by Marja McGraw
“That was Charles Blakely,” I said.
“Yes, yes. That was Charles alright. I remember him now. Nice guy.”
“Do you recognize any of the others?” I pointed to the other photos.
“Well, of course, this one is Chance and Alice.” He turned his head slightly to the right and squinted, as though trying to conjure up a memory. Shaking his head, he turned to the last photo.
“Do you know who that is?” I asked.
He squinted again and took a close look. “Yes. That’s the fellow who came in and had an argument with Chance.”
“Do you mean Sam Shipley?”
“I do. That’s Sam. I’m surprised at the memories that come flooding back just from looking at these pictures. My, my. Those were the days.”
“Hey, Jim, are you gonna play the game or not?” Shelly called.
“I’ll be right there.” He sounded irritated.
“Well, you go play cards, and if you remember what was bothering you, would you let me know?” I wrote down my phone number and handed it to him.
“I will. I’ll think on it real hard.”
“Now I’m off to see Chance.”
Shelly spoke up. “Chance is gone again. She went out with that nephew of hers about an hour ago.”
That annoyed me. She knew I was coming over to get Alice’s phone number and address from her.
“I don’t suppose you’d know when she’s due back?”
“Nope. But I wouldn’t look for her anytime soon. She had on her good goin’-to-town clothes. When she wears those, she usually don’t come back until late. For an old lady, she’s got plenty of energy.”
“A lot more than you,” Stuart said, looking at his cards and pointedly not looking in Shelly’s direction.
I thanked Shelly, Stuart and Jim and told them I’d be back on Saturday. If things went right, I’d play a couple of hands of poker with them.
They waved over their shoulders as I left the recreation room.
Just to be on the safe side, I walked over and knocked on Chance’s door. No answer. I turned and headed for my car, feeling almost, but not quite, like I’d wasted my time. At least Jim had confirmed a few things for me.
While I drove home, I thought about the look on his face when he looked at the pictures. Was I imagining things or could it have been a look of alarm or fear on his face? Fear of what? Being caught? Maybe I’d better mention him to Janet. She could look into his background. He had known Sam Shipley and Charles Blakely, although initially he’d told me he didn’t know Charles. Could he have another one of those selective memories, like Chance?
Chris’s car wasn’t in the driveway when I arrived home. I hoped he’d be back soon, because I wanted to talk to him.
At the moment I couldn’t help but feel like the nineteen-forties were just a hotbed of weirdness. Nice guys, scary guys, men who pretended to fight, cute little ladies, and women who thought all men were at their beck and call. And two dead bodies. Just plain weirdness. Maybe the “now” wasn’t so bad after all.
Nowadays people just pulled out a gun, shot you and ran. There was something really devious about the crimes we were looking at. Someone had murdered two men and hidden the bodies, and they’d almost gotten away with it. Since some of the players were already dead, maybe someone did get away with it.
And who’d broken into our house? The only one who seemed young enough to do it out of this crowd would be John. John? No, I didn’t believe that for a second.
I heard Chris pull into the driveway and walked out to meet him. I spilled my guts, telling him everything I’d been thinking. By the time we got to the front door, he was laughing.
“Pamela, slow down. I’ve been thinking, too. We’ll do some more research, you’ll get the number for Alice from Chance, and we’ll call her and talk to her. We’ll put all the facts together, and we’ll come up with a likely suspect. We’ve been making this too hard. It’ll actually, probably, turn out to be fairly simple.”
“Yeah,” I said, “we can narrow this down. Who knows? Maybe it’ll turn out that Dapper Dan was the killer. He knew both of them.” Talk about grasping at straws…
We walked inside and I noticed the light flashing on the answering machine. I pushed the button and heard my son say that he was having a good time, but he missed us all the same. Then he giggled at something Grandma Linda told him and said he’s see us in a few days. And, oh yeah, he’d already caught a fish. They were going to eat it for dinner.
There was another message, and it was from Janet. She confirmed that the second body was that of Sam Shipley, just as she’d thought.
Chris and I had a light dinner that night, if you consider shrimp salad, corn on the cob and garlic bread light. After dinner we sat at the kitchen table and discussed the case. While we talked, I took notes so we wouldn’t forget anything.
“I can’t explain it,” Chris said, “but I have a feeling Alice is the key to this whole mess. When are you going to see Chance again?”
“First thing in the morning. I’m going to call her and make sure she’s going to be there this time. She really is a very thoughtless woman.”
“I know, and you don’t like thoughtless women. Maybe her forgetfulness isn’t an act. Maybe we’ve just been fortunate enough to catch her on a few of her good days. We haven’t met with her that many times.” That was my Bogey Man, the optimist.
“Who broke into our house?” I asked, starting to verbalize the things on my mind. “Why did Jim look so odd when he studied those photos? Why would anyone want to kill Charles and Sam? What’s Alice’s connection to the crimes? As far as that goes, what’s Chance’s connection? We never did get to talk to Dudley. Could he have been the killer? Dan knew all of them. Could he have some connection?”
“That’s a stretch,” Chris said.
“I know, but still, he knew everyone. We can’t cross anyone off the list yet.”
“I think the motive is the key, babe. We need to brainstorm and come up with the reason for the murders. We know there were intricate relationships at the boarding house. Three men and two women. There were two different types of jealousies – ”
“Yes. One involving the two women and the men, and the one between the two women. I’m kind of surprised that Chance and Alice are still in touch. Chance doesn’t seem like the forgiving type to me.”
“I don’t think she is,” Chris said, “but I think theirs was a complicated friendship. I don’t think Chance ever had any other female friends. Maybe she figured Alice was better than no friend at all.”
“You could be right.”
“We can talk until we’re blue in the face, but we’re not going to accomplish much until we talk to Alice. We need more facts.”
I sighed. “Let’s go to bed and sleep on it. Maybe one of us will have an epiphany during the night.”
“Yeah, right.” Chris stood up and took my hands, pulling me up with him. “Mikey is out of town. We’re here by ourselves. Forget epiphanies and forget sleep. Let’s just go to bed.”
He gave me his best Bogey smile and winked.
“Oh, baby,” I said. “There’s a lot to be said for grandparents and camping trips.”
***
Waiting to call Chance was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but I didn’t want to wake her up and take a chance on upsetting her. I held off until nine o’clock and then I couldn’t help myself. I picked up the receiver and punched her number in.
“Hello? Who is it?” she asked, answering the phone.
“It’s Pamela.”
“Oh, it’s you. You were supposed to come over yesterday,” she said, putting me on the defensive.
“I did, but you weren’t home,” I said, throwing it right back at her.
“Then I guess you didn’t come early enough, did you?”
“Are you going to be home today?” I asked.
“Most of the day.”
“Okay, what time do you want me to come over?”<
br />
She was quiet for a moment. “Come at noon. You can eat lunch with me.”
“I’ll be there at noon,” I replied. “Chance, I’m not trying to upset you, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I just get really cranky sometimes. I can’t help myself. I guess it’s my age.”
“Well, lunch sounds nice. Can I bring anything?”
“No, just yourself. But try to be on time, will you?”
“Noon. I’ll be there at the stroke of twelve.”
“Good,” Chance said.
“Good,” I said just before I pushed the off button.
Chris came in from the yard, where he’d been alternately playing with the dogs and cleaning up their messes. “Did you call Chance yet?”
“I did, and I’m going to have lunch with her. She sounded almost normal today. Maybe we’ll get along for a change.”
I scooped up the photographs to take with me and something caught my eye. As with Jim, it flew in one side of my brain and out the other side so fast that I couldn’t figure out what had caught my attention. I set the photos down again, but I couldn’t see anything unusual, other than two men pretending to fight. I rolled my eyes, thinking that maybe I was aging prematurely.
I had some time on my hands so I helped Chris work in the yard for a while before changing my clothes to go to Chance’s.
By the time I changed clothes, Chris had finished his work and settled at the table in the kitchen. When I entered the kitchen, he stood and came to stand by me. Nudging me, he said, “How’d you enjoy yourself last might, shweetheart?”
“Bogey Man, you sure know how to show a dollface a good time.”
Chris kissed me on the forehead. “I aim to please.”
With a smile on my face, I picked up the photographs and left for Chance’s apartment, determined to get along with her for once. I was also determined to find some answers, whether from her, or later from Alice.
Like my daddy used to say, be careful what you wish for.
Chapter Thirty-five
Chance was waiting at the door for me when I arrived.
“Come on in,” she invited. “I’m just about to start lunch.”
“Before lunch, would you look at some photographs? I visited Dapper Dan’s, or Daniel’s as it’s now called, and the owner turned out to be the granddaughter of the man who owned it when you and Alice used to sing there. She had an album of pictures from the old days. There’s even one of you and Alice.”
Chance’s lips tightened as though the mention of Alice’s name upset her. I wondered what her reaction would be when she looked at the photo, and I still wondered why these two women would keep in touch if Chance disliked Alice so much.
“Well?” she asked impatiently, sitting down on the couch.
Sitting in the chair directly across from her, I pulled the photos out and, reaching over, laid them on her lap. I wanted to be in a position to see her reaction to them. I could also see what she was looking at as she picked up each one.
The first photo was Sam Shipley. She frowned before her face morphed into anger. She quickly set it aside without any comment.
The second one was the staged fight. I could see her studying each face. She looked puzzled and finally looked up at me.
“You know, I think one of these men actually lives here. I see Charles and Dudley, and this one other man looks familiar. I think he’s one of those lousy poker players from the activity room.” Her eyes narrowed and she glanced off to the side.
“You could be mistaken,” I said. Jim didn’t need Chance figuring out who he was and giving him a bad time. What was I thinking? If Jim was the killer, then I wanted Chance’s input about him. “On the other hand, you could be right.”
She turned her gaze back to me, one eye half closed and the other wide open. “Yes, indeed, I do remember this man. He had it bad for Alice, but she wouldn’t even give him the time of day.”
That was news to me. I vaguely recalled him saying something about liking Chance, but I didn’t remember him saying he liked Alice.
Chance tossed the photo aside, on top of the one of Shipley, and studied the one of her and Alice. Her face was a study in mixed emotions. She almost smiled, but changed it to a frown in a heartbeat. The longer she looked at herself and Alice, the sadder her expression became. And without warning, she stood up and threw the picture down in anger.
“What is it Chance?” I asked.
“You should know,” she replied. “I used to be young and beautiful. Now I’m old and wrinkled. I don’t like what I’ve turned into.”
I was shocked. Of all the things she could have said, this wasn’t what I expected – and at the same time it didn’t surprise me.
“You’re still beautiful, Chance. It’s hard to even think of you as old.” Uh huh. Yeah, right.
I could see her anger turn into pleasure. “Really?” She turned her head to the side and tipped her chin down, and her eyes found mine, almost flirtatiously.
If she hadn’t been looking at me, I would have rolled my eyes.
She sat back down and picked up the photos again. “This one is Sam Shipley. He’s the one I told you about that used to scare me. Look at that ugly puss of his.”
She handed me the photo, and I nodded, letting her think I agreed with her. I handed it back to her. From what I’d been able to gather, Sam was actually a nice guy. Maybe he didn’t like Chance’s affection for herself. I know it got on my nerves.
“These men were quite something. Charles was a nice man, but he couldn’t seem to get over me. Now that’s kind of silly because I never led him on. I let him know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t what I was looking for in a man.”
“What were you looking for?” I asked.
“Never you mind. Those days are gone and best forgotten.” Chance clamped her lips together, letting me know she had nothing else to say on the subject.
“I know that when I met Chris, it just happened. I wasn’t even looking for someone to love. But there he was, in his vintage suit and fedora hat. I felt like I’d known him all my life.” I felt like I needed to keep the conversation going.
“If I were younger, you’d have to fight me off to keep Chris.”
I was dumfounded. What’s the matter with this woman? I thought.
My face must have given me away, because Chance said, “I was only joking. I wouldn’t try to steal your man away from you.”
“I hope not.”
She laughed, but it wasn’t a sweet sound, as she picked up the picture of her and Alice. “Now this is a woman I wouldn’t have made friends with if I’d known what she was like. She wanted everything I had; my money, my men, and even my home. She wanted a free ride through our friendship. If I bought a new white dress, then she wanted a new white dress. But she couldn’t have it all. It was mine.”
“Well, she wasn’t rich,” I said. “Maybe she couldn’t afford things like you could. I was a single mom before I met Chris, and I know what it’s like to pinch those pennies. It must have been difficult for her to watch you spending money when she knew she couldn’t have the same things.”
Chance gave me a derisive look and didn’t respond.
“It was just a thought,” I said.
Chance looked at the picture. “You read what Dan wrote, didn’t you? ‘Our Songbirds, Chance and Alice. Sweeter Voices Were Never Heard.’” She tried to throw the picture across the room, but it was so light that it just floated to the floor.
The jealousies obviously ran deeper than I’d imagined.
“Singing was the one thing I did that she could use against me. She could sing, too, and she tried to turn it into a competition. The night I went to Dapper Dan’s and found her singing, she was even wearing a dress of mine. Of course, it didn’t fit her and she looked like an idiot, but the fact remained that it was my dress.”
I thought if Chance was standing, she’d stamp her foot in anger.
“Dan wouldn’t believe me when I told him I wouldn�
�t sing there anymore if Alice sang, too. I showed him though. I left and never went back. And you know what?”
“What?”
“Alice left, too, because the competition ended. So did the friendship.”
I was stunned at the feelings these women had for each other and the things they did to one another.
“Would you like to help me make lunch?” she asked. Chance’s voice was suddenly sweet, and the abrupt change of subject threw me.
“Sure. What can I do?”
“We’re having toasted cheese sandwiches. Why don’t you get out the bread and cheese and put them together while I start the pan heating?”
“I can do that. Do you use butter or mayonnaise on your sandwich?”
“Either one is fine with me.”
I followed Chance into her kitchen. There was barely room for one, much less two of us. I found the bread and cheese, and decided to use butter to brown the sandwiches. I could hear her behind me, pulling a frying pan out of the drawer at the bottom of the stove. It made a loud clunk when she set it on the stove. She was obviously still upset.
While I put the sandwiches together I thought about Alice. I really needed to talk to her and find out what her side of the story was. I didn’t altogether trust Chance and I knew in my heart that there was more to this than met the eye. And none it put me any closer to finding out who the killer was.
Turning around I saw that Chance still used a cast iron skillet. No wonder it had clunked. She’d already melted some butter in the pan so I set the sandwiches in it. She pulled a spatula out of the drawer and hummed while she waited to turn the sandwiches over.
“Was Alice really that bad?” I asked while we waited.
Chance pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and set them on the breakfast bar.
“Yes.”
“Tell me which cupboard the plates are in and I’ll set them on the bar,” I said.
She pointed at one of the cupboard doors.
With the sandwiches finally done, we sat down to eat lunch. I watched Chance’s hand shake when she picked up her sandwich. It must be difficult to age, I thought. Everything about our bodies changes.