by Mary Daheim
“Not funny,” Judith said.
“Hey—I’m not kidding. Years ago I designed an employee benefits guide for the phone company. The insured got so much for losing a finger, so much for an arm, a leg, a—”
“Stop. I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Losing your mind wasn’t included in the dismemberment section.”
Judith glowered at her cousin. “I’m losing my temper. Do you want to lose consciousness?”
Renie shut up.
“The term policy,” Judith said after a long pause, “is five mil, beneficiary, Richard Elmo Weevil.” She frowned. “Willie’s son?”
Renie shrugged. “How would I know?”
“Ricky,” Judith murmured. “Justin’s mentioned him, but not favorably. Ricky’s a jerk, according to his cousin.” She stared hard at Renie. “There are times when cousins feel that way about each other.”
Renie stared right back. “Indeed.”
Judith was puzzled. “If Willie died five years ago, Ricky would’ve gotten five million dollars.”
“What do you mean? Ricky received the money when Willie died, but nobody else knew he was dead?”
Judith looked confused. “No…I mean…” She shook her head. “I understand what you’re saying. If Willie died back then, but was supposed to be alive until this afternoon, the policy would never have been paid to Ricky. This sheds new light on things, doesn’t it?”
“In a dim and mystifying way,” Renie conceded. “How do we know if Ricky collected the money?”
“We don’t.” Judith’s eyes were fixed on the first page of the policy. “Why would anyone carry this paperwork around if the insured is already dead?”
Renie’s expression was wry. “I’ll bet you have a few ideas.”
“They’re off the wall,” Judith said, gazing out into the pitch-black night. No longer could she see a building, a light, a car, or any sign of life. “If I’m right about the truck driver racing the train, then this whole situation has been a setup. But why? And where did it all begin?”
Renie scowled. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Neither do I,” Judith said. “What’s the point of keeping insurance policies after the person dies? If Willie has been dead for five years, did Ricky Weevil collect? He must know the truth.”
“They sound like a fractured family. Are you sure Ricky’s alive?”
“Justin would’ve mentioned if he wasn’t,” Judith said. “They were about the same age. There were a couple of other children from Willie’s second marriage, but I think they’re girls. Justin’s never talked about them much.”
“How many times was Willie married?” Renie asked.
“Twice?” Judith guessed. “Or maybe a longtime live-in girl friend.” She uttered a rueful laugh. “I assumed it was Pepper.”
“You don’t think so now?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Judith reached into her purse and took out the camera.
“Let’s figure out how to view these photos.” She removed the damp tissues and put them in the waste receptacle. “Here,” she said, handing the camera to Renie. “You’ve worked with photographers who use cameras like this.”
Renie’s jaw dropped. “Are you nuts? That’s why I work with photographers. You know I can’t operate high-tech gizmos.”
“Poke something. There’s a little screen.”
“Oh…” Renie turned the camera over and pressed a button.
“It’s a front view of your house. You’re standing on the walk, looking up.”
“Let me see.” Judith studied the frame. “Yes, I was trying to dissuade Willie from jumping out of the window.” She poked the button. “Here he is, landing in the rhododendron bush.” She moved on to the next picture. “I’m arguing with Willie—I call him that because I don’t know him by any other name.”
“Understood,” Renie said, getting up to move so she could look over Judith’s shoulder. “There’s Willie rushing off. Did you scare him?”
“No. That’s when he ran up and down the Counterbalance. Joe saw him doing it. Here’s Arlene talking to me.” She looked at Renie. “Who took these? Wayne didn’t show up until later.”
“Why take the pictures at all?” Renie asked. “The only reason I can think of is that it shows Willie’s first jump.”
“I agree. Let’s see what’s next.”
The next photos started with Judith and Phyliss arguing on the back porch; Phyliss making the sign against the evil eye behind her back; Gertrude wheeling herself out of the toolshed; and an angry, red-faced Joe in profile. “Joe’s warning Willie not to jump,” Judith said before pointing to the shot showing Willie about to take off. “There’s Mother again, looking fit to spit.”
“Gee,” Renie said, “I’m sorry I missed all this.”
“I’ll bet.” Judith pressed the button again. “Ah! See—Willie’s sailing through space. Oh, dear—here’s his crash landing.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder. “It’s really kind of awful.”
“Right.” Renie’s sounded unsympathetic.
“Wayne’s trying to help Willie, but Joe tells him to back off because he could do more harm than good. That’s after Joe called 911.”
“Stop,” Renie said. “Go back a few frames.”
Judith had no problem reversing the process. “How far?”
“Right there,” Renie replied. “Look at Willie’s face before he jumps. He seems scared. Also, note the leaves in the air. Was it windy?”
“Yes,” Judith said. “A big gust came along just as Willie jumped, sending him off course, so that he landed in the pyracantha instead of the lily-of-the-valley bush.” She peered more closely at the picture. “He does look startled.”
“Check out the next two shots after he lands. Not,” Renie went on, “at Willie and Wayne and Joe, but to the left at the back door. That’s not Phyliss—she’s standing on the porch steps almost out of the frame.”
“You’re right,” Judith said. “That red hair belongs to Pepper.”
“That’s not all,” Renie said. “Go back to Joe before the jump, where he looks irate. It’s a profile. Now look again at the three guys by the bush. What’s wrong with this picture?”
Judith frowned as she studied the frame. “If you mean how Willie’s grimacing and grinding his teeth in pain or Pepper knowing something bad has—oh! I get it. Wayne has the camera around his neck, so he didn’t take these pictures.”
“That’s not all,” Renie said. “This shot had to be taken from at least thirty feet away to get the area from the driveway to the back door.”
Judith was mystified. “The only person who was further back in the yard was Mother. She hasn’t used a camera since her old Kodak got run over by our Model A Ford during World War Two.”
Renie nodded. “Wayne’s camera is probably very good, but he didn’t use this one to take these pictures. Let’s see the rest.”
The next two frames showed Judith heading into the house, followed by a shot of Wayne and Joe looking at Willie, who was still entangled in the bush.
“That’s it,” Renie said. “Whoever took the photos stopped here. There could be a hundred or more unused frames in the camera.”
Judith didn’t respond at once. “I’m trying to piece together what happened after the EMTs arrived, but I’m muddled. It was a bad day.”
Renie sat in her chair. “What happened after you went inside?” Judith sighed. “I had a headache from all the commotion. I wanted to avoid the EMTs. I recall wondering where Pepper was and how she could miss the chaos. She wasn’t in the kitchen, but she must’ve been there a few moments earlier since she’s at the back door in the shot after Willie took his dive.”
“When did she confront you?”
Judith recalled taking Excedrin, but blanked out on what came next. “I didn’t see Pepper until after the EMTs arrived. She must’ve gone outside to see what happened and talked to the medics because she knew Willie had broken his leg and his arm. She didn�
��t come from the kitchen or I’d have seen her when I came indoors. Maybe she used the front door or the French doors off the living room.” She made a helpless gesture. “I can’t remember.”
Renie laughed. “You’re a good sleuth, but a damned poor witness.”
“You don’t need to mention that,” Judith said ruefully, and paused to concentrate. “I heard sirens and then saw the medics approaching. I couldn’t bear facing them for the umpteenth time, so I went into the parlor and watched from the window as they pulled in.”
“Very good, coz.” Renie’s ironic expression changed abruptly.
“Wait—you saw and heard the EMTs? Where were you before you went into the parlor? You couldn’t see them from the kitchen.”
Judith clapped a hand to her forehead. “Good grief! That’s the part I forgot. I was on the front porch. Those girls—Maddie and Tiff—came to ask about Herself’s rental. I sent them to see Arlene. After they left, I rearranged some of my holiday decorations that had gotten blown over by the wind.”
“Well, well.” Renie’s brown eyes twinkled. “The missing links.”
“But where do they fit in?” Judith asked, leaning forward and lowering her voice.
“When we were downstairs a few minutes ago, what did they say about wishing they hadn’t gotten involved with…a man?”
“I don’t recall the exact words,” Renie admitted. “They alluded to a man, but it was more like…how to deal with him?”
“Maybe.” Judith paused. “Can you remove those pictures?”
“Ah…” Renie grimaced. “It’s a memory card. You can take it out, but we can’t look at the pictures without a computer.”
“Doesn’t matter. I want to return the camera to its rightful owners—assuming it belongs to Tiff and Maddie.”
“And you will next say, ‘There’s only one way to find out.’” Judith nodded. “They must still be downstairs. We haven’t heard anybody in the corridor since we got back here.”
“Okay,” Renie agreed reluctantly. “Shall I remove the card?”
“Yes.”
“Hoo boy,” Renie said under her breath. “This could be ugly.”
“I trust you,” Judith assured her. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Renie shot her cousin a withering glance. “Let’s put it this way—the damned thing probably won’t explode and kill us.”
While Renie fiddled with the camera, Judith tried to organize her thoughts. She felt as if her brain was working on overload. There was Pepper, who might know the bogus Willie’s identity and explain why she had an insurance policy on a dead man. There were Dick and Jane Z, who seemed to have abducted the elderly Gundys. There were the Cowboy Hats, with Mr. Hat apparently morphing into someone else after getting off the train to smoke. There was Wayne Fielding, who might or might not be who and what he claimed to be. And there was the missing truck driver, who could be anyone, anywhere.
“Got it!” Renie exclaimed, holding up a small computer memory card. “Where do you want to put it?”
“My purse,” Judith said. “If the camera belongs to Maddie and Tiff, how could they take the pictures and not be seen?”
“Easy,” Renie responded. “A telephoto lens. They might’ve shot the front of the house from a car by the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Out back, your yard slopes up the hillside. You’ve got all kinds of shrubs and bushes there, just like we do. I trim our evergreens by using them for Christmas decorations.”
“Pruning’s an endless job,” Judith said. “I enjoy gardening, but it’s hard for me to…” She stared at Renie. “Maybe Mother isn’t crazy.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“She called Willie Santa Claus because he was by the chimney wearing a red jumpsuit,” Judith explained. “She also mentioned Santa’s elves. Thinking back, I visualized Maddie and Tiff. They were wearing red and green jackets—Christmas colors. Remember when we took our kids to see Santa? His helpers were always pretty girls dressed as elves.”
“Sure. One Santa was a lecher who got too chummy with our Anne. Of course, she was seventeen and drop-dead gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”
“When did your thirtysomething offspring stop believing in Santa?”
Renie looked affronted. “Who told you they stopped?”
“Forget it,” Judith said, with a pitying expression. “Okay, Maddie and Tiff probably took the photos.” She stood up. “Let’s go see them.”
Two minutes later the cousins were at Maddie and Tiff’s roomette door. Renie had volunteered to take the lead, assuming that the young women wouldn’t recognize her voice. She rapped twice on the door.
“Yes?” The response was unidentifiable.
Renie looked inquiringly at Judith, who shrugged.
“Tiff? Maddie?” Renie said in an unnaturally chipper voice.
“It’s Mrs. Jones. I have good news.”
“What is it?” the voice asked warily.
Renie looked at Judith, who mouthed, “Maddie.”
“It’s a surprise,” Renie said. “Think Nordquist, Choo shoes.” After a brief pause, Maddie opened the door. Her blue eyes sparkled until she saw Judith behind Renie.
“What is this?” the young woman demanded. “I don’t see any Jimmy Choo shoes from Nordquist.”
Renie managed to sidle inside the roomette, leaving room for Judith to follow her lead. “Jimmy Choo?” Renie said in surprise. “You must not have heard correctly. Choo-choo, as in train, Nordquist’s shoe department, as in where you claim you saw Mrs. Flynn. But,” she went on, ignoring the suspicious look on the faces of both Maddie and Tiff, “we do have a surprise. Show them, coz.”
Judith slowly removed the camera from her purse. “I believe you left this at Mrs. Rankers’s house.”
Tiff actually recoiled. “Mrs. Who?”
“The mother of the rental agent who’s handling the house in the cul-de-sac by my B&B,” Judith explained calmly.
“Awesome!” Maddie cried, snatching the camera from Judith. “I never thought we’d see this again.” She looked at Tiff, who seemed bewildered.
“Don’t you remember how we thought we’d left it in the restroom on the ferry?”
Tiff forced a laugh. “Yes, yes. I completely forgot we’d planned on taking pictures of the rental, but Mrs…. Rankers told us to wait for her daughter.”
“We couldn’t,” Maddie babbled on, “because we were meeting a high-school chum for dinner.” She looked again at Judith. “Our trip was so hectic. There wasn’t time to squeeze everything in. Thanks so much. Come on, Tiff. Let’s get a drink and look at our pictures in the dome car. We saw so many great sights during our visit that I’ve forgotten what we photographed.”
The cousins blocked the young women’s exit. “Sounds like fun,” Renie said, nudging Judith. “Why don’t we join these girls to get an idea of how tourists view our fair city?”
“That’s a great idea!” Judith exclaimed. “I hear some B&B guests’ reactions, but often they check out before we can really chat.”
Renie sketched a little bow for the young women. “After you.” Maddie and Tiff looked as if they’d been invited by Nero to face off with a bunch of hungry lions.
“What’s wrong?” Judith asked, feigning concern.
“Nothing,” Maddie said.
“Everything,” Tiff said at the same time.
The young women exchanged glances. Maddie forced a giggle.
“We took some…weird pictures. I mean…goofing off, and then there was this guy we met and…” She made a face. “One thing led to another. You know how it is.”
“Huh,” Renie said. “I’m too old to remember.” She turned to Judith. “Let’s relive our misspent youth with these frisky chicks.”
“Good idea,” Judith agreed. “Let’s do it.”
Any trace of Maddie’s insouciance disappeared. “No,” she said, putting the camera behind her back. “We’re not sharing personal pictures with people we don’t
know.” She looked at Tiff. “We’ll go through the photos here, okay?”
The other young woman’s angular features had hardened. “That’s right.” Her coal-black eyes looked threatening. “You’d better go now.”
Sensing her cousin’s bellicose reaction, Judith spoke quickly. “Fine. We just thought it might be fun. See you.” She turned around and started down the corridor to the stairs. Renie followed a moment later, but neither of them spoke until they were back in their own room and had closed the door.
Renie and Judith sat down. “I waited to see if they shut their door,” Renie said. “They sure did, and damned near caught my rear end with it.”
Judith nodded. “I figured they’d do that.”
“You changed tactics,” Renie said. “I thought we were going to watch them open the camera and discover the missing memory card.”
“Not a good idea after all,” Judith said, shifting around in her chair to get comfortable.
“When they started to balk, I realized that wasn’t necessary. The original point of our visit was to make sure the camera belonged to Maddie and Tiff. If they try to look at the photos, they’ll realize the memory card’s gone and assume we took it. Or,” she added slyly, “they may not.”
Renie frowned. “Who’d want the photos? They were in your suitcase.”
“But who put the camera there? Maddie and Tiff weren’t surprised we had it, so they knew it was missing. The thief ditched it in my luggage. We now wait for their next move.”
As the train crept along, Renie gazed out the window into the deep, vast darkness. “I sense you know why those girls took the photos. Connecting the dots, we might assume that the man they referred to when we overheard them in the corridor might be the link. Maybe he stole the camera.”
“It’s possible,” Judith replied, “but I’m considering that the man asked them to take the photos. If so, all he had to do was get it back from them. That brings up another point. So why didn’t Maddie and Tiff deliver the camera before boarding the train? Was it because the man wasn’t in town? Maybe he got on later. That leaves out Pepper, Wayne, and the bogus Willie.”
“What about the Zs?”
“They claim they drove out of town to go through the mountains, which means they would’ve gotten on the train around midnight when the Cowboy Hats did.” Judith made a face. “Yet the Cowboy Hats and the Zs didn’t act as if they knew each other when we saw them at the same table this evening.”