8
Shelley followed Jane to the kitchen. Gordon was at the far end, grimly watching police activity in the back parking lot. "What are they doing?" Jane asked.
"Not much now," Gordon said, coming away from the window. "They've taken away the body. And bags and bags of stuff. Now they're measuring things."
"Why's Edgar determined to pin this on the Ewe Lambs?" Jane asked bluntly.
"Is he?" Gordon asked. "Makes sense. It wouldn't do us any good if it were known that this was a dangerous place to stay. But if one of the women staying here did it, why that's no reflection on us at all."
"I hadn't thought of that," Jane said. "When did she go out there? How did she do it? I know Edgar locks up carefully."
"Yes, but he didn't take roll call, you know. If that had been necessary, it would have been
your
job," Gordon said a little impatiently. "She either went out there before he locked up, or she let herself out afterwards. The doors work that way; they have to in case of fire. You can go out when they're locked, but they're all balanced to swing shut and relock. The bedroom doors will be like that, too, when they're done."
"When did you last see her?" Jane asked Gordon.
"Me? I don't know. I don't even know which one got killed. I wasn't paying attention."
"She went up to her room about nine-thirty," Shelley said. "At least, I assume that's where she went. She left the living room then."
"She didn't go out the kitchen door between then and ten because I was there the whole time," Jane said. "Except when I went into the library to look for my purse…" She trailed off.
"The police have their work cut out for them if they're trying to put together a timetable of what went on inside the house," Shelley said. "How many other outside doors are there, Gordon?"
"Dozens," he said grimly. "The front door, the French doors from the living room. A door on the third floor leading down an outside stairway. A door at the end of the utility room. Then there's a door from the deck—"
"Never mind. I get the picture," Shelley said.
"Is Edgar still with the detective?" Gordon asked. "I think I'll just see what's going on."
When he'd left the room, Shelley said, "What do you suppose really happened, Jane?"
"I don't know. There were beer cans on the floor out there and a spilled pack of cigarettes. I would guess she interrupted some tramps or drug dealers or something who were out there and they killed her."
"But what was she doing out there?"
Jane shrugged. "Just snooping around? Who knows? She did seem to have an obscene interest in everybody else's business. And the building is where Ted died. I notice everyone made a point of not mentioning that last night. Except when Avalon brought out that picture. I wonder if Pooky managed to get it away from her. Poor Avalon. Anyway, maybe it was just ghoulish curiosity about the place on Lila's part."
"Well, whatever it was, I've got to get my meeting back under way," Shelley said. "And your friend VanDyne is using the library. How long do you think he'll be?"
"Shelley, you'll never get everybody to settle down and talk about fund-raising! There's been a murder on the doorstep!"
Shelley considered this. "Maybe I
should
wait until afternoon."
"That makes me think; I've got jobs to do, too. I was looking for loo paper when I found her. I'm going back to work."
Jane went back upstairs, passing Pooky coming down. Ewe Lambs were spread out all over the house, some talking quietly, others doing paperwork or flipping through magazines. Jane went back to Avalon's room and found that there was a vast stash of toilet paper in the cabinet under the sink. She finished up the apricot room and went on to Kathy's, which was— not surprisingly—
a
mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a damp washcloth was on the floor making a spot on the carpet. An ashtray had spilled on the floor. And she'd have to do the bed from scratch. She tossed Kathy's cheesy plastic purse on the overstuffed chair by the window and started to work.
She kept thinking back to her conversation with Mel. And she found herself wondering what on earth Lila was really doing out in the carriage house. With her Grace Kelly hair and antique clothing and cool, nasty manner, Lila didn't seem the type to be a thrill-seeker who'd visit the scene of Ted Francisco's suicide. And she didn't seem to have any particular interest in Ted's death. Of course, they had all avoided mentioning him, so maybe that wasn't a fair assessment.
Still, what
had
she been doing in the carriage house? And when had she gone out there? She'd been present at dinner when Edgar made his strong warning about locking up at ten-thirty. If she went out before that, she probably assumed she'd be back in before the deadline. Then, too, she might well have been arrogant enough that it didn't matter. She didn't seem the type to care much if she disturbed someone else's rest. But if she went out later — why?
She had, of course, grown up in the neighborhood. Or at least lived here during high school. Maybe she still had acquaintances here and was going out to meet somebody. Somebody she shouldn't have met, obviously.
When Jane finished with the bed, she realized that Kathy's purse had slid off the chair and dumped its contents all over the floor. She started to put things back when she realized just what those contents were.
A slim-banded gold watch with diamonds around the face; a ring that featured an enormous dark pink stone that had to be a ruby. Stunned and curious, Jane opened the lizard-skin billfold and found a Gold Visa card, a Gold American Express card, and a checkbook showing a balance of $23,683.
"What have you got there?" Crispy said from the doorway. She came in and gently closed the door behind her.
"She's rich," Jane said, too astonished at the discovery to be embarrassed at being caught snooping.
"Of course she is. Couldn't you tell?"
"No! How could anybody tell?"
"Easy, my dear. If you know what to look for," Crispy said, taking the billfold from Jane and flipping through it before she put it back in the ratty plastic purse. "The hands always give it away. You just need
a quick glance at those cuticles to realize they've had at least ten years of manicures. And the slight tan line where she normally wears a watch and ring. Why would a person who always wears those take them off unless they conflicted with the image she's trying to project?"
"But why? Why pretend to be a poor slob? I'm always trying to pretend I'm
not
a poor slob!" she added with a laugh.
<
"Just a guess — she didn't want everybody to know she'd sold out to the establishment. She was a fiery liberal, convinced she'd change the world by sheer force of personality and righteousness. It was her claim to fame. Instead, she ends up a capitalist pig."
"So this scratching a living out of the dirt!in Oklahoma and picking up cans and bottles at the roadside to save the earth is just made up?" Jane said, still not quite convinced in spite of the evidence, i
"The little subsistence farm in Oklahoma is probably a thousand square acres of wall-to-wall oil wells."
"Amazing!"
"Rule One of Reunions, Jane. Nobody is what they seem." i
"Including you?"
"No, I'm the exception," Crispy said with a wry grin. "Actually, I came looking for you to ask a favor. The Joker has been at it again and all my underwear is missing." j
"You're kidding. This is ridiculous. And stealing underwear is nasty and creepy. Why is somebody doing this stuff?",
"Who knows? Somebody apparently thinks it's funny. Would you drive me to a mall to pick up a few things?" i
"Sure, but we'll have to make it fast. I've got to get all the rooms cleaned."
Elegant nails flashing, Crispy waved this away as a minor consideration.
Mel was gone. Jane,reported where she was going to Shelley, then asked permission of the police who were still working around the carriage house. After taking their names, the officer in charge let them leave.
They were only halfway to the mall when Crispy said, "Oops, I've lost my earring. Would you mind stopping to let me look for it?"
Crispy didn't even bother to look around the front seat, but stepped out and started searching the back. Jane watched her.
"Maybe you should look in your purse, Crispy," she suggested.
"Purse?" Crispy answered, her voice muffled as she rummaged under the backseat.
"Yes, I saw you put it in there as we started out."
Crispy lifted her head and grinned. "I should have known you'd be too smart to be fooled. I
do
like you."
"What are you really looking for?"
"That notebook."
"Notebook…? Oh, yes. The one Lila was looking for last night." Jane should have mentioned that to Mel. There was probably a lot she should have mentioned to him, come to think of it. She hadn't even told him about Dead Ted.
"Uh-huh, that's the one. She had it out in the car yesterday. I noticed it was just like mine, so I managed to shove it off.the seat and replace it with my own."
"So the one she brought inside and put on the hall table was really yours?"
"I just scooped it back up when she wasn't looking."
"But why?"
"Curiosity. I just wanted to see what she kept in it and the opportunity presented itself." She leaned back over and reached farther under the seat. "Ah, here it is."
"We'll go back and give it to the police," Jane said.
"Why on earth would we do that?"
"Because, in case you hadn't noticed, the owner has been murdered!"
"By drug dealers roaming the neighborhood. The notebook has nothing to do with it. And I will give it to them anyway. After I've taken a look at it. Now, lead me to the lingerie!"
She hopped back into the front seat and sat there looking like a happy puppy getting to go for a ride. Jane started the engine. "I'm going to tell the police you have that….
after
you show it to me," she said.
Crispy grinned. "A woman after my own heart— such as it is."
Jane let Crispy out at the mall and cruised the parking lot. She hoped Crispy had left the notebook in the car so she could take a quick look, but there was no sign of it. Crispy emerged in a remarkably short time with a shopping bag and they drove back to the bed and breakfast. There was still one police car in the back drive, so Jane parked in front. Crispy hopped out of the car, gushing thanks, and Jane followed more slowly. She wished she could stay outside and enjoy the day. September could be a replay of August, hot and oppressive, but today was one of those September beauties that made a person remember how nice autumn could be. The air, while not chilly, was fresh and clean-smelling. Jane could imagine, if not actually smell, woodsmoke and the tang of apple cider.
As Jane reached the front door, she nearly collided with the mailman, whom she hadn't noticed approaching. There was a slot next to the door and he was struggling to force a large, stiff envelope into it. "I'll take it in," she said, taking the wad of mail from him.
She automatically sorted the mail into a pile for Gordon, a pile for Edgar, and an enormous stack for "Occupant," and set the three stacks on the front hall table as she passed through. Mimi came down the stairs wearing a red silk tunic over black trousers and clutching a school yearbook. "I hear you had to take Crispy shopping," she said. "That must have been a thrill. I bet she goes through a department store like the plague."
"I was spared the sight," Jane said. "I drove around looking for a parking place. She was awfully fast, though. I imagine there are saleswomen still weeping and pressing cologne-drenched hankies to their temples."
Mimi laughed. "This is crazy. Who would steal her underwear and why?"
Jane shrugged, a corner of her mind still picking over the mail.
"Shelley held a gun to our heads while you were gone and made us clean up our rooms like good little girls."
"Did she? Thank goodness. It's already noon and I'd only done two rooms. May I look at the yearbook? Will you show me everybody?"
They went into the living room and Mimi insisted on waiting on Jane for a change. While she was fetching them Cokes, Jane idly flipped through the book. Pooky came in the room, glanced around as if looking for something, and left. Jane could hear shrill laughter upstairs. Some of them must have gathered in one of the bedrooms to gossip. In spite of everything, they were having a good time. At least, most of them were. She caught a glimpse of Beth through the French windows. She was strolling outdoors, hands behind her back, head down, deep in thought. It made a nice picture, the renowned judge in a moment of contemplative leisure against a background of glossy rhododendron bushes and tidy chrysanthemums loaded with fat buds. Hector, the Siamese cat, was strolling along behind her, adding immeasurably to the domesticity of the picture.
Mimi returned with their drinks and a plate of sandwiches and chips. "You missed lunch."
"Lunch! Oh, my God! I was supposed to be helping Edgar."
"It's all right. He just put out sandwich fixings and we helped ourselves. Edgar's idea of sandwich fillings includes pate's, and anchovy butter. We're not talking processed cheese here," she said.
' "Who's Gloria Kevitch?" Jane asked, taking a bite of a deviled ham sandwich on homemade rye bread. Oh, that Edgar!
"Gloria who?"
"Gloria Kevitch. The yearbook is dedicated to her."
Mimi looked puzzled for a second before a light dawned. "Oh, yes. A girl in our class who died. It was supposed to be a car accident, but it was widely assumed to have been suicide."
"Two suicides in one class?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Was she a Ewe Lamb?"
"Good heavens, no. She was an ordinary person. Ewe Lambs were all from the 'top drawer.'" She spoke with heavy, unpleasant irony. "Poor Gloria. She was in my gym class and was a cute, funny girl, if a bit hyper. She tried to get into the club, but she was voted down. It's amazing to me to think back to how much it meant to us then. And it was so silly and snobbish. But then, so were we."