We Wish You a Merry Murder

by Valerie Wolzien

“Rebecca …” Barbara started in a warning tone of voice.

  “Good, it’s about time. Poor Kelly has been just miserable, knowing that Evan was dead, but not knowing who killed him—not even knowing where the body was!” Elizabeth jumped in.

  “I don’t know who killed him! And I don’t know where the body is—not anymore, that is,” Rebecca admitted.

  “She means that she knew where he was killed—in your living room, Kelly Knowlson,” Barbara added.

  “In his favorite chair,” Kelly elaborated.

  “Now wait!” Susan almost had to shout to be heard over the rising voices. “Let’s start at the beginning.” She turned to Rebecca. “When did you see Evan dead? You did see him, didn’t you?”

  “She—”

  “Barbara, shut up! I’m going to tell Susan the whole story. Then she can figure out what to do with it!”

  “It’s about time,” Kelly had the energy to say.

  Rebecca just glared at her and began. “I was talking to your mother-in-law at the party when Evan came over to me and said that he had to make a call—a business call—and would be in the bedroom for a few minutes—”

  “If you were so important to Evan’s business, why didn’t he tell you what the emergency was about? How come—” Elizabeth interrupted.

  “Maybe because that would have been rude to our guests,” Rebecca shot back.

  “Evan was never rude to guests in his house,” Kelly agreed, but Rebecca glared at her anyway.

  “As I was saying! He left the room, and I was busy, and I didn’t think anything about him being gone until Kelly and you came back to the house, Susan. Well, think about it,” she continued, guessing that no one believed her, “I was giving a party. I was busy, and, it wasn’t as though I thought Evan was missing; I didn’t think about him at all. If I had thought about him, I would have assumed that he was in the media room, or someplace else with one of our guests. I had no idea that he was shot, after all.”

  “Of course not,” Susan said, hoping everyone else would have the sense to shut up and let her continue. They did.

  “Well, we all went through the shed and over to Kelly’s house. You were there, Susan. You know I’m telling the truth.”

  “Thomas and Travis were drinking in the shed, and had already discovered the body and done heaven knows what with it,” Elizabeth added.

  “Now wait. Just who discovered the body first? Kelly and I, or the boys?” Susan asked.

  “You and Kelly must have,” Rebecca said sadly. “And I’m afraid they were the ones who moved it. They thought that I had something to do with his death and they decided to hide the body.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, what else could they do?” Rebecca responded to Susan’s shrill exclamation. “They were trying to protect me. I thought it was sweet of them, actually.”

  “Where did they hide it?” Susan asked, not wanting to get into a discussion of the twins’ behavior.

  Rebecca smiled. “I think you almost guessed where, Susan.”

  “I did?” Susan gasped, then slapped her forehead. “Oh, no. The punching bag! It was hidden in the punching bag! I knew there was something odd about that! Rebecca, did the twins hide Evan in my garage?”

  Kelly started to wail, and Barbara and Elizabeth stared at her with shocked looks on their faces.

  “No, they didn’t. They put a punching bag in your garage, just like they said they were going to. What sort of children do you think they are? At first, they just stuffed his body in the trunk of our Mercedes—until the party was over and they could tell me about finding him. I was furious with them for stealing all that liquor and planning their own private party. With Evan disappearing and all, I was ready to explode when the last guest went home and the caterers left. But they looked so upset—much more upset than I had ever seen them. I insisted that they tell me what was going on.” She paused a moment. “And they did. They were terrified, of course. They hadn’t had anything to do with Evan’s death, but who was going to believe them? So the three of us decided to keep the body hidden. Later that night, we all moved Evan’s body into the box that the punching bag had come in, wrapped it up in a half-dozen rolls of metallic wrapping paper, and left it standing in the corner of our garage. We thought it should be in the cold, you know,” she added, with a quick look to see what response that got from Kelly.

  Kelly only sniffed loudly.

  “So, anyway,” Rebecca continued, “that’s where it stayed from that night until he—it—was stolen … taken—well, it vanished,” she concluded.

  “It what?” Elizabeth asked.

  “When?” Susan asked.

  “Oh, I thought we were going to get to have a proper funeral at last,” Kelly wailed. “Everyone in town would have come, and heaven knows how many others would have sent flowers. And there would have been so many speakers and tributes … Evan knew some really famous people, you know. We could have had a large reception at the house afterward. Something tasteful, but creative, you know. Evan would have loved having a large funeral!”

  “I doubt that,” Rebecca said ruefully. “And I don’t know when it vanished. I suppose it could have been right away. I just found out this morning myself.”

  “You’d better explain,” Susan suggested.

  “Well, when I ran into you at the ski shop, it occurred to me that, as of tomorrow, our wonderful hiding place wouldn’t be so wonderful anymore. After all, no one expects to see large wrapped presents around the house the day after Christmas, and I decided to figure out what to do with it—him. Anyway, the—the box was in the back corner of the garage, behind Evan’s Porsche. I had been ignoring it as much as possible. You can imagine.”

  “Yes, I can,” Susan agreed.

  “Well, I thought it might, well, it might smell a little by now and I approached it pretty slowly, but imagine my surprise when I found that the wrapping paper had been altered slightly and some of the tape was loose. And when I went to look more closely, it toppled to the floor—and bounced!”

  “It was empty,” Susan concluded.

  “Yes.”

  “And you have no idea when this happened?”

  “None. It could have been right after the twins and I put it—him—there. I avoided looking at it as much as possible. And they did, too.”

  “You checked with them about that?”

  “Yes. Right away. I could tell by the looks on their faces that they were as surprised as I was.”

  “Did anyone else get into the garage?”

  “No one that I know of.”

  “Could anyone else get into the garage without an alarm going off?” Susan asked.

  “Oh, yes. The alarm system that Evan had put into the house is broken in the garage. I smashed one of the connections or electrodes or something when I was setting up those cutouts that Evan had made for the front yard. It hadn’t been fixed yet.”

  “So where is Evan now?” cried Kelly, getting back to the point.

  THIRTY-THREE

  The Gordons’ house smelled deliciously of balsam and garlic when the Henshaws arrived to spend Christmas Eve with them.

  “You’re still thinking about the murder?” Kathleen asked, taking Susan’s coat from her.

  “Yes, because I think I’m getting close to solving the problem. I thought that whoever murdered Evan must be the person who moved his body, who was trying to cover up, but I don’t think the twins killed him, do you?”

  “It doesn’t seem likely,” Kathleen agreed, turning the rest of Susan’s family over to her husband to entertain.

  “Do you think he was killed at Kelly’s house?” Susan asked.

  “Probably. You said that the blood was on his body, right?”

  “Yes, it had flowed out of his head and straight down his shirtfront.” She shuddered and went on. “I don’t think any of it got on the chair or anything else. I know there wasn’t any blood around after the body disappeared. Why?”

  “Well, we know he went into
the kitchen—supposedly to make a phone call—but we don’t know where he went after that. He could have gone straight out the back door, through the shed, and to Kelly’s house.”

  “And been shot,” Susan added quickly.

  “But why?” Kathleen persisted. “Why did he go to Kelly’s house unless he was planning to meet Kelly?”

  “Who was at the hospital by that time.”

  “But he didn’t know that, did he? And, even if he knew she was at the hospital, why would he go to her house?”

  “To get something that he had left there? Something she wouldn’t give him?”

  “Susan, can you imagine Kelly refusing Evan anything?”

  “That’s true, but there must be some reason for Kelly’s house to be involved in this.” Susan bit her lip.

  “Why was he killed during his own party? That’s a pretty risky time to murder someone,” Kathleen continued. “In my mind, this all seems just a little unplanned. There must have been other opportunities to kill him.”

  “Maybe the timing was critical,” Susan suggested. “Maybe he was killed to prevent something from happening.”

  Kathleen looked at her friend in surprise. “You’ve learned a thing or two about crime, haven’t you?”

  “Since I was just a minor officer in the PTA? You bet I have. Why do you think I’ve been hanging around you so much for three years?” Susan asked in a kidding tone of voice.

  “Well, we’re going to have the chance to see what I’ve learned from you in your own field of expertise,” Kathleen said enigmatically.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see. Isn’t that Jed calling you from the kitchen?”

  “Sounds like it. Are we starting our meal in there?”

  “Yes. Do you like mussels?”

  “Love them.”

  “Good. Follow me.” She turned and looked Susan in the eye. “Have you ever been to an Italian Christmas Eve dinner before?”

  “No. I’m not terribly hungry, though. Do you think your mother would be offended if I just pick?”

  “Yes. Eat. It’s good for you.”

  “Hey!” cried Chad, appearing in the hall with a plate in each hand. “You sound just like your mother. That’s what she said to me,” he told Kathleen, and then turned to Susan. “Dad told me to look for you. He says that you’d better hurry if you want some clams. He’s eating them by the handful.”

  “We’d better get in there,” Kathleen said, pushing her friend before her.

  Susan had spent a lot of time in Kathleen’s kitchen, but it had never been so filled with good food. Pots were bubbling or steaming on the stove, both ovens were on and full, baskets of bread sat on the table flanked by a dozen bottles of gleaming Amarone wine, and laid out across the counter were two huge pans. One turned out to be brimming with mussels marinara and the other contained clams casino. “Seafood!” Susan cried.

  “Didn’t Kathleen tell you? It’s traditional to have only fish on Christmas Eve. Eat. It’s good for you!”

  “Mother was just telling us that Dr. Barr is planning on stopping over later,” Jed said to his wife, a smile fixed on his face.

  “How nice.”

  “Yes, I called Dolores earlier and she said it was just fine,” Claire chirped up. She was sitting at the kitchen table, apparently not eating.

  “This is a case of the more the merrier,” Kathleen insisted quickly. “In fact, I’ve invited a few more people for dessert later. Mother has made enough for an army, as usual.”

  “Well, if some people aren’t going to eat anything,” Dolores said, pouring a little more sauce over the mussels and glancing at the glass of water Claire was clutching.

  “Kathleen said I could invite Seth. You don’t mind, do you?” Chrissy asked her mother.

  “Of course not.”

  “Why don’t you call him from the phone in the living room,” Kathleen suggested. “I’ll show you where it is.”

  Susan was standing between Kathleen and the door, and Kathleen took the chance to grab a few words with her. “Go on to the living room, Chrissy. I need to talk to your mother for just a minute.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Gordon. I don’t mind when people keep secrets this time of the year!”

  “Is this about Chr—”

  “No, but it just occurred to me that you’ve been inviting all the suspects in—in Evan’s disappearance,” Susan whispered.

  “I just wanted to get one last look. I keep thinking that I know—”

  “I do!” Susan interrupted. “I know who the murderer is! I just figured who went into the bedroom to call—but he didn’t call from the bedroom! He called from Kelly’s house!”

  “Where? Who?”

  “What did you say, dear?” Dolores called.

  “Nothing. We’re just discussing Christmas gifts … and things,” she called out, then turned back to Susan. “Now, did you say what I think you said?”

  “I think Evan must have called the police about his own murder; remember someone called them. And I really do think I know who the murderer is, but I have to know a few more things to be absolutely sure,” Susan insisted. “Listen, did you invite everybody who was at the party over for dessert?”

  “Everyone except Kelly.”

  “No. Kelly is important. It’s essential that Kelly be here. Give her a call.”

  “What am I going to say to Rebecca? I promised her specifically that Kelly wouldn’t be here.”

  “She asked?”

  “Yes, she did. I promised her that, if she came over for dessert, she wouldn’t run into Kelly.”

  “Okay. Then let me take care of that,” Susan suggested.

  “It’s more important to solve this crime than to make Rebecca happy,” Kathleen said. “Especially if she did it. Susan … ?”

  “No, not a word. I have to be sure—”

  “And you have to get back to your guests. Your mother is wondering out loud what has happened to you,” Jerry said, appearing in the hall. “Hey, Susan. Like my Christmas attire? My secretary gave these to me.” He held up one foot and displayed a tiny Santa face woven into navy socks.

  “Cute,” Susan replied absently. “Jerry, I have to talk to Chrissy in the living room. I’ll be back in a second.”

  She found Chrissy just hanging up.

  “Seth says he’ll come on over with his parents, but do we have to hang around long, Mom? Couldn’t we go for a walk and look at the lights or something?”

  “Wonderful idea!” Susan surprised her daughter by agreeing. “You better get back to the kitchen now. I have to make a phone call or two.”

  “Fine, Mom. Thanks.”

  Susan acknowledged her daughter and picked up the phone for a quick call. In a few minutes she was munching her way through the appetizers.

  Half an hour later, everyone except Kathleen and Dolores were in the dining room hungrily eyeing six gigantic platters of food. More was on the way.

  Two hours later, platters empty except for the shell collection that a meal like this always produces, Susan and Kathleen met in the kitchen. “I told your mother she had done enough and she was not to move from that couch until espresso was made and the desserts were on the table. But, you know,” she added to Kathleen, “you’re the one that looks exhausted. Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Just tired.” She glanced around the room. “But look at this mess. If I know my mother, she won’t even think about going to bed until it’s cleaned completely.”

  “Well, let’s get to work. What time did you ask everyone else to get here?” Susan asked, rolling up the sleeves of her silk dress and pulling on rubber gloves.

  Kathleen fiddled with the knobs on the espresso maker. “I said nine o’clock. It’s almost eight-thirty now. You know, I’ve been very patient, Susan. Aren’t you going to at least tell me what you’re looking for tonight?”

  “Kathleen, have you ever thought that this crime depends on people lying? Or maybe any crime depends on people’s lies.
What makes this one different is that it’s the lies of the person who was murdered that are covering up for the murderer.”

  “How much wine did you have with your dinner?”

  “I’m not making sense?”

  “Not much. What do you think Evan lied about?”

  “Almost everything. And it’s been going on for a long time,” Susan announced, dropping a pan full of silver into the soapy water in the sink. “It took me a long time to catch on, but I really think I have the whole story.”

  “So who did it?” Kathleen asked, taking Saran Wrap off a plate of cookies.

  “Susan knows who killed Evan?”

  “She probably just thinks she knows who killed him,” a second voice said, correcting the first speaker.

  Susan kept washing, and Kathleen hurried to greet her guests.

  “Rebecca! Barbara! I didn’t know you’d arrived. I’m so sorry. I hope Jerry let you in and took your coats.”

  “We’re fine—” Barbara, always the polite social comment ready, began.

  But Rebecca interrupted. “Who do you think killed my husband?”

  “I—”

  “And you had better be careful about what you say. I know a lot about the law and slander charges.”

  “You know a lot about a lot of laws, don’t you?” Susan murmured. “But don’t worry, I won’t slander anyone.”

  Rebecca looked at her curiously. “You do know something, don’t you?”

  “I think so, but I also want to wait until everyone is here. Why don’t you go on into the living room with everyone else? We’ll be serving dessert soon. There’s no reason for you to worry, is there? Not now, at least,” Susan said.

  But Rebecca had recovered her poise. “Sure. Why not? Coming, Barb?”

  “I— In a minute. I want to talk to Susan for a second. Go ahead.”

  Rebecca shrugged her indifference. “Fine. See you out there.”

  Barbara waited until the door had swung closed behind her friend before speaking. When she did it was in a hiss. “You think you know what’s going on, don’t you?”

  “I think I know who killed Evan—and why.”

  “Why can’t you leave well enough alone? Evan is gone. Kelly is near a breakdown. No one could pin anything on someone as unstable as she is. She won’t go to jail; she’ll go to some expensive hospital and be cured of this stupid obsession with Evan. You don’t know what you’re meddling in.”