoo!” she cried. “Yippee! Hooray for coz!”
“Cut it out,” Judith said sharply as a crowd began to gather. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Renie stopped in midstep. “Huh?” She looked around at the spectators. “Oh. Nothing to see here, nothing to see here.”
The small crowd didn’t agree. They saw the three symbols lined up on the screen and began to applaud.
Judith flinched. “Goodness,” she breathed. “What do I do now?”
“Cash out,” Renie said. “It’s set on credit now. Here.” She pressed the appropriate button. A cascade of coins began crashing into the metal tray.
“Good Lord,” Judith exclaimed, “how am I going to carry all these quarters to the coin booth?”
“You aren’t,” Renie replied. “Look.” She pointed to the instructions at the top of the machine. “This thing only pays the first four hundred quarters. They’ll bring you the rest of it in bills.” Renie’s head jerked up. “Here comes a mechanic now.”
The mechanic was followed by a cocktail waitress who was followed by two men who looked like floor bosses, all of whom showered profuse congratulations on Judith. Players passing by stopped in admiration. The machine, which had finally dumped all of its treasure, was opened with a key. Another mechanic showed up with a fresh bag of quarters. Meanwhile, one of the floor bosses made some notations, then opened his wallet and handed Judith nine one-hundred-dollar bills. The hopper was refilled. Judith was asked to pull off the winning jackpot so no one else could claim to have won it. The new spin netted her another twenty-five dollars.