“Of course,” Susan said. “Please go meet your friends,” she added, as organ music began to be heard.
“Why don’t we go in and sit down,” was Kathleen’s next suggestion and, Susan agreeing, they headed to the door.
“Oh no,” Kathleen exclaimed.
“Well,” Susan said, following her gaze. “What did you expect? The Elliots really didn’t spend much time in Hancock and not all that many people knew Dawn, and …”
“Yes, but I thought that someone besides ourselves would come.”
“Ladies, if you’re looking for the Elliot service, its location was changed to the main sanctuary at the last minute,” a dignified man in a black suit stood up from where he had been sitting in the back row of the chapel. “I can show you the way …”
“Thank you, we know it,” Susan assured him, and she and Kathleen hurried off. “We’re going to be late, although I don’t suppose it matters much.” There was no one in the narthex outside the church and they hurried in. “Oh … !” Susan was so surprised that she slapped her hand over her mouth to shut in the words she would have liked to have said. The room was jammed!
VI
“Well, that was very, very interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Quaker memorial service before,” Kathleen said, as they stood up in the back pew where they had squeezed in an hour before.
“Especially not one in an Episcopal church,” Susan agreed. “But you know it was a service like Dawn and I think she would have liked it—if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Kathleen smiled. “But I think we’re lucky that so many of her colleagues from the city showed up. Did you notice that no one from Hancock spoke?”
“Except for Miss Saldes, the elderly lady in the pink dress. She’s the research librarian downtown,” Susan said.
“Oh, I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was talking about a university library when she spoke about Dawn doing research from early in the morning until late at night.”
“It does seem a little difficult to envision Dawn doing research on extinct Indians in the Hancock Library. Maybe she was looking up something else.”
“Maybe. Did you notice that Sardini and Mitchell were there? I wonder if they have any information,” Kathleen said, looking around the room.
“Susan! Jed didn’t come to the service? Colin just left. He had so much work to do, but he certainly didn’t want to miss paying his last respects to Dawn.” Maureen Small came over to them, a blob of wet tissues in one hand.
“Jed’s here somewhere,” Susan replied, hoping it was true. She had looked around during the service but couldn’t spot him. “He had to be in the city earlier so we came separately.”
“All these men, just rushing in and rushing out. Colin. Jed,” Kathleen said, smiling at Maureen. “I want to find Jesse Clark and offer my condolences. Have you seen him?”
“Jesse Clark?” Maureen asked.
“Dawn’s cousin,” Kathleen explained. “The man who was riding around town in her black Jeep—the one that I ran into and smashed one side of,” she added.
“The man who was in the black Jeep the night of Susan’s party?” Maureen looked anxiously around the room while asking the question.
“Yes … where are you going?” Kathleen asked as Maureen turned around quickly.
“I just thought of something I forgot to tell Colin. Maybe I can catch him before he leaves.” And she pushed her way through the crowd toward the door.
“I wonder what that was all about,” Susan said quietly to Kathleen.
“Looks to me like she didn’t want to run into Jesse Clark,” Kathleen said.
“She didn’t even know who he is,” Susan protested.
“Maybe I told her all that she needed to know.”
“What?”
“Maybe she has good reason to fear the man in the black Jeep no matter who he is,” Kathleen said.
“Are you talking about me?” Jesse Clark appeared at Kathleen’s side.
“Jesse! What are you doing here? I thought you’d be greeting mourners at the door,” Susan exclaimed.
“I thought about it but decided it would be inappropriate. No one in Hancock knows me except for you two and I had very little contact with her professional friends and colleagues. Dawn wrote fairly specific instructions for this service in her will and she didn’t mention a chief mourner so I thought I would just dispense with that.”
“When I didn’t see you, I was a little afraid that the police had held you. The last time I saw you, you were off to their offices downtown,” Susan reminded him.
“No. They questioned me for a few hours, and then said a very polite thank you and let me go. I didn’t even get the impression that I was a suspect. They asked why I appeared at the front door the night of your party, of course. But I told them the same thing I told you: that Dawn had asked me to meet her in front of your house. And, when she wasn’t there, I decided to knock to see if she had gone inside. It was silly of me not to explain to the man who came to the door.”
“The police knew that Dawn was planning on being at the party?” Susan asked, wondering if she would have preferred Dawn’s alive presence to her dead one.
“Yes. One of the other guests had invited her along and had already mentioned that to the police, I understand.
“They were also very interested in finding out what I had seen outside of your house and the house next door while the party was going on—not where I was at the time she was killed or even when she was moved into the garage. That is, as far as I can tell. It may be presumptuous of me to think that I knew where their questions were leading.”
“But what does that mean?” Susan asked. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not a suspect; I never thought you were, remember. But why are they interested in what was going on outside the house?”
“An excellent question,” Kathleen said. “And I think I may know the answer.” And she turned and left the group quickly.
“But she’s not going to tell me,” Susan commented. “No one tells me anything.” She turned back to her companion. “Were you surprised to see how many people arrived for the service? I thought it was going to be in the chapel.”
“I was shocked. But I shouldn’t have been. The sensational coverage this has gotten in the news brought out people. Actually, I was a little offended by that at first but, when I thought about it, I decided that Dawn would probably enjoy a laugh over it.” He shrugged. “So why should I let it bother me?”
Susan, noticing for the first time his very red eyes, realized she had been remiss. “I shouldn’t be talking about the police when you’re feeling her death so much. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I find that the more I think about it, the more I want her killer found. No one should kill someone and then get away with it!”
“Susan, did you notice that Richard isn’t here? I thought I might have missed him so I found one of the men from the funeral home and they said that he wasn’t present—that he hadn’t even stopped in to see the body!” Gloria Bower was obviously thrilled. “Can you believe it!”
“Richard Elliot is in California—Los Angeles, I believe,” Jesse Clark told her.
“Really? I don’t think I know …” Gloria began, looking up at him.
Susan quickly introduced them and then asked a question of her own. “Why is he there? Kathleen saw him and told me that he was leaving, but I really don’t think of him as a Hollywood actor.”
“He did do some commercials out there a year or so ago,” Gloria said. “I remember him telling me about it last summer. But he claimed to hate Hollywood and films and that type of thing.”
“Probably because no one out there would hire him. You can tell he’s overacting from the back of a theater with a large house—think how he would look on the screen,” Susan suggested.
“That’s just what someone has done evidently,” Jesse said. “He called early this morning—I hate to think what time it was on the coa
st—he purported to be thinking about Dawn and her memorial service but what he really wanted to report was that he’s been offered a role in a movie. He said it was a starring role, but I don’t know that we can go by that.”
“But what is he going to play?” Gloria asked.
“An aging Shakespearean actor, from what I could tell between quotes. I assume the movie is a comedy.”
“You mean someone is going to make a fool out of him,” Susan said.
“No more than he’s been making out of himself for the past decade.”
VII
“There’s going to be an arrest.”
“What?” Susan spun around and stared at Kathleen. “Who?”
“I don’t know. That damn Sardini wouldn’t tell me. I wouldn’t know about the arrest except that Mitchell opened his mouth once too often—as usual. Get into the car and I’ll explain.” The two women were back in the lot behind the church, after having met more of Dawn’s colleagues and running into Dan Hallard, who was driving his wife home. Jed hadn’t appeared.
Susan connected his absence to what Kathleen was saying. “Did they make an arrest? Did they arrest Jed? Is that why …”
“Of course not. You’d know if Jed were under arrest,” Kathleen assured her. “It’s not something the police keep from the family. Don’t worry.” She got into the driver’s seat and waited for Susan to get in the other side before continuing. “What I don’t understand is why Sardini and Mitchell were at the service if they’re going to arrest someone this afternoon, unless …”
“Unless they’re going to arrest someone at the service. Kathleen, don’t start the car. We’ve got to go back inside and—”
“No, they already drove off. I watched them out the window of the narthex. The arrest isn’t going to be made here.”
“Then where?” Susan asked, as Kathleen turned the key and started the engine.
“Good question. Where are you going?”
“Home. I need to check on Chad. Poor kid isn’t getting as much attention as he deserves for someone as sick as he is.”
But, when they arrived at her home, they found out that she was wrong. Chad and his father were sitting in the study, sipping hot chocolate in front of the fire, in the middle of a game of Trivial Pursuit.
“Hi!” Chad looked up from the rectangle of cardboard that he had been reading to his father. “I’m winning!”
“Hi, hon. Hello, Kathleen. Is the service over?” Jed stood up and kissed his wife.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, returning his kiss.
“I made good time coming out of the city and thought that I’d stop here and check on Chad before going to the service and he talked me into a game. Listen, I’d like some coffee. Maybe Kathleen can take my place for a few minutes while we go in the kitchen and get something to munch on.”
“Sure,” Kathleen sat down immediately. “You’re not going to ask me a question about some little-known king in fifteenth-century England, are you?”
Chad grinned. “How much do you know about geology?”
“You’re in luck. Nothing,” she answered as his parents left the room.
“Why did you stay here? Was something wrong when you checked?” Susan asked, immediately after the kitchen door closed behind them.
“No. The poor kid just looked so spotty and lonely that I decided that it wasn’t necessary to go to the service. Was I missed?”
Susan told him about the crowd and assured him of the contrary before mentioning the impending arrest. Jed was busy looking into a cupboard so she couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t have to when he spoke.
“You thought that they had arrested me, didn’t you?” he asked quietly and, she thought, sadly.
“I thought that maybe …”
“Susan, Jed. What kind of car do Maureen and Colin drive?” Kathleen came into the room asking.
‘What kind of what?” Susan couldn’t change her thoughts so quickly.
“What kind of car? Chad was just telling me that they had a new Jaguar sedan,” she insisted.
“That’s right,” Jed answered. “But I don’t think they own it. I think Colin just rents it. At least I know he was doing that until a few years ago.”
“Is this important right now?” Susan demanded.
“Yes. I think I may know who’s going to be arrested,” Kathleen answered.
FORTY PLUS SEVEN
I
“I knew you would say that so I called Heather last night and the party’s on. I even heard her check with her mother. So we just have to go out and buy her a present. I know just what she wants.” Chrissy, still in her nightclothes (this time a pair of pink sweat pants, green and yellow tweed baggy socks, and a gray sweatshirt professing to be the property of the New York Mets) got up from her seat at the kitchen table and went to the window. “I really don’t think the snow’s all that deep,” she added.
“Chrissy! How can you say that? There must be twelve inches out there and the plows haven’t come around yet. Your father’s had a long week and I am not going to wake him up to take care of your brother while we try to find an open store to buy a present for Heather …”
“Not just any store, Mom. I want to go to A Feather in Her Cap. They have the cutest ski mittens and Heather really wants them …”
“You’re not listening to me. I said that I wasn’t going to talk about this until the roads were clear and your father was up and I meant that … What was that?” she interrupted herself at a loud crash that sounded as if it were coming from under her feet.
“Something in the basement? Did the furnace blow up again?” Chrissy asked, remembering last month’s crisis, and following her mother to the basement stairs.
Susan, not believing that a furnace a month old would explode, was relieved that there was no smoke curling up from below. No loud noises followed the first one but, surprised to find the lights on, she started down the stairs. At the bottom, she looked around the large wood-paneled rec room. With a living room, a study, and family room on the first floor as well as the dining room and kitchen, their family of four had found little use for this space. The furniture was from the apartment in the city and very worn. A small HO gauge train was half set up over a rustic wood wet bar that the previous owner had installed and that had never been used while the Henshaws lived there. Three doors led from this room. The one to Susan’s laundry room was open and three built-in bins overflowing with clothes reminded her that she had better run the washing machine today. She should probably pull the sheets off Chad’s bed and get some clean ones for him while she was about it.
“Did I smell coffee?”
“What are you doing down here?” Susan was startled as her husband’s head popped out of the door to her left.
“Cleaning. I’m thinking of knocking down the wall between this room and the next one and giving myself a bigger workshop. Chad’s getting old enough to be building things and I want to get him a workbench of his own and maybe some simple hand tools and things. We really don’t use the stuff in there,” (he pointed toward the last closed door) “so I thought this might be a good idea. What do you think?”
“Great idea! I’ll get you some coffee and be right back!” Susan almost ran up the stairs to the kitchen. Although she suspected that Chad’s enthusiasm for this plan would equal that he felt for the train his father had bought him, she was happy. This was just what Jed needed: a new project. She delayed getting the coffee only long enough to run to the second floor and peek into her son’s room. Glad that he was still asleep, she hurried back to the kitchen and microwaved some frozen coffee cake to take with the coffee. Everything on a tray, she returned to Jed. He was busily pulling a top-of-the-line Tunturi stationary bicycle through one of the doors and into the space in front of her.
“Let me help,” Susan offered, putting the food down next to the train and hurrying over. She picked up the back end and together they placed it in one corner of the room.
“I
wonder if we should have a garage sale and try to clear out some of this stuff,” Jed said, waving back into the room he had just left. An exercise track was still in place. A weightlifting bench was resting on its side against one wall. “We get enough exercise down at the Club and no one uses this stuff here.”
Susan thought guiltily of her ever-present plans to “start tomorrow” and decided to put off anything definite. After all, she might wake up one morning and really do it. Or maybe Chrissy … “Why don’t we just shove it all into the corner of this room for now?” she suggested. “After all, we don’t come down here much, and no one holds garage sales in March. Next month we’ll have a better chance of getting rid of it.”
“Good idea. Will you help me move the Nordic Trac? Or, if you’re busy, I could ask Chrissy …”
“It won’t take any time at all. We can do it in a few seconds. But, Jed, the plows haven’t been through yet. If you need anything at the hardware store …”
“Not now. I’m just going to be tearing down this morning. And everything should be cleared by the afternoon.”
Susan glanced into the room he called his shop and wondered if the hardware store could possibly be as well equipped. For years, Jed had amused himself on weekends buying up every kind of tool and gadget available to the suburban handyman. So why was she always calling repairmen and carpenters when this treasure trove of materials lay beneath her feet? Maybe she should skip exercising and take a course in carpentry.
They had just finished rearranging the last of the weights when Chad appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hey, a bench press. They have some at the high school. That’s just what I need. I was thinking about trying out for the wrestling team next year.” He hurried down and stroked the dusty plastic covering the top.
“You were?” Susan asked, not sure how she felt about this revelation.
“Did I ever tell you I was on the wrestling team in high school?” His father’s enthusiasm was apparent.
“You are not to do anything with those weights until I have checked your temperature,” Susan insisted, despite her husband’s attitude. He needed a distraction from his worries and she was thrilled that he was involved with a new project, but Chad’s health came first.
The Fortieth Birthday Body Page 22