by Lois Winston
Sophie keeps poking at me. I ignore her because I’m busy watching my step, so I don’t fall and break my neck while following and listening to Louie’s lecture. Finally, she pokes me hard. “Rats,” she hisses hysterically, “rats running all over the lawn! Over my feet!”
Louie is amused. “Those are cats. The mansion is famous for them. Polydactyl, six and seven-toe cats. There are approximately forty to fifty cats living here.”
Sophie clutches my arm. “That’s supposed to make feel better? I’m allergic! I wanna go back to the car.” She’s ready to scream. Ida puts her hand over Sophie’s mouth. “You are not allergic, so shut up and keep moving.”
“Okay,” she says.
Louie drones on. “The gardens are magnificent.”
Ida agrees, sarcastically, “Especially in the dark.”
Louie unlocks the front door. We enter the building. “I dassent turn on the lights, but if you look up, you’ll see one of the amazing chandelier collection. Well, you actually won’t see them too well.” Louie wiggles the flashlight beam from right to left. Yes, one could say there’s something on the ceiling that looks glittery.
Bella says, “I’m not looking up. There could be spiders.”
Louie and I decide to leave the nervous girls near the front door with one tiny light turned on and instructions not to touch anything. I muse, that they’ll hardly breathe, let alone touch.
He and I go upstairs to a special locked closet that Louie knows of. And in moments, we have Cuban cigars and a red bullfighter cape.
The girls can’t get out of there fast enough.
Smartypants Ida has to have the last word. “We can tell people we were in the Ernest Hemingway mansion, when there was a sudden eclipse of the sun. That’s why we never saw anything. Sounds believable?”
Louie promises to get the two items to Papa and I try to imagine how an invisible man will wear a cape and smoke a cigar.
FIFTEEN
Back at the Inn. Plans Made.
We are gathered in Evvie’s and my bedroom. Wearing pajamas and eating pizza bought at an all-night restaurant. Our nighttime activity gave the girls an appetite. Bella and Sophie are dressed in their twin bunny pajamas and look adorable. Ida is still in her nighttime black outdoor outfit. Just to be “ornery.”
Ida sums up. “Big waste of time. He got his cigars and shmata. We got a lot of nonsense.”
Bella, defensive, “Don’t call it a rag. His bullfight cape is an antique!”
Amazing, we’re talking about Papa, as if there really is this apparition that tells us he (it) was a witness to a murder. But what the heck? In for a penny, in for a pound.
Sophie comments between bites of her pepperoni pizza, “Ida is right. So, where’s our proof? A trade is a trade.”
Evvie waves her notebook. “Somewhere in this gibberish. Amid the love poems.”
I get it! I really do. “He told us what we need to know, but he’s making us work for it. Evvie, read the part about the pudding.”
Evvie finds it and reads, “The proof is in the pudding, the pudding is in the boat, the boat is in the key. The key is in the sunshine.”
The girls look dumbfounded. Ida, “That’s the clue?”
Evvie bounces up on her bed. “Now I get it, too.”
I say, “Take away the pudding, that’s him showing off, and read the words without.”
Evvie is excited. She reads, “The proof is in the boat, the boat in the key. The key is in the Sunshine. Sunshine Key! Remember I read about it in my tour book. So, the boat didn’t sink, as the police believe. And there is something in that boat that proves…”
I fill it in, “That he was killed by Love.”
Bella, confused. How can you be killed by love?”
You can if you are a lawyer named Albert Love. Of Strand, Smythe and Love. Lawyers who lie.
Silence, chewing, digesting and thinking.
“Wow!” says Sophie. We all have it at last.
Evvie, “So all we need is to find the boat and find the evidence.
Sophie, “We are so crazy, believing a ghost, but what have we got to lose.”
I add, “We need a boat, to find a boat.”
Ida, “What we really need is a group psychiatrist.”
Or maybe an exorcist.
SIXTEEN
An Odd Conversation at Sunday Brunch.
In the morning, bleary-eyed as we are because excitement didn’t let us get much sleep, we have a private chat with Teresa over a B&B special, a lovely breakfast of blueberry flapjacks, home-made syrup and grits. Though Ida wouldn’t try the grits. Why, because Ida is Ida. She’s never eaten grits, so she won’t try now.
It’s a tricky conversation because Teresa is sane and doesn’t believe in ghosts either.
“Let me get this straight. You need to borrow a boat to find the boat the Robert had been in when he died.”
“Yes,” I say cautiously, “We have a tip there is something important on that boat that would prove Robert’s death wasn’t accidental.” I sound loony even to myself.
“A tip,” she says, doubtfully. “And where does this tip come from?”
Evvie and I exchange glances. I say, cautiously, “From the Wassinger house.”
Teresa peers in each of our faces and reads us correctly. The less said the better.
“It could look like we’re just taking a boat ride on a nice summer day,” comments Ida, to my amazement. I was terrified she’d blow the whole thing and spills the beans. But she’s a loyal team player. “And if we just happen to discover a missing fishing boat at Sunshine Key, wouldn’t that be nice.”
Big sigh, then Teresa grins. “You win the award for strangest visitors this inn ever had. Or the most gullible. Five old ladies. Amazing.” She grins.
I say, “But we have a problem. We can’t take out a boat by ourselves, since none of know anything about sailing…”
Teresa stops me with a raised hand. “Be at the dock at noon, wearing what you think rational people wear on yachts.”
We are effusive with our thanks. She winks at me. Notice, there was not one word about ghosts mentioned.
SEVENTEEN
An Unusual Group of Boat People.
At noon we’re at the dock and waiting is a beautiful white ferryboat. The name on its side reads Rainbow Community and the deck is festooned with flags and balloons in many colors. Teresa’s nephew, Jin, is there to meet us and be our guide and helper. We almost don’t recognize him in his flashy outfit, a startlingly white pants suit, bell bottoms, with glittery multi-colored stripes. Is he wearing makeup? Yes, he is, and his hair in now in a bouffant style, sprinkled with gold dust. We try not to gape. We attempt to look sophisticated.
He informs us that this is a celebratory, private party for their successful musical; La Cage aux Folles, the show he mentioned at the inn. Seeing the surprise on the girls’ faces, he explains this is his costume; he is La Cagelles, a member of the chorus line.
As we climb up onto the ferry we are dazzled by all the vividly costumed cast members coming on board. Wild colors, wild plaids and checks, silk and satins, wild hairdos. So much for rational boat wear.
Jin tells us to help ourselves of food and drink, and he’ll find us when we reach Sunshine Key. He’s worked it out with the captain to take us there, not to worry.
“But won’t it spoil the party?” Evvie asks.
“By then, they’ll be climbing the walls and won’t care about anything but their next drink.”
“Have fun,” he says and waves as he leaves us on our own. To have fun on his own, I suspect.
We glance around. The girls are dumbfounded, staring at the costumes, hairstyles and makeup. And gasping at the feathers and spangles.
Bella points to a very tall person. “Is that a tall boy dressed as a tall girl?” she asks.
Sophie thinks, “It’s just a tall girl with too much makeup.”
Bella, “Boy.”
Sophie, “Girl. Kinda homely.”
Ida, “Give it a rest. They’re gay.”
Bella nods, “Yes, they do look very happy.”
Ida snorts, “Not gonna touch that with a ten-foot pole. I’m going to get one of those amazing tall drinks.” She dumps us.
The ferry leaves the dock. The music level climbs higher. Couples dance everywhere they find leg room. Girls dancing with girls, boys with girls, boys with boys, and so on.
Evvie and I snack on wonderful canapés we find on long tables covered with multi-colored tablecloths. Bella and Sophie reach for some water.
We watch the dancing for a while. It’s interesting to say the least, dancers are exhilarating and inventive.
Two guys pass us, sipping. “What are you drinking?”
His buddy (or girlfriend) says “An Ingrid Bergman.”
“Nice. I’m gonna stick to my Meemaw old fashioned.”
We stare. What, those are drinks?
Ida catches up to holding up a card. “Lookie, here are some choices of drinks we can have. Free! She reads, “Pisco Sour, Berry Bellini, Strawberry Swamp Water Octane. Mango Mimosa. And much more. I’m drinking some kind of Slurpee. I don’t what’s in it, but I’m feeling no pain.”
We pass. “I stick to my iced tea, says Bella.
“Is it regular iced tea or that Long Island iced tea? One of them is potent liquor.” Ida is the new bar maven.
Bella quickly discards her drink. She doesn’t want to know.
“There you are.” Jin catches up to us. “Come on to Captain Barnaby’s bridge. We have to keep an eye out for Robert’s boat. We’re nearing Sunrise Key. The boat must be hugging the shore somewhere. Or lodged on a rock.”
On the bridge, we lean over the rail, six sets of eyes, plus the captain’s crew, with binoculars, searching in all directions. For a while it seems like we’re on a pointless mission. We see nothing. Water, water everywhere. The boat must have sunk by now.
We can still barely hear the music from inside, but out here is rigid silence.
And more silence. I am afraid we face failure, but the kind captain doesn’t quit. The ferry moves slowly along the shore. More waiting. And more.
A shout and waving hand, pointing, one of the crew. And we see it. A crippled boat, rolling with the waves on a deserted beach.
The captain pulls us up close and stops the motor. We see what’s left of Robert’s boat; trash, a soaked jacket floating, fishing gear, everything a mess.
Dear Jin. He’s slipping on hip-high rubber boots. He wouldn’t think of any of us older ladies trying to climb into that wobbling piece of boat. He will clamber in and look for whatever he can find. Silly us. We never thought past finding the boat, let alone climbing into it. Not at our ages.
Some members of the Cage party come out of the ballroom, questioning. Why are we stopping and why here? This doesn’t look like Key Largo.
I tell them we are looking for a clue to a mystery and suddenly, we have a crowd of onlookers, buzzing with curiosity.
For a few moments, Jin digs around, looks up at us, shaking his head. But he doesn’t give up either.
Moments later, he holds something up. Aha. “It’s the plug.”
Sophie asks, “So what about it?”
He explains. “The plug is never pulled out unless necessary. Once the plug is out, the boat fills with water, and sinks, but this one must have caught on to something and didn’t totally sink. Lucky.” Jin says, modestly, “I do a bit of sailing myself.”
I ask, “Would a plug fall out by itself?”
“Not likely. I would guess someone pulled it out on purpose.”
“The purpose?”
“To sink the boat, no other reason.” Jin tries to talk low because others are listening. “Robert would never have pulled it out.”
“Someone else did?”
He nods meaningfully.
I am deflated. “Is this the clue? I expected more.”
Evvie. “The cops would suspect suicide.”
“Again, not likely.” Jin is rooting around the mucky bottom. “I think I’ve found something else.” Excited now. “It’s his iPhone.”
“What good is a wet phone?” Sophie is disappointed.
Jin says, “An iPhone with camera capabilities. Remember the selfie, he sent with the phone camera?”
Sophie, “With the big fish.”
Bella. “I’m still waiting for someone to tell me what a selfie is.”
Ida. “Keep waiting.”
Jin is hopeful. “Seems like here’s another photo he took of himself.” He is getting more and more excited. “The phone still works, unbelievable…a photo, one he didn’t know he photographed, or sent.” He stares at it, startled. “Or didn’t get a chance to send.”
We are so lucky that we have Jin, even if we were able to get into the boat and found the phone, we would not have known it also works as camera. When we get home, we’re going to have to catch up with the tech world.
Jin, eyes flashing with awe, quickly climbs out of the leaking boat. If he could jump for joy without falling into the ocean, he’d do it. “Look ladies, look at the photo he took but didn’t get to send! And one by one we see Albert Love leaning over Robert’s shoulder and stabbing him in the stomach as the loosened fishing rod with its attached Marlin drops away into the ocean.
“Now we have definite proof. Killed by Love,” I say in wonder.
The word is passed around. We’ve just uncovered a murder; done to a man they know by a man they also know. IPhones are clicking wildly, cast members photographing us. We’ll be famous on Facebook, heaven help us.
Captain Barnaby congratulates us. “Shall I turn my ship around and head for home?”
There is a rousing shout from the onlookers. “Let’s go back and seize the murderer!”
We are stunned. Only Papa knew. Only a ghost knew. If we hadn’t followed the information given by a fantastical specter, a death would not be avenged.
Who would have thunk?
EIGHTEEN
Return. About Time. Revenge Is Sweet.
This time we didn’t bother to make an appointment. We walked straight into police headquarters, heads held high. Photo in my clutched hand. Demanding to see Sgt. Barbara Ella, ignoring her last name.
She comes rushing out, emitting steam. “You crazy ladies again! How dare you waste my time again? Why don’t you go back to Kissimmee, or wherever you belong?”
Bella whispers. ‘Kissimmee. Where’s that?’
Evvie whispers back, “In Osceola County.”
Bella again, “Where’s that?’
“Sshh,’ hisses Ida. “You’ve been there.”
Bella. “I forget.”
“Fort Lauderdale, try to get it straight,” I say, furious. Sarcasm is now in our court. “Jin leYung sent us.”
“Jin sent you? What have you and my cousin have to do with one another?
Evvie, curious. “Jin is your cousin? You don’t look related.”
Hands on hips, Barbara is trying to push us the door. We don’t budge. “It’s a small town. “Lot of people are related. Don’t just stand there. Explain, then leave.”
“We don’t budge an inch until you look at this.” I shove the phone into her hand. Proof positive. “Death by ‘selfie?’ Remember?”
She turns various shades of red, then purple, then deathly pale.
“Where did you get this?”
“Out of Robert Strand’s missing fishing boat.” Oh, such glee we feel. Nothing’s more wonderful than being absolutely right.
She’s flummoxed, stuttering by now, unsure of what to ask next. “How could you get it out of his boat? How do you even know about a boat. A boat that sank.”
“The boat did not sink. Makes you cops look bad, don’t it. Did you even bother to search?” I imagine they did. Not very nice of me; I just enjoy rubbing it in. And the girls are pleased by my performance. “Our new best friend, Jin, climbed in and found the i
Phone with the selfie. And voila!” I’m now a tech expert, spouting as if I was born to scientific knowledge.
By now those condescending cops surround us. Barbara Ella, hands shaking, passes the photo around. And again, the amazement.
“Would you ladies like to sit down,” says one, deferential suddenly.
“Coffee, maybe,” from the other, another new fan.
For a moment I think of our Hy Binder back home getting revenge on us for treating him unkindly. I wonder if the girls are making the same connection.
I put the police out of their misery. “We had a tip from an unknown caller (a little fabrication here) that there was a big clue to be found in that boat. Jin took us on a party cruise ferry and we found it.”
“Just like that?” One of the cops.
Evvie can’t resist. “Only took brilliant investigating skills. Like that.”
My girls applaud.
Sgt. Barbara Ella is all a twitter. “We must get on this at once.”
“Not to be concerned, Barbie. Right now there are dozens of rather charmingly costumed recruiters on the job taking care of bringing in Mr. Love and his accomplice, Mr. Smythe.
Sgt. Barbara Ella looks as if she might faint. If she does, she better take her gun off her belt first.
NINETEEN
The Very, Very, Very Colorful Recruits.
Sgt. Barbara Ella, near hysteria, is on the phone. She is trying to reach Jin who hasn’t answered. “Pick up! Pick up,” she howls.
We are seated, enjoying the ice cream cones officer Bud went out to get us. They tell us their names. Bud and Gregg now very friendly.
“What should we do?” Gregg asks Barbara. “Nothing, not until I know what Jin is up to.”
A half hour goes by. We would leave, but this is too much fun watching Barbara pace. I’m dropping the Sgt. And Ella by now, along with our respect.
Finally, Jin answers. Barbara screeches at him. “What the hell are you doing?” The phone is on speaker so we get to hear everything.