by Mary Daheim
“I don’t believe this,” Judith gasped as the casino employees practically bowed and scraped their way back down the aisle. The onlookers were talking among themselves, their words running the gamut from pleasure to envy.
“Believe it,” Renie said with a grin. “I’ll help you scoop up the coins. You’ll need three buckets for all of this.”
The cousins dug and delved for several minutes. Finally, Judith cashed out her latest winnings while Renie emptied about two hundred quarters of her own into a separate bucket.
The coins were heavy. The cousins slowly made their way to the nearest change booth where Judith was given another hunsky, plus an additional thirty-three dollars.
“I’m taking the hundreds to the safe,” she declared with an ominous glance at her cousin. “I wouldn’t want to leave my purse full of hundred-dollar bills with my loved ones and have it stolen. Want to come with me?”
Unfazed by the barb, Renie demurred. “I’m going back to those same machines if the vultures haven’t already taken over. I’ll see you when you get done.”
Dolly was on duty again at the cashier’s window. “Aha!” she exclaimed with a toothy smile. “You must be reeling ’em in. Whatcha got now, sweetie?”
Carefully, Judith counted out the ten bills, but held on to the last one. “I just remembered—I owe my cousin a hundred dollars. I’ll keep one bill for her.”
Dolly laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “Keep it in the family, that’s the way. Do you want a cashier’s check or shall I put the bills in the safe with your other winnings?”
“I’ll have you make out a cashier’s check and put it in the safe like you did the other time,” Judith said.
“You’re the boss,” Dolly said, taking the money. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with your receipt.”
Judith glanced over her shoulder. Five people stood in line behind her. She smiled apologetically. A dark-haired woman whose skin was weathered by the sun and whose glasses had frames shaped like butterfly wings came out from the back to open a second cashier’s window. Two of the people behind Judith stepped out of the line and moved toward the counter.
It seemed to be taking Dolly a long time to type up a check, write a receipt, and put the money in the safe. Could the bills be counterfeit? There’d been an article in the newspaper recently about phony twenties and even some bogus hundreds being passed in the area. Judith began to fret.
But a moment later, Dolly reappeared, receipt in hand. Her usual cheerful expression was gone, however, replaced by a worried look. Behind the window’s gilded bars, she leaned as close as she could to Judith.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Flynn,” she whispered. “I think a mistake has been made.”
Judith’s worst fears were confirmed. “The money’s no good?”
Dolly looked shocked. “Oh, no! It’s not that.” Her voice had risen, but she lowered it once more. “I believe one of the new hires got confused and put something into your safe by mistake.” She glanced around nervously, then spoke so softly that Judith could hardly hear her. “You didn’t have us put a bag of gold nuggets in the safe, did you?”
TWELVE
JUDITH CAUGHT HERSELF before speaking too loudly. “No,” she said softly but firmly. “No gold nuggets. Definitely not.”
Dolly’s shoulders slumped in relief. “That’s what I thought. Really, you’d think young people these days would know the alphabet. I’ll take care of the matter right away. Meanwhile, here’s your receipt and four comps for dinner tomorrow night in our premier restaurant, the Johnny-Jump-Up Room. It’s our way of apologizing for the mix-up. Now,” she went on, her voice back to normal, “you run along and knock ’em dead.”
Judith was so lost in thought as she made her way back to the Summer section that she almost collided with Joe.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, catching her by the arm. “What’s up? You’re in a daze.”
“Oh!” She smiled halfheartedly at her husband. “Are you finished with the interviews?”
Joe nodded. “For now. Not that they’ve done us much good.”
Judith refrained from saying that if she had more opportunity to converse with the suspects, she might be able to learn some helpful information. Instead, she merely offered Joe commiseration.
“The evening’s still young,” he remarked, gazing at the baccarat tables where Bill was studying one of the games. “It’s not quite ten o’clock. I think I’ll get Bill to further my baccarat education.”
“Okay.” As with her earlier winnings, Judith decided not to tell Joe about her most recent windfall. She couldn’t mention the mistake about the gold nuggets, either. If she did, she’d have to explain why she was at the cashier’s window. Her silence would serve him right for keeping her out of the interview room. “I’ll be with Renie. Wherever she might be.”
“Okay,” Joe said, starting toward Bill. “If I don’t see you around in the casino, I’ll go to the room about midnight.”
“Fine,” Judith said before continuing on her quest to find Renie.
It wasn’t difficult. Renie was still in the Summer section, but she had taken off a shoe and was pounding the slot machine in front of her and swearing at the top of her lungs. A half dozen onlookers stood well back, cringing at each cuss word and wincing at every whack.
“Coz!” Judith cried, hurrying up to her irate cousin. “Stop that! You’re making a spectacle of yourself!”
Renie let out one more shriek and gave the slot machine a swift kick with her stockinged foot. “Ow!” She scowled, rubbed her foot, and shot the gawkers a menacing look. “Beat it, or I’ll charge admission. That’s the only way I’m going to make any money in this stupid place.”
The spectators moved away, some of them shaking their heads, others chuckling. Renie put her shoe back on and turned to Judith.
“Well?”
“I take it you’re losing,” Judith said in a calm voice.
“Yes, I’m losing,” Renie retorted. “How can you possibly tell?”
Judith reached into her purse and took out her wallet. “Never mind. Though I do wonder why you still throw temper tantrums and beat up inanimate objects when you’re almost old enough for Medicare.”
“So what? If I hurt myself when I hit sixty-five, I’ll get better medical coverage.” Renie fingered her chin. “Or will I? I’ve never understood Medicare.”
“Never mind,” Judith said with a sigh, handing over the hundred-dollar bill she owed her cousin from the roulette winnings. “As long as you’re losing, why don’t you come with me?”
Renie, who was eyeing the slot machines with loathing, accepted the money with mumbled thanks. “Come where?” she asked.
“Backstage.”
“We can’t go there. It’s performance time.”
“Not on a Tuesday,” Judith said, marching in the direction of the cabaret. “The guests will be attending the French revue and the would-be Elvis shows on the second stage.”
The first thing that the cousins noticed when they got to the door that led backstage was that the crimescene tape was gone. So was any sign of a security guard. The only deterrent to their passage was a large sign that read “Keep Out.” Judith and Renie ignored it.
But the door was locked.
“You can pick a lock,” Renie said. “Go for it.”
Judith grimaced. It was true that she had the expertise. During her marriage to Dan, it had been necessary to open desk drawers and strongboxes simply to learn if there was a lien on the McMonigle house or if they’d been charged with income-tax evasion and were headed for the federal penitentiary.
“People are going by,” Judith protested. “I don’t dare. We’ll get in trouble.”
“So?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Judith fixed Renie with a warning stare. “Do you want to get thrown out of the resort?”
Renie looked as if she were weighing the consequences. “You’re right,” she finally said with a shrug. “It was a dumb idea anyway. Maybe I should tr
y roulette or blackjack.”
“Maybe not,” Judith murmured, looking beyond Renie to the approaching figure of Manny Quinn. “Hold it, here comes Mr. Quinn.”
“What’s up?” he asked.
“No one told us this door was locked,” Judith said with a perturbed expression. “You’re Manny Quinn, aren’t you? Have you got a key?”
“Yeah,” Manny replied, a wary glint in his gray eyes. “So what?”
“So you can let us in,” Judith said. “Really, this is too frustrating. How can I get my husband’s glasses if the door’s locked? I’m Mrs. Joe Flynn.”
“Men,” Renie said, rolling her eyes.
Manny studied Judith for a moment, perhaps trying to place her. “Flynn left his glasses in there?”
“Yes,” Judith responded. “He doesn’t wear them all the time, but he needs them for reading.”
“What the hell,” Manny muttered. “Here, follow me.” He palmed a key from the pocket of his tailored slacks and slipped it into the lock. “Ladies first,” he said, making an expansive gesture.
“Thanks, Mr. Quinn,” Judith said. “Will we be able to get out or should we wait for you?”
Manny didn’t need a key to open the second door. “I may be a while. I think it’s unlocked from this side anyway. If not, get one of the techs to let you out.” He allowed the cousins to go first, then paused at a mirror to smooth his silver hair. “Do you know where your old man left his glasses?”
“Umm…Somewhere near the Mandolini costumes, I think.”
“Then you go downstairs,” Manny said. “There’s a spiral staircase over there by that red piano.”
Judith found the steel steps and led the way to the basement. “It’s kind of dark down here,” she said, descending the staircase with caution.
“By the way, why are we here?” Renie asked as they reached the bottom.
“Aside from the fact that we’re trying to help Joe solve a double homicide,” Judith said, feeling along the wall for a light switch, “I’m curious. I’ve never been behind the scenes in a theater before.”
“I have,” Renie replied. “It’s not that big a thrill. Why don’t we try the lamp over in the corner? Maybe it turns on higher than dim.”
The lamp, of the gooseneck variety, had only one wattage, but there was a switch next to the plug in. Judith clicked it. Two overhead bulbs came on, giving sufficient light for exploration.
“I don’t suppose they keep the animals down here,” Judith said, taking in the area that was about the size of a baseball diamond.
“Hardly,” Renie replied. “They’re outside somewhere, probably in trailers.”
“Good.” Judith’s gaze roamed around the cluttered basement. There were wardrobes marked “Costumes,” piles of scenery, musical instruments, and every imaginable prop, from a church altar to twelve-foot-high flamingos on stilts. “This is a maze,” she said. “Look, here’s an old wind-up Victrola like the one we had at the cabin. And there’s a washstand just like mine that I use for the minibar in the dining room.”
“This wardrobe is marked ‘Vintage,’” Renie noted. “I’ll bet it’s full of clothes that we wore in our younger years. You’ve probably still got some of them since you never throw anything out.”
Judith didn’t respond to her cousin’s dig. Instead, she was studying another wardrobe that had “Mandolini” stenciled on its side. “Let’s have a peek,” she said, carefully trying to pry open the front of the wooden box.
A shimmering array of costumes was revealed to the cousins. There were long gowns, bathing suits, cloaks, capes, and even a couple of cat costumes.
“Sally’s,” Judith remarked. “The rest of it looks like Freddy’s outfits. Dark suits, capes, white shirts. Of course, the costume Sally wore when she was killed isn’t here.”
Renie’s trained eye had zeroed in on a strapless copper gown that looked smaller and shorter than the others. Underneath it was a purple satin number about the same size.
“What do you make of these two?” Renie asked, fingering the satin material.
It took Judith a few seconds to understand what her cousin meant. “Ah. Those two outfits wouldn’t fit Sally.” She studied the gowns for a moment or two. “Micki?”
“Backup?” Renie said.
“Maybe.” Carefully, Judith lifted the gowns just enough to check the labels for sizing. “These are both a six. The others are a ten.”
“So Micki was the understudy?”
“I suppose there’d have to be one,” Judith said. “But that wasn’t Micki we saw at the end of the act. So how—” She stopped abruptly, espying the silver gown underneath the two size sixes. “Good Lord,” she gasped. “This is the dress that Sally wore in the saber scene!”
“It can’t be,” Renie declared. “That dress would be evidence.”
“Yes, it would,” Judith agreed, removing the sparkling silver gown. “But it’s unharmed.” She locked gazes with her cousin. “Which can mean only one thing—this is a duplicate. So who wore it?”
“We’ve been through that,” Renie replied. “Grisly is the only one who might fit into one of Sally’s costumes.”
“No, she isn’t,” Judith said, staring at the silver gown. “How about Marta Flax of Salt Lake City?”
Renie was mystified. “Huh?”
“The blonde with the poodle,” Judith said. “Doc Engelman told me who she is. Marta checked into the resort yesterday.”
“She almost checked out today,” Renie noted, “permanently. So who is she now that she’s not catatonic?”
Judith was still gazing at the ball gown and didn’t answer right away. “What? Oh—all I know is her name and where she’s from. But she’s the right size and has blond hair. You know, we ought to take this dress to Joe so he can send it to the county lab for DNA testing.”
“You’d better not touch it,” Renie said. “Get Joe or Jack Jackrabbit to do it. We might screw it up.”
“You’re right,” Judith agreed, making sure everything in the wardrobe was arranged in its proper order. “I’ll tell Joe right away.”
The cousins were closing the door when they heard a voice from somewhere above them.
“Who’s there?”
Judith turned quickly, gazing up at the spiral staircase. All she could see were feet. Sneakers and pants cuffs. The voice belonged to a man. Before Judith could respond, Renie spoke up.
“We’re burglars. Who wants to know?”
“What?” The man moved slowly down the stairs.
Judith recognized Lloyd Watts. “Lloyd! You scared us. Have you met my cousin, Serena?”
Lloyd looked relieved. “Not burglars, eh?”
“Hardly,” Judith said as Lloyd joined them. “We just wanted to look around. I’ve never been backstage before. It’s fascinating.”
Lloyd waved a hand. “All this junk?”
“It’s interesting junk,” Judith said. “How can you tell where everything is?”
Lloyd shrugged. “Easy. I know what’s ours and what isn’t. I came down to get my theremin. Somebody put it down here after…the tragedy. I like to keep it with me. They’re kind of rare.”
“I enjoyed your performance,” Renie said. “I’d heard about the theremin, but I’d never seen it played before. It certainly suits a magic act. Illusion, I mean.”
“It’s a different kind of soul music,” Lloyd said. “You don’t touch it. So it’s like playing with your soul. You know—a communion, a spiritual thing.” He stopped speaking as he scanned the section where several instruments were stored. “Ah. There it is. Doesn’t seem right. Not with drums and oboes and banjos.”
Lloyd retrieved his precious theremin, gave the cousins a diffident smile, and headed back up the staircase.
“Shall we?” Renie asked of Judith as Lloyd’s sneakers disappeared from view.
“We might as well,” Judith said. “Let me turn off the overhead lights.”
She flicked the switch on the wall, leaving only the g
ooseneck lamp for illumination. Despite the dim light, Judith was still gazing around the basement. She didn’t see the cord from the lamp, and tripped over it.
“Oops!” she cried, catching herself on an item that was encased in heavy plastic.
“Are you okay?” Renie asked, alarmed.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Judith turned around. “The lamp’s fine, too. I was afraid I might have knocked it over.”
“Give yourself a minute,” Renie cautioned as she moved closer to Judith. “Make sure your hip’s all right.”
The cousins both jumped and screamed as a hurtling object fell from above and crashed on the exact spot where Renie had just been standing.
“My God!” Judith cried. “What is it? You could have been killed!”
“So could you,” Renie said, her eyes huge and her face pale. “Whatever it is landed only a couple of feet away from both of us.” Tentatively, she took a step closer to the bulky object. “It’s one of those sandbag things they use for theater curtains.” She stared up into the far reaches of the basement ceiling. “There’s a catwalk up there. But I don’t see anything now.”
“It must have been an accident,” Judith said, but she felt uneasy as well as shaken. It had probably been foolish to insist upon snooping in the basement. Maybe fate was telling Judith to mind her own business for once.
Given her nature, that was impossible. Still clinging to the large plastic wrapping, she tried to settle her nerves. And the longer she held on to the plastic, the more her curiosity grew. “What is this thing? They’re two of them, in fact.”
“Two whats?” Renie asked, taking one last look up into the shadowy area above them.
Judith grimaced. “This is weird. They feel like statues.”
“That’s not weird,” Renie replied. “This place is jammed with props.”
Acknowledging that Renie was right, Judith started to walk away. But something stopped her in her tracks. “I have to peek,” she declared. “Let me see if I can open this plastic just enough to see whether it’s the Venus de Milo or Minnie Pearl.”