‘‘Sorry,’’ Marylou said, laughing a little. ‘‘I guess I’m too excited.’’
Sophie shut the door behind us and then pointed to the sofa. ‘‘Sit down, and start talking.’’
I made myself comfortable on the sofa, while Marylou sat down at the other end. Sophie pulled a chair close and plopped down in it.
‘‘Okay,’’ I said, ‘‘this will take a little while, so just bear with me.’’
Once again, I launched into my story about the clue of the diamond queen. I gave them the long version of the history of playing cards, and they didn’t interrupt me or look skeptical the way Deputy Jordan had earlier.
I wasn’t sure how long I talked, but by the time I finished, my throat was dry. ‘‘I need some water,’’ I said, starting to get up. I shifted on the sofa, putting my hands down on the cushions as I did so. My left hand slipped into the gap between the cushion and the arm of the sofa, and it encountered something slick and stiff.
‘‘Don’t get up,’’ Sophie said, jumping up from her chair. ‘‘I’ll get you some water.’’
‘‘Thanks,’’ I said. My fingers closed around the object. It was thin and pliable, and I realized what it was before I pulled it loose from its resting place.
It was a playing card. I stared at the familiar design on the back of it, a card from a Bicycle deck. I turned it over. It was the king of spades.
What on earth was it doing in our sofa?
Chapter 24
A knock sounded on our door, and almost without thought, I shoved the king of spades back into its hiding place in the sofa.
Marylou had seen the card in my hand and started to ask me about it, but I shook my head.
The knocking started again, and this time a voice called out, ‘‘Yoo-hoo! Anyone in there?’’
It was Paula Trowbridge, and Marylou got up from the sofa to answer the door.
Sophie came back with a glass of water for me, and I smiled my thanks before taking a sip. In the meantime my mind was busy trying to decide whether the presence of that card in the sofa had any significance. I needed to examine it more closely, but that would have to wait.
‘‘I’m so glad you’re all here,’’ Paula said, practically bounding into the room. ‘‘I have such wonderful news.’’ Her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks flushed becomingly.
‘‘Have a seat, dear, and tell us all about it,’’ Marylou said, guiding Paula to the spot she had just occupied on the sofa.
Paula sat, but she was so excited she bounced a little. Marylou found a chair and brought it close, while Sophie resumed her seat. I sipped at my water and eyed Paula with great interest.
‘‘Oh, it’s just the most wonderful news,’’ Paula said. In my brief acquaintance with her I had never seen her in an ebullient mood like this.
‘‘You already said that,’’ Sophie told her in a slightly damping tone.
Paula didn’t notice. ‘‘It’s Basil,’’ she said. She looked from one to the other of us, swiveling her head slightly in order to include Marylou.
‘‘What about Basil?’’ Marylou asked.
‘‘It’s just so thrilling,’’ Paula said. If her voice went any higher, every dog in the area would soon converge on our suite.
‘‘Calm down,’’ Marylou said, her voice stern. ‘‘You’re just babbling. Settle down, and tell us what this is all about.’’
Paula grimaced, but she made a visible effort to comply with Marylou’s commands. ‘‘Basil wants me to marry him.’’ Again, she looked at each of us in turn, no doubt expecting hearty congratulations or other expressions of joy.
‘‘I’m sure that makes you very happy,’’ Marylou said, and Sophie and I chimed in with our congratulations.
‘‘Thank you,’’ Paula said, and if she noticed our less-than-enthusiastic reception of her news, she didn’t give any signs. ‘‘But there’s more.’’ She paused, simpering at each of us in turn.
‘‘Yes,’’ I said, ‘‘what else?’’ If one of us didn’t play along, we might be sitting here for hours. Honestly, she was like a child with a big secret to tell.
‘‘Basil’s been offered the most wonderful deal,’’ Paula said, squirming ecstatically. ‘‘He’s going to take over a nationally syndicated bridge column. The man who’s been doing it for forever had to stop doing it for health reasons, and they called Basil today to ask him if he would do it. And he said yes.’’
‘‘I’m sure that’s very exciting for him,’’ Sophie said.
‘‘Please be sure to offer him our congratulations,’’ Marylou said.
‘‘Oh, you can tell him yourself,’’ Paula said, giggling. ‘‘He should be here any minute, along with the champagne.’’
‘‘Champagne?’’ I asked. ‘‘Is he bringing champagne?’’
‘‘No, silly,’’ Paula said, ‘‘the hotel is sending some up. I asked them to, because I thought we could have a little party. I wanted to celebrate, and where better to do it than with my friends?’’
I was more than a little taken aback by Paula’s assumption that we would be happy to host a party in our suite for a man we really didn’t know. Marylou and Sophie were just as surprised as I was. I also thought it was more than a bit strange to be celebrating Basil Dumont’s triumph in the suite next to a crime scene. The man’s rival had been murdered just feet away from where we were all sitting. Apparently that hadn’t occurred to Paula, or if it had, it certainly hadn’t bothered her.
‘‘Paula, dear,’’ Marylou said, ‘‘I’m not sure we’re equipped for a party.’’
‘‘It’s just champagne,’’ Paula said, waving a hand in the air. ‘‘No food or anything. Basil and I just wanted to be able to celebrate a little. After all, we couldn’t really do it in public, now, could we? That would be tacky, and what would people think?’’
‘‘Yes, indeed, what
would
people think?’’ Sophie said.
Someone knocked at the door, and this time Sophie answered it. She admitted Basil Dumont, and before she could close the door, a room service waiter appeared with an iced bottle of champagne and glasses.
The waiter wheeled the cart bearing the champagne into the room, and Basil signed for it with a flourish. As the waiter left the room, Basil turned to us with a smile. ‘‘Good afternoon, ladies. Thank you for joining in my little celebration.’’
Marylou, Sophie, and I exchanged glances. They were as disconcerted as I was by this turn of events. But what could we do? We couldn’t just throw them out of our suite.
Instead, we greeted him, and he turned his attention to the champagne. Moments later the cork popped, and Basil filled the glasses and handed us each one. Paula jumped up from the couch, almost spilling her champagne, and joined Basil standing before us.
Basil raised his glass and said, ‘‘Here’s to my own bridge column. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, and now I’ve got it. It’s really a dream come true.’’ He sipped from his glass.
Marylou, Sophie, and I murmured words of congratulations, but he was so wrapped up in self-satisfaction that he really paid little attention to us. Paula stared at him with adoring eyes, and she bolted back most of her champagne before seizing him around the neck and giving him a vigorous hug.
Basil disentangled himself from his former wife— none too gently in my opinion—and refilled his glass. ‘‘This really is a fantastic opportunity for me,’’ he told us. ‘‘This means my name will be in thousands of newspapers all across the country. And the more my name is out there, the more opportunities I’ll have. I’ll finally be on the A-list for cruises, and it should help me internationally as well.’’ He drank from his glass.
‘‘That’s wonderful for you,’’ Marylou said. Sophie and I nodded.
Paula had wilted a bit, and her lower lip trembled. ‘‘Basil, darling, that’s not
all
the good news.’’
‘‘Hmm? What do you mean?’’ Puzzled, he stared at her. Then realization hit him. ‘‘Oh, of course, how silly of me.’’ He turned to face Marylou, Sophie, and me. ‘‘Paula and I are to be married again.’’
He said the words with an obvious effort at enthusiasm, but I didn’t think he was very convincing. Sophie and I exchanged glances. Paula, however, seemed oblivious as usual. She brightened visibly once Basil had spoken.
‘‘Isn’t it wonderful?’’ Paula said. ‘‘I’m so happy. Basil and I really belong together, you know.’’
‘‘Congratulations,’’ Marylou said, and Sophie and I added our words of felicitation.
Paula was the only one excited, however, because Basil had turned morose. Whenever Paula wasn’t looking at him, he had an odd expression on his face, like that of a trapped animal. Whenever she turned to look at him, however, he mustered up a semblance of happiness.
Conversation lagged. I had no idea what else to say to the supposedly happy couple, nor did Sophie. Even Marylou, who had known Paula a long time, couldn’t seem to come up with anything to say. What had begun as bizarre became more and more painfully surreal.
Paula burbled on for a couple of minutes about all the things that she and Basil would be doing together, while Basil grew more and more fidgety. He took advantage of one of Paula’s few pauses for breath and said, ‘‘Paula, I’m afraid I have to get back downstairs. I really should be on hand if anyone needs me.’’ He set his empty glass on the cart beside the champagne bucket.
‘‘Oh, sure,’’ Paula said, frowning. ‘‘I forgot all about that. I guess I was just so excited, I forgot you’re actually working.’’ She put her glass alongside Basil’s and turned to us. ‘‘Thank you so much for sharing this little celebration with us. It means so much to Basil and me to know our friends are happy for us.’’
Marylou got up from her chair and went to Paula, giving her a brief hug. ‘‘Of course we’re happy for you, Paula,’’ she said. ‘‘And we wish you both all the best.’’
‘‘Yes, certainly,’’ I said.
‘‘Congratulations again,’’ Sophie told them. She stood up, reached for my empty glass, and placed it along with hers on the cart.
‘‘Thank you,’’ Basil said. ‘‘Well, I must go.’’ He gave Paula an awkward pat on the shoulder, and he almost bolted from the room.
Paula stared after him, and when the door closed behind him, she turned to us with a goofy look on her face. ‘‘He’s so dedicated,’’ she sighed. ‘‘Bridge is the most important thing in the world to him.’’
Did she not realize the significance of what she said? I wondered. If she didn’t, she was completely delusional.
‘‘I’m just glad that I’ll be with him again, and I’ll do whatever I can to boost his career,’’ Paula said, smiling.
‘‘Yes, I’m sure you’ll do your best,’’ Marylou said. She wheeled the cart to the door, opened it, and thrust the cart out into the hall.
She came back and took a firm hold of Paula’s arm. ‘‘I know you’ll excuse us, dear,’’ she said as she steered her friend to the door, ‘‘but Emma, Sophie, and I need to freshen up before we go downstairs to play bridge again.’’
‘‘Oh, of course,’’ Paula said. ‘‘Well, thanks for celebrating with us.’’ She opened the door and walked out into the hall. Marylou quickly closed the door behind her. ‘‘See you later,’’ we heard Paula call.
‘‘That was certainly strange,’’ Marylou said. She resumed her place on the sofa, and Sophie sat down in her chair.
‘‘Strange doesn’t even
begin
to cover it,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘How oblivious can she be?’’
‘‘Oh, I think deep down she knows,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘She knows she comes second with Basil. Bridge is always first, but she’s willing to accept that.’’
‘‘I really do feel sorry for her,’’ I said. ‘‘But it’s her choice.’’
‘‘I’m not sure it’s Basil’s,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘Did you see the look on his face when she reminded him about their marriage?’’
‘‘That was a deer in the headlights if I ever saw one,’’ I said. ‘‘He seems stuck with her.’’
‘‘They probably deserve each other,’’ Sophie said.
‘‘Enough about them,’’ Marylou said with a touch of impatience in her voice. ‘‘What I want to know, Emma, is, what was that you found just before Paula arrived?’’
‘‘Ah,’’ I said, ‘‘yes. Hang on a minute.’’ I got up from the sofa and went to the bathroom for a tissue. Back in the living room, tissue in hand, I extracted the king of spades from the corner of the sofa. ‘‘It was this.’’ I held it up for Sophie and Marylou to see.
‘‘A card?’’ Marylou said, frowning. ‘‘How strange.’’
‘‘The king of spades,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘And what is that in the corner?’’
I turned the card so that the king faced me. I frowned. I hadn’t noticed the spot before, but I hadn’t had much time to examine it before Paula knocked on the door.
‘‘It’s reddish brown,’’ I said. ‘‘Yuck. It looks like it might be blood.’’ I laid the card down on the sofa beside me. The card was an important clue. I just wasn’t sure of its significance yet.
‘‘You don’t think . . .’’ Marylou’s voice trailed off.
I nodded. ‘‘I do think. I think this came from the deck Avery Trowbridge was using when he was murdered. ’’
Chapter 25
‘‘Then how did it get here, of all places?’’ Marylou asked me.
‘‘I’ll give you my guess,’’ Sophie said. She and I exchanged looks. I knew we were thinking the same thing.
‘‘How?’’ Marylou said.
‘‘Who was sitting on that sofa yesterday morning, where Emma is sitting now?’’ Sophie watched as comprehension slowly dawned on Marylou’s face.
‘‘Paula,’’ she said slowly.
‘‘Exactly,’’ I said.
‘‘Were you with her the whole time?’’ Sophie asked. ‘‘I went into the bedroom for a little while, and you two were on the sofa when I left and when I came back.’’
‘‘Yes,’’ Marylou said, ‘‘I went to get her some aspirin out of my bag at one point, and I brought her a glass of water with the aspirin. So I was out of the room for a couple of minutes.’’
‘‘More than time enough for her to hide the card in our sofa,’’ I said.
‘‘Yes, I can see that,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘But why are you so convinced it was Paula? I mean, why couldn’t it have been Veronica Hinkelmeier?’’
I hadn’t thought of that, and neither had Sophie. We stared at each other.
‘‘We’ve been out of the room often enough, and long enough, for her to have sneaked in with a passkey, ’’ Sophie said. ‘‘And we already know she has a grudge against Emma.’’