The Outsmarting of Criminals: A Mystery Introducing Miss Felicity Prim (25 page)

Lorraine promised to call, dropped Miss Prim at Rose Cottage,
and waved in the Cadillac’s rearview mirror as she turned the corner and headed up the ridge.

I fear I have lost my opportunity
, Miss Prim thought. She had so many questions to ask Lorraine, but the timing could not have been worse. All of those questions would have to wait until tomorrow, when Lucian was safely home. Perhaps some in the criminal outsmarting profession would criticize her decision to delay interrogating Lorraine, arguing that the holders of important information should be questioned even when the timing is inauspicious. However, such axioms ran counter to the practices Mrs. Charity Prim had so carefully inculcated in her children: to be sensitive to others and to value kindness over cold, grim efficiency.

With the remainder of the evening stretching ahead of her, Miss Prim saw a
n opportunity to catch up on her telephone calls. First she placed a call to Doctor Poe, but the call went unanswered. That was strange, Miss Prim thought; the doctor was usually home by this hour, reading his newspaper and enjoying his nightly port.

Replacing the phone receiver i
n its cradle, Miss Prim thought,
I must examine my feelings regarding Detective Ezra Dawes more closely.
Certainly he was handsome and certainly he was appealing—and, to a certain extent, he was
expected
. For is it not commonplace for the new criminal outsmarter in town to meet an attractive member of the police force and to fall head over heels in love with him while denying the attraction to herself and everyone else?

Not that it had come to that;
at least not in her case, and at least not yet. Miss Prim was self-aware enough to understand that attraction to a rugged detective does not have the same emotional value as a long-standing relationship with a dear friend and confidant, but she was also human enough to admit that Ezra Dawes made her pulse race and her pupils dilate. And hadn’t the detective, earlier that very day, openly admitted that he found her pleasing to the eye? Though this likely meant the attraction was mutual, mature reasonable people know that a mutual attraction does not necessitate the pursuit of a romantic relationship.

Her attempts to raise Celia were equally unsuccessful, so Miss Prim left a brief message. “We’re having a bit of excitement here, Sister,” Miss Prim said into the hissing air of Celia’s answering machine. “Lorra
ine’s husband has gone missing and a manhunt is ongoing. Please call when you get a moment. I am anxious to hear about your progress in locating Providence and her aunt.”

Remembering
that Dolly was staying at Zoroastria’s apartment, Miss Prim dialed Zoroastria’s number. Someone answered on the first ring.

“Sup?” Zoroastria yelled over a throbbing electronic beat in the background.

“Zoroastria? Is that you?”

“
Yo, girl! Hey everyone, it’s Miss Prim! How you doing, baby?”

“
I’m quite well, Zoroastria. I can’t believe it’s only a week since I’ve seen all of you. It seems so long ago.”

“Life’s a drag without you, Miss Prim. That’s why we had to have a party.”

So that explained the noise in the background …

“Is Dolly there, Zoroastria? I don’t wish to interrupt your party, but I’ve been a little concerned about her and, well, I suppose I am just checking in.”

“She’s all mopey, Miss Prim, and I’ve had enough of that! Viveca’s mixing up the cosmos right now, even if she can’t have one. Hint, hint!”

“But Dolly’s all right? She told you what’s happening with Benjamin?”

“Benjamin Smenjamin. Just a guy, Miss Prim, just a guy! We both know they’re a dime a dozen, but D ain’t with the program yet. Don’t worry, me and my girls are gonna teach her what to do when a man messes with your head. When I get done with her, you’ll be calling her Zoroastria the Second!”

Oh dear
, Miss Prim thought,
one Zoroastria is more than enough
.

“Would you put her on the line for just a moment?”

“Sure. YO! DOLLY! MISS PRIM WANTS TO TALK TO YOU! Here she is, Miss Prim. Make it quick, girl, we gotta get this party started!”

After having her eardrums assaulted by several unpleasant noises, Miss Prim heard Dolly’s voice.

“Miss Prim, thank God! I can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into.” She lowered her voice. “You know how we always suspected that Zoroastria’s life is one big party? Well, it
is
. I haven’t slept a wink in two nights.”

“Oh, dearest, enjoy this time with your friends! You may not be sleeping much now, but you will look back on these nights with many smiles when you are my age.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dolly said, skeptically. “But I’ll admit that all this … um, stimulation … has kept my mind off my troubles.”

“Any word from Benjamin?”

“None at all.
I’m really worried.”

“You do need some time away, dearest,” Miss Prim said. “Is our plan now cemented? I shal
l pick you up tomorrow evening at the Two Oaks train station?”

“Absolutely, Miss
Prim. The train gets in at 7:12. It’ll be good to have some peace and quiet.” Miss Prim heard whooping in the background. “Because those two things are definitely in short supply around here. I’d better go, Miss Prim. Zoroastria is waving a pink drink at me.”

“Go, go,” Miss Prim ordered. “And I do promise you a restful, relaxing weekend in Connecticut.”

As Miss Prim hung up the phone, she fought to resist an urge that had been a source of much consternation to Mama: specifically, Miss Felicity Prim’s intense desire to match-make. While Miss Prim had liked Benjamin when she met him, she had now decided he was thoroughly unsuitable, and a substitute must be found. Her mind wandered to the tall young man who’d carried her books from the moving truck into her attic. Josh. Certainly a polite young man, though one who made too-frequent use of the informal vernacular; but someone with such good bones could be brought along gently with the right coaching.

Yes, on the morrow she might make a few discreet inquiries about Josh’s current relation
ship status. And what the heck. One more person at her upcoming Sunday gathering would only make it merrier.

*

An hour later, her shower taken and her nightly ritual complete, Miss Prim turned in. As always, Bruno stretched himself alongside her bed and began snoring, a sound not unlike a pig attempting to sing opera. Miss Prim found the noise charming and endearing; in a strange way, it made her feel safe.

W
ith the racket emanating from Bruno, was it any wonder that strange dreams should take hold? The dreams had no images associated with them, but rather took the form of urgent whisperings, struggles, and frustrations. But … how odd that Bruno should seem to hear them, too, for intimidating growls began to replace his snores.

Miss Prim’s eyes sprang open when she realized the sounds were not emanating from a dream but rather from somewhere in the cottage.

She swung her legs out of bed and put her hand on Bruno’s collar to quiet him. The sounds were unmistakable: angry murmurs and entreaties. The noise was not coming from the cottage’s main floor or from the attic. No, it was below her, in the hidden basement.

What should she do? Common sense dictated that she get out of the cottage immediately and drive directly to the police station. Alternatively, she could lock herself into her bedroom to protect herself from anyone who might wish
to harm her. But there was no guarantee that the person or persons in the basement would not be able to break down the bedroom door. In just two dozen steps she could reach the phone in the parlor and call for help, but dialing a phone seemed like the wrong course of action in an emergency. Fleeing or barricading herself would expose her to less danger.

Or
—perhaps this was her opportunity for a trial by fire? As she’d prepared for her career in criminal outsmarting, she’d known that she might find herself in dangerous situations. This was one of the reasons she’d trained in self-defense. Now she had Bruno to protect her, too.
And
she was the proud owner of a Laser Taser 3000.

Gathering her resolve, she retrieved the Laser Taser 3000 from the drawer of her nightstand. She then donned her slippers, switched on the lamp next to her bed, and made her way slowly and quietly to the kitchen.

To her surprise, the secret door was firmly closed, the wooden star in its assigned place in the cupboard. Now she could hear no noises in the basement, none whatsoever. Had her footsteps silenced the intruder? Or had the noises been the sounds of the house settling—or the product of an overactive imagination?

Quite possibly the latter, but it would not hurt to double check. Ensuring the emptiness of the basement
, she decided, would allow her to sleep better (but not wonderfully) for the rest of the night, so she removed the star from the cupboard and pressed it firmly into the indentation. The door popped open. Miss Prim listened and heard nothing.

“Come, Bruno,” she said, flipping the light switch at the head of the staircase. She placed her foot on the first stair and Bruno moved into place behind her. She grabbed the Laser Taser 3000 with both hands, thinking how foolish she must
look: a crazy lady, gripping an electrical shock device, descending the basement stairs in her nightie.

She descended three more steps and lowered herself onto her haunches to get a wider view of the basement.

A man stood in the corner. Their eyes met.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Serendipity,” said Lucian Koslowski. He was carrying a box overflowing with springs, switch plates, and extension cords. “Why are you pointing that thing at me? Come down here and help me, if you please. I seemed to have misplaced my copy of the
Bhagavad Gita
, and Lorraine is no help whatsoever.”

The Second Disappearance

What a night it had been, Miss Prim reflected the next morning. Despite Lorraine’s warnings that Lucian might be dangerous when agitated (perhaps another of Lorraine’s exaggerations or not-quite-true statements?), Miss Prim had found her neighbor quite pliant. She’d invited him upstairs for refreshment. As he sat sipping tea, munching happily on oatmeal cookies and reminiscing about his friendship with Charlemagne, Miss Prim had placed two telephone calls, the first to Lorraine and the second to Ezra Dawes.

Five minutes later, Lorraine had shown up, this time wearing elaborate (some might say
garish
) face make-up and a wig of wild curls. Miss Prim was horrified, for Lorraine had managed to make herself look quite deranged. Lorraine, noticing Miss Prim’s aghast expression, had rushed to explain.

“It’s the Dee Snyder look, Felicity.”

“Dee Snyder?”

“T
he lead singer of Twisted Sister. A classic metal band from the eighties. Some music critics called them ‘hair bands’ because they sported long, fabulous locks. I’ve been wanting to go curly, and I couldn’t think of any really wonderful modern celeb to use for inspiration. Maybe Minnie Driver, but she’s not exactly A-list, is she?” Then, to her husband: “Lucian, what
are
you doing here?”

“What?”

“I SAID, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, LUCIAN?”

“You need to put on your glasses, Lorraine. Anyone can see I am enjoying a cup of tea with a delightful hostess. I say, Miss Simplicity, have you seen my Fabergé eggs anywhere? I had them just a moment ago.”

As Lorraine hurried Lucian to finish his snacks, Detective Dawes had arrived. He took Miss Prim off to the side.

“Any idea
how he got into your basement, Miss Prim?”

“The only thing I can think of, Detective, is that he somehow got into the cottage while Lorraine and I were out searching for him.
I don’t understand how, though. I recently changed all the locks, and there were no signs of a break-in. Also, the secret door in the kitchen was closed tight, and the wooden star that’s used to spring the door open wasn’t in its indentation. I suppose Lucian could have pulled the door closed behind him, but I don’t know how the star could have been returned to the cupboard in which I keep it. And I’m absolutely sure the door was closed before I left the cottage.”

“I need to take a
much
closer look at your basement, Miss Prim,” Dawes had replied. “But I’m exhausted and not capable of clear thought right now. The key thing is that Lucian’s back. I’ll stop by later or tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep.”

“If there’s anything further I can do to help,
Detective, please let me know. I hate to ask the same question over and over, but I don’t suppose there’s been any progress on discovering our victim’s identity?”

“None whatsoever. We’re at a complete dead end. And I
still
don’t have the M.E.’s report, so we don’t even know the official cause of death yet. Everything takes way too long because we’re so understaffed.”

After seeing
Lorraine, Lucian, and Detective Dawes off, Miss Prim had brewed herself a cup of chamomile. She’d been feeling stimulated, perhaps even nerved up, by the evening’s events, and she thought a cuppa would help her fall back asleep. The chamomile had worked its usual magic, and she’d risen later than usual, feeling grateful that Lucian’s disappearance had been followed so quickly by his return. However, the fact that he could find his way into her locked house, and somehow get past her vigilant watchdog, remained unnerving.