by Mary Daheim
Renie glanced at her with mild reproof. “You haven’t gotten shot yet, which is more than I can say for some. Count your blessings.”
Judith wasn’t appeased. “Such as what? Going out of business? I mean it, coz, every time our side of the family has anything to do with Toadie and her crew, there’s trouble. Remember when she took her bridge club to the family cabin and they set fire to the outhouse? If it hadn’t been raining, the whole place would have gone up. Then there was the Labor Day picnic at Grandma and Grandpa Grover’s, and Marty brought along a baby alligator that got loose and ate all the hot dogs. Auntie Vance sat on it by mistake and swore it bit her in the backside, so your father shot it with his .22.”
“The alligator was better looking than most of Marty’s dates,” Renie noted. “Yes, yes, I know you’re vexed and all that, so am I, but there’s not much we can do about it. Two hours ago we could have called a cab and come back later for your car. Now we’re stuck waiting for…”
Joe, Githa Lagerquist, and a young plainclothes policeman Judith didn’t recognize returned to the living room. Joe wore a grim expression.
“It’s the Mayor’s cousin, all right. Poor devil,” he added, smoothing his red hair and straightening his tie. “The I.D. was intact. Fortunately, most of it was encased in plastic, so it didn’t get ruined in the pond.”
“What happened to him?” Judith asked, not overly anxious to hear the reply.
Joe gazed longingly at Judith’s almost empty scotch glass. “It appears he was shot through the chest. I’m not making any guesses about when. The pond was frozen over last night, right?”
Judith nodded, unsettled by her husband’s reserved manner. “Was that his car we saw being towed a couple of hours ago?”
“Right.” Joe turned to Lagerquist. “Call for a couple of officers to secure this place. Althaus is staying, but I’m going downtown with the body. I’d better give the Mayor the bad news in person.” He nodded at his subordinate. “Jack, you’re in charge. I’ll see you later.” As ever, Joe’s step was light; he headed for the entry hall.
“Now wait a minute,” Judith called, running after him. She caught up with her husband at the stained-glass double doors. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad. You put me on the spot with this overtime. Renie and I are coming with you. You can drop us off at the B&B on your way downtown.”
Joe’s mouth twitched, not with his usual amusement, but in exasperation. “No way am I running you and Renie over to Heraldsgate Hill. That’s at least fifteen minutes out of our way. I’ve got the Mayor’s cousin in a body bag and Buck Doerflinger as the detective of record on what is turning out to be my case. I’ll have everybody—the Mayor included—on my case if I don’t get my ass in gear. The least you can do is sit here like a good girl and wait for…” Joe paused, his annoyed expression turning quizzical. “What are you waiting for? I thought you’d be home a couple of hours ago, but when I called, your mother said you hadn’t shown up yet.”
“The Stanza won’t start,” Judith said, her own anger rising. “We’re waiting for the AAA. Listen, Joe, you can call Hillside Manor and make sure Mother welcomes the guests. Did you say she was in the house?”
Joe made an impatient gesture with his hand. “I told you, I don’t have time for this crap. I’m out of here. See you.” He started through the double doors, but Judith grabbed the tail of his tweed sport coat.
“Don’t you dare call my work crap! I make as much money off the B&B as you do playing cop! Why the hell are you so mad anyway?”
Joe, who had been trying to tug free of Judith’s grasp, suddenly pivoted on one heel. His face had turned very florid and his green eyes snapped. “You didn’t tell me about Boo’s murder. I had to find out when I went to work this morning. On top of it, that jackass Doerflinger got assigned to the investigation. I come in wearing my best babe-in-the-woods expression, and before I can look at the case list, half the force is giving me a hard time about the murder at Major Manor. Not,” he went on, the ire rising in his voice, “because of you, since nobody—thank God—seems to know you’re here, but because of Buck. Here’s a corpse worth billions, a member of a family whose name is synonymous with breakfast around the globe, an investigation that will make news from downtown to Delhi, and the man of the hour is none other than my all-time favorite meathead, Buck Doerflinger! But does my dear wife tell me?” He lowered his voice and leaned down, so that his nose was almost touching Judith’s forehead. “No. She keeps it all to herself. Now she can play amateur sleuth and help Buck-the-Wonder-Cop come up wearing roses on his big fat butt. As I said, see you.” Joe slammed the double doors and the outer door, almost simultaneously.
Seething, Judith stomped back into the living room. Renie had just made herself another drink. “You’re driving,” she said lightly, then noticed Judith’s angry face. “Oops. What’s wrong?”
“Joe’s what’s wrong,” Judith replied angrily. “Here I was, trying to spare him some worry, and now he’s mad at me! Men!” She stormed past a bewildered Jack Althaus and collapsed onto the sofa.
Knowing it was futile to try to placate Judith in her present mood, Renie poured her cousin a dollop of scotch. “Bill’s mad, too,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll probably get home too late to put the beef ribs on.”
“We’re never getting home,” Judith grumbled, accepting the drink and glaring at the unfortunate Althaus. “Well? Are you securing the crime scene or studying us for aberrations?”
Althaus cleared his throat. He was not yet thirty, with fair hair already thinning on top and pointed features that gave him a fey look. His gray eyes were sharp, however, and though his frame was spare, his hands were long and sinewy.
“I need to ask you two some questions.” He remained standing at the end of the sofa. His tone was diffident, but Judith sensed authority in his manner.
“Like what? Why I married Joe Flynn?” she blurted out. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure. I enjoyed being a widow. Maybe I’ll try it again.” She took a deep pull on her scotch.
Althaus appeared jarred by her comment. “I’d like to leave personalities out of this,” he said, concentrating on removing a notebook from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Let’s start with names.”
“How about jerk, creep, and insensitive boob?” Judith shot back. “When we get through with Joe, we can move on to Bill.”
“Bill?” the young detective echoed in a faint voice.
Judith sighed. “Never mind. I’m Judith McMonigle Flynn. Mrs.—excuse the expression—Joseph.” She went on to give her address, phone number, and occupation as a B&B hostess and a caterer. “Or so I was, until today. Now, because of my husband and my mother, I’m going on food stamps and will have to get into a work-study program at a community college so that I can reeducate myself and—”
Renie did her best to jab Judith in the ribs without spilling her drink. She failed. Scotch splashed onto the sofa. Renie winced, then smiled at Jack Althaus.
“You’ll have to forgive my cousin. She hasn’t been married as long as I have. At least not to the same man.” Renie frowned, aware that her explanation hadn’t come out exactly right.
Eventually, Althaus extracted the information he needed, which involved the discovery of the body in the lily pond and any knowledge of the victim’s presence at Major Manor.
“We didn’t get here until late yesterday afternoon,” Renie explained, taking over for the still-fuming Judith. “Nobody mentioned anything to us about a building inspector. You might try contacting the masons who were working on the house.”
“Which firm is it?” he asked, grateful for Renie’s cooperation.
She had no idea. “They were fired Friday by Mrs. Grover. Mrs. Theodora Grover,” she added, to avoid any confusion with the rest of the family. “The housekeeper would know, too, but she’s not here because her husband…” Renie made a vague gesture with her hands.
“Is that Wakefield?” Althaus asked.
Renie nodded. “It’s probably a mistake. Weed’s arrest, I mean. Since Buck Doerflinger hauled him away, we’ve found—”
“The liquor cabinet,” Judith interrupted, suddenly back on an even keel. Noting the plainclothesman’s puzzled reaction, she gave him her most engaging smile. “We needed a stiff drink. Two bodies in two days, you know. Very stressful.”
“I see,” responded Althaus, though his uncertain tone indicated he didn’t. Flipping through his notebook, he asked if there was anyone else in the house. The cousins said there wasn’t, though the housekeeper and the maid should be returning shortly.
Satisfied, he left the living room, presumably to make a search of Major Manor and have a last look at the sunken garden.
“Well?” Renie arched her eyebrows at Judith.
“It was best to quit while we were ahead,” Judith replied with a sheepish expression.
“How come? Don’t you want to help Joe?” Recalling her cousin’s anger with her husband, Renie bit her tongue.
But Judith didn’t jump on the remark. “Of course, though he doesn’t deserve it. The problem is, I forgot to give him the gun.”
“Oh!” Renie slapped a hand over her mouth.
Judith nodded. “That’s right, it’s still in the trunk of my car. I was so mad at him that it slipped my mind.”
Renie let the blunder slide. The door chimes rang, signaling the arrival of Althaus’s backup. Judith and Renie saw them go through the entry hall. Althaus apparently was leading them out via the back door.
Judith sprang off the sofa. “Let’s go check on that exterior wall of the den. We can watch for the tow truck from there, too.”
The cousins slipped out through the garage. The sun was going down, and the air had again grown chilly. Clouds were gathering, coming in from the north. Anxiously, Judith scanned the street in both directions. There was no sign of the AAA.
A flower bed about three feet wide separated the lawn from the house. It was empty, except for a few low-lying evergreens and an azalea. Judith stood on the grass, searching for footprints. There were plenty of them, no doubt from the workmen, and probably from the murderer as well.
“I hate to walk on the dirt, just in case the police might get a print,” Judith fussed. “What do you think, coz?”
Renie stared at the ground. “It looks pretty chewed up to me. And what would it prove? Anybody could have come out here and stomped around by the den.”
“Anybody could, but I don’t think everybody did, except the bricklayers—and the killer. You’re right, though—the impressions are too muddled.” She plunged into the flower bed, then began to gauge the level of the bookcase inside.
“We should have turned the lights on in the den,” Judith said, vexed with herself for not thinking of it beforehand. “What little sun is left is on the western side of the house.”
But to her surprise, the first brick she touched felt loose. She jiggled it repeatedly. At last she freed it enough to be able to pull it away from the wall of the house. The surrounding bricks, four in all, also came out without much effort. Judith peered through the opening. She couldn’t see a thing.
“I’ll have to feel my way,” she murmured, reaching through the wall.
She only had to go as far as her elbow. Her fingers touched the spine of a book, which moved easily. She pushed. The volume fell off the shelf and, presumably, onto the floor behind Uncle Boo’s chair. The light from the den allowed Judith to see the opening in the den’s wall and the bookcase itself.
“Look, coz,” she said excitedly as she stood aside to make room for Renie. “Somebody’s cut a hole about four inches in diameter. It must be at eye level with Boo’s head. Can you see the chair?”
“No,” Renie answered, straightening up. “All I see is the door to the den. But that would figure, wouldn’t it? If we could see the chair, it would’ve blocked the killer’s view.” She shivered as she stepped back onto the grass. “Ugh, it’s awful thinking about somebody going to all this trouble to shoot poor old Uncle Boo.”
Judith, however, wore a calculating expression. “It’s not so much work. The inner wall and insulation had been removed already. It was just a matter of taking out a few bricks and cutting a hole in the den and the bookcase. The only problem would be making sure the shot was in line with Boo’s head.” Abruptly, she shook herself. “You’re right, it is awful. But it’s pretty darned clever.”
To Renie’s surprise, Judith went back to inspecting the opening in the wall. “We need a flashlight,” she said, then changed her mind. “Nix. We need a mason. I don’t think we can use a flashlight at that angle.” She patted the remaining bricks. “The bottom part of this wall is going to have to come out.”
“Why?” asked Renie, looking puzzled.
“Because that’s where the casing is. Maybe the silencer, too.” Judith started back for the garage. “Let’s check the den and see where that book landed.”
The Rolls and the Ford looked lonely without the Cadillac to keep them company. On the opposite wall, the safe still stood open, like a naked wound. Judith paused in mid-step, causing Renie to stumble.
“What now?” Renie inquired in a resigned voice.
Judith continued to stare at the safe. “I’m not sure,” she replied slowly. “But I think I may have figured out who took the jewels and where they’re hidden.”
“Oh, jeez!” Renie exclaimed. “Dare I ask how?”
Judith was smiling, albeit a bit tensely. “It’s a guess, you understand.”
“Sure, sure.” Renie followed her cousin into the house. “My only consolation is that sometime your guesses are a crock of bull.”
In the entry hall, Judith glanced at Renie over her shoulder. Her black eyes danced. “Not a crock—a gator. Think about it, coz. And remember Auntie Vance.”
SEVENTEEN
THE WILL ROGERS biography had fallen directly behind Uncle Boo’s chair. The cousins couldn’t be sure, but they seemed to recall Derek picking it up from approximately the same place.
“Now,” said Judith, dusting off her hands, which had become grimy from working with the wall, “we need to distinguish the gunshot with the silencer from the exploding cigar.”
“We’ve been over all that,” Renie said, growing impatient. “I want to hear more about Auntie Vance and the alligator.”
But Judith waved a hand. “In a minute. This part is really important. Think, coz. It could tell us who killed Uncle Boo. And the Mayor’s cousin.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Renie said, moving restlessly around the den. “If the building inspector disappeared on Thursday, that limits the suspects. Were any of them here that day?”
Judith sat on the edge of the desk. “I’ve thought about that. I really don’t know, but I’d guess Toadie came by to get things ready for the party. Maybe Trixie, too. Jill was in and out quite a bit, as we now know. Vivvie was keeping her hooks into Boo. Derek might have stopped by to arrange for the delivery of the big TV set. And if there were errands to run, Holly would have been sent to fetch and carry. The only unlikely suspect is Mason Meade. I can’t see any reason for him being here—unless he came with Trixie.”
“We can check on all of that with Mrs. Wakefield,” Renie said, beginning to relax a little. “She must have seen the building inspector, too.”
“Yes,” Judith said thoughtfully. “So she must. I wonder when she’ll be back.”
Voices could be heard in the entry hall. Judith dashed to the door. Jack Althaus and the other two policemen were about to leave. Wearing her most appealing expression, Judith approached Althaus.
“If you’d do me a big favor, I’ll show you something interesting.” She almost gagged at the coy sound of her own voice.
He looked puzzled. “Like what, Mrs. Flynn?”
She explained about the necessity of reaching Hillside Manor. To her amazement, he readily agreed to contact the B&B and relay her urgent message. Encouraged by his response, she also asked if
he’d check in with the AAA and find out what was causing the delay in the arrival of the tow truck. Again the young detective said he’d be glad to comply.
Keeping up her end of the bargain, Judith led Althaus and the others outside to her car. She opened the trunk and presented the Walther P-38. Althaus was amazed.
“That’s excellent,” he enthused, then gave orders to one of the other men to get an evidence bag. “Where did you find it?”
She explained about searching in the recessed garbage cans. “I intended to hand it over to my husband, but he…ah…left in such a hurry that I forgot.”
He gave her a dubious look, but made no comment. The evidence bag arrived and the handgun was duly placed inside. Judith was about to reveal her most recent discovery in the wall of the house when Althaus uttered another command to his subordinates:
“Make sure Detective Doerflinger gets the weapon as soon as possible. In fact, call in and tell him you’re on the way.”
“But,” Judith began in confusion, “what about Detective Flynn?”
Althaus frowned. “Flynn? But this isn’t his case. Not officially. He’s on the missing-persons investigation.”
“But the missing-person isn’t missing—he’s dead and probably shot with that gun,” she protested.
The plainclothesman shrugged and offered her a lame smile. “Let’s talk turf, Mrs. Flynn. Originally, this was Doerflinger’s case. It still is. It’s just a really strange coincidence that both investigations dovetailed. Oh, we’ll get it sorted out down at headquarters. Meantime, I’ll make those calls for you. So long.”
Althaus and the others left. Angrily, Judith slammed the trunk of her car. “Damn! Now Joe will really be furious! But it’s his own fault, for being such a pill!” She marched back across the street, going straight to the wall of the den. “I’m putting these damned bricks back until we get somebody to go inside and find the rest of the evidence.”
“The silencer and the casing? Or a stray alligator?” Renie inquired, watching Judith replace the missing bricks. Her tone indicated she thought her cousin might be taking things for granted.