The Merchant of Menace jj-10

by Jill Churchill

  “What an irritating woman," Mel groused. "Oh? I sort of like her," Jane said.

  “Do you think she's truthful?"

  “I don't know her well enough to guess. What were you asking her about?"

  “Her movements and Lance King's work habits."

  “Hard to think of what he did as work," Shelley put in. "What did she say?”

  Mel got up and poured himself some coffee. "She says he was very secretive about what he was investigating. She now remembers that he kept all his notes on computer disks, never put anything on the hard drive at his office or on his laptop. I wish she'd remembered that sooner. There were no documents on the laptop. Only his bookkeeping and some games."

  “Games?" Jane asked. "He's the last person in the world I'd have expected to play any kind of games.”

  Mel ignored this observation. "I have a man checking his office computer, but it sounds like he's going to come up empty, too, if Ginger's right. She says he always kept his current disk on his person, but he didn't have it when he was found in the Johnsons' front yard."

  “Somebody stole it?" Jane asked.

  “Maybe," Mel said. "Or forced him to hand it over before pushing him off the roof."

  “So whatever he was threatening to reveal about somebody is gone," Jane said. "I can't say I'm exactly sorry to hear that.”

  Shelley said, "But that means it's in someone else's hands. Someone who is capable of killing another person. Maybe somebody who's unethical enough to use the information King had on other people.”

  Eleven

  “Jane, get a large sheet of paper, would you?" Mel asked. "I need you and Shelley to map out this block.”

  The only big sheet of paper Jane could find was the back of a piece of Christmas wrapping. "So you want a box for each house?" she asked, already sketching out squares.

  “Number them, if you can," Mel said. "Ooh," Shelley said. "We're doing police work on Santa wrapping.”

  Mel glared at her. "Not exactly," he said. "Just helping me get my bearings.”

  Jane had completed her boxes. "Mel, this one's vacant. The owners were transferred to Seattle before it sold." She put an X in the box and glanced at him.

  He just nodded, still cranky about Shelley's remark.

  Jane went on. "There are three older couples who couldn't come because they were going to be out of town visiting their children and grandchildren over the holidays."

  “You're sure they were actually gone?" Mel asked.

  “No, maybe not, but that's what they told me. I suppose it's possible they just made that up as an excuse, but it's not likely. The people in this house had tickets for the family to go to a musical last night," she said, entering another X. "And this one belongs to a couple of revoltingly fit yuppies who are spending the holidays in Bermuda. This one is Mrs. Eldridge, who was committed to have her bridge club at her house last night. I think those are most of the 'regrets' I got."

  “Okay, now let's talk about who did come to the party and when."

  “Well, the Johnsons, of course."

  “The hillbillies next door?" Mel asked. "Were they here between eight-thirty and nine-thirty?”

  “Why the times?"

  “At eight-thirty I was watching Todd walk the little girl home," Mel said. "I looked at the Johnsons' decorations. No sign of a dead Santa and I'm sure I'd have noticed if there had been a struggle going on up on the roof."

  “And at nine-thirty Julie discovered him," Jane added. "I see. I think the Johnsons were here the whole time. Billy Joe couldn't even walk through the house in his snowman costume without knocking things down. I can't imagine how he could have climbed a ladder in that outfit."

  “Unless he removed it," Shelley said.

  “Looked to me like it would have taken a helper to get him in and out of it," Jane said. "Didn't it button up the back? I think he and Tiffany were just too obvious to have sneaked out without being noticed."

  “Why were they in costumes?" Mel asked. Jane shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe wherever they're from, a party always means a costume party. They obviously have a touch of exhibitionism about them, too, as you can tell from the house decorations."

  “Okay, let's go house by house on the rest. Start at the corner."

  “That's a couple with little kids who were, fortunately, at their grandparents' for the night or they might have brought them along. Terrors, those kids," Jane added. "One of them was actually kicked out of kindergarten for—"

  “Jane!" Mel said sharply. "I don't care what the kid did in kindergarten. Were the couple here during the relevant time?"

  “Yes, she was part of the crowd watching the movie. She has a real shrill laugh that I kept hearing. And he was in the basement with the guys.”

  Mel was taking notes. "Names?" he asked, and wrote down her reply. "Your basement doesn't have an outside entrance, does it?”

  Jane shook her head. "You've seen my basement, Mel. No outside exit. Shelley, who were the other guys in the basement?”

  Shelley reeled off a couple names, which Mel wrote down along with the rest of the movie-watching crowd. Jane marked off the book rep who'd been gossiping with Mel's mother, a single mother who brought along her new baby and wouldn't even let anyone else hold it, and a skier with a broken leg and crutches. They'd accounted for about three-quarters of the people on the block.

  Mel ran his hand through his hair. "We'll have to confirm all of them, but at least I know who's at the bottom of the priority list. Now, what about the others? Whose house is this empty box?"

  “Oh, that's our Julie Newton. The dim bulb who caused all this," Jane said.

  “You know where Julie was during that hour?"

  “Up in my bedroom calling security people," Jane said, embarrassed now by that loony idea.

  “Your bedroom overlooks the Johnson' house, doesn't it?" Mel said.

  “Yes, I could see the top of the ladder poking up— Mel, you don't suspect Julie, do you?"

  “Jane, my job is to suspect everyone. Do you know she was there? Could she have seen Lance King climbing the ladder?"

  “I–I guess so. And she told me she couldn't get any security people to come out. I have no way of knowing if she actually called anyone or not. But Julie's such a flake!"

  “Flakes have been known to kill people," Mel said. "I want to check out your bedroom window.”

  The three of them traipsed upstairs.

  “Pretty good view in the daylight," Mel said, gazing toward the Johnson house. "And at night, with all the decorations lit up — there aren't any in the backyard, though. Is there a floodlight in back?”

  Jane nodded. "My bedroom is lit up like a carnival at night from that window.”

  There was a light tap on the door and Addie walked in. "Oh," she said with mock surprise — which she didn't do very well. "I didn't know Mel was here," she said.

  “And so am I, Mrs. VanDyne," Shelley said, coming out of Jane's bathroom where she'd been checking out the view from another window. Her grin was wicked.

  Jane almost laughed. Addie must have heard them come upstairs and was checking out just what Mel was doing in Jane's bedroom in the middle of the morning.

  Mel, of course, didn't get it. "Oh, hi, Mom. I thought you were sleeping in.”

  She laughed patronizingly. "You know I never sleep late. I'm so used to being up early to work.”

  Was that a dig at me? Jane wondered. Or am I looking for digs?

  Shelley, Mel, and Addie went back downstairs and Jane stayed behind to bang on the kids' bedroom doors, alerting them that it was time to get up. If she let them start sleeping late this early in the vacation, they'd be staying up all night and keeping her awake.

  When she rejoined the others in the kitchen, Mel and Shelley were sitting across from each other at the table, not speaking. It was a vaguely ominous silence.

  “Mel's asking about Bruce Pargeter," Shelley said.

  “Oh," Jane said, remembering the horrifying story of the sink
hole that he'd told them. She quickly weighed her options. Bruce hadn't sworn them to secrecy, nor would she have kept a secret that might have unraveled a murder. On the other hand, Bruce had implied that his family's story wasn't something he wanted spread around and she didn't want to spill it in front of Addie. It simply wasn't any of her business. Or anybody else's unless it was relevant to Mel's investigation.

  She took a deep breath and said, "Mel, Bruce told us something about an experience he had with Lance King. I'm sure he'll tell you if you ask him. But I don't think Shelley and I have any right to blab about it unless he refuses to talk to you.”

  Addie, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, spoke up. "Jane, my son is a detective investigating a serious crime — the murder of a man who had been in your house only a few minutes before his death. You haven't any right to withhold information from him.”

  Jane felt a violent flush crawling up her neck and heard Shelley's sharp intake of breath. But Mel saved them.

  “Mom, Jane is being honorable. As she always is. Which is one of the many reasons I love her.”

  Jane started to get teary. Addie, however, gasped and turned pale at the word "love." She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut, set her coffee cup down with exaggerated care, and marched out of the room and upstairs.

  “She didn't know?" Shelley asked.

  “I don't know how she couldn't," Mel said, confused by his mother's storm of emotion, repressed as it was.

  Shelley mouthed, "Men!" and Jane smiled. Mel wasn't fretting about his mother. He'd gone back to their map of the block. "Who's here? Oh, the little girl. What's her name?”

  “Pet. Patricia Dwyer," Jane said.

  “Why weren't her parents here? Or did they leave earlier?"

  “Her father's a widower. Does something with computers and was working under a deadline, I guess. He didn't bother to respond to my invitation. Just didn't show up."

  “She wasn't going home to an empty house, was she?" Mel asked, alarmed.

  “No, she said he was working at home. I don't know if he has an office outside his house or not. He's terribly careful of her. That's why she has to be walked home after dark with an adult watching. And she can't accept rides. He even does those braids she wears. He's going to have a rough time when her hormones and independence kick in. He must be a good dad, but he's not much of a neighbor."

  “I think maybe he's just awfully shy," Shelley said. "Sometimes shy people seem arrogant and aloof when they're really not."

  “Didn't Suzie say she knew something about him?" Jane asked. "You might ask her about him.”

  Mel didn't seem too interested. He was studying his list. "I'm afraid of your friend Suzie," he said with a preoccupied half-smile. "Did you say she was in the basement with the men?"

  “Naturally," Shelley said with a smile.

  “And there's Ginger, of course, who isn't on the map," he mumbled as he fought to roll up the wrapping paper map. It had silly-looking Santas on other side. Jane wondered why she'd ever bought it. It's appropriate, in a way, she thought, but he's sure going to look ridiculous having it on his office desk.

  “What about the rest of his television crew?" Jane asked. "They had to spend a lot of time taking orders from him. He couldn't have been a pleasant person to work with."

  “Three of them, and they alibi each other. Having coffee and doughnuts at the convenience store. The clerk said their van, which is pretty noticeable, was sitting in the lot the whole time. And none was foolish enough to pretend to have liked Lance. That would have made me suspicious.”

  Shelley was frowning. "I'm not so sure it has to be someone in the neighborhood. Nobody but Julie, Jane, and I knew she'd invited him. And he was promptly uninvited."

  “Yes, but you know what a blabbermouth Julie is," Jane said. "She probably called all her friends on the block and carried on about her celebrity coup before she even dropped the bomb on me. And she's unlikely to have called them back to tell them I'd made her retract the invitation.”

  Mel stood up and gathered his paperwork. "I'm off to see your Mr. Pargeter."

  “Good," Jane said cheerfully. "I have another party to hostess today."

  “I guess I should tell Mom good-bye," Mel said.

  “Is your furnace fixed yet?" Jane asked, rather pointedly, she feared.

  “I don't know. Why do you ask? Mom's not being a nuisance, is she?”

  “Oh, no. Not at all," Jane said with a false smile.

  When he'd gone, Shelley said thoughtfully, "I think the Bible's wrong."

  “The Bible?"

  “Sure, the story is that God made Eve out of Adam's rib. I think God made Eve out of Adam's brains, which accounts for why men are men.”

  Jane laughed. "She's his mother, Shelley!

  Name me one man who can see through his mother."

  “I can't. And you'd do well to keep that in mind.”

  Twelve

  The kids finally stirred themselves, slouched · downstairs, and messed up the kitchen fixing themselves breakfasts of varying degrees of sloppiness. Jane made Todd clean up the milk mess he'd made with his cereal, Katie the cookie crumbs, and Mike the granola bar wrapper. She'd done enough cleaning, washing up, and putting away last night after the caroling party that nothing remained to do before the cookie party except a little random tidying up. Jane vacuumed while Shelley put a fresh cloth on the dining room table. The kids had disappeared and Addie had not come back downstairs.

  Jane and Shelley sat down in the living room. "If I had any sense, I'd be frantic at this point," Jane said.

  “No need. Everything's under control."

  “That's what's scary. It's the time everything seems to be under control that the plumbing backs up and the furnace goes out. It's a rule."

  “Speaking of furnaces, and Mel's in particular," Shelley said, lowering her voice, "how longdo you think you're going to have dear Addie here?"

  “Not long, I hope. I want to like her, Shelley, and I just can't. She did a good job raising Mel, and I've got to admire her for that, but—"

  “She doesn't want to let go of him?"

  “That's my guess. Or maybe she just disapproves of me. And with good reason. I'm a couple years older than he is, I've got one grown-up son and two teenagers and no job, let alone a successful career or social position or any of the things women like in a daughter-in-law. You couldn't blame her for thinking I'm just looking for a husband to support me and help me with the kids and college tuition and all."

  “Are you looking for a husband?" Shelley asked.

  Jane stared at her. "Shelley, you astonish me. You're usually telling me what I think, not asking."

  “So, I'm asking."

  “I'm not looking for any old husband. These years since Steve died have been some of the best in my life. Well, that's got a lot to do with Steve's personality, I guess. But I'm pretty happy with things just the way they are and don't much miss washing a man's Jockey shorts and sorting his socks. I like having the closet and all the drawers in my bedroom to myself and having a collection of books I'm reading all over the bed. It used to make Steve wild to crawl into bed and discover an Agatha Christie under his pillow.”

  Shelley's attention had wandered. "What are those strange noises upstairs?"

  “Probably Mike moving stuff around. Or Katie rearranging her room for the eightieth time. Do you think we dare actually go out to lunch? The guests won't arrive until two. We could make it back in plenty of time to get the coffee started."

  “I guess we'll have to invite Addie along," Shelley said glumly.

  Jane sighed. "I guess so. With any luck, she'll turn us down.”

  Jane went upstairs and tapped lightly on the door to the sewing room. "Addie? Shelley and I are going to lunch and I wondered—”

  She stopped speaking as Addie opened the door.

  Jane came down a few minutes later, walking hard on her heels. "Let's go. Now," she said grimly.

  Shelley knew the d
anger signs and quickly shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat. A moment later, as they were getting into Shelley's car, which was parked in her driveway, Pet Dwyer tapped on Jane's window. Jane yelped with surprise and opened it.

  “Mrs. Jeffry, you've having your cookie party today, aren't you?"

  “I am," Jane said, "but I'm afraid kids aren't invited."

  “But is my dad invited?”

  Jane thought for a second. The neighborhood cookie parties had traditionally been girly-girly affairs, but times had changed. Pet's dad was just as much a single, stay-at-home parent as Jane herself was.

  “Well, of course, Pet. I'm very sorry I didn't think to invite him sooner. We're just leaving, but I'll stop and ask him on the way."

  “You don't need to. I'll tell him. He'll bring his fudge. He's making it now."

  “If you'd rather, that would be fine," Jane said. She knew she should issue the belated invitation herself, but she was still too shaken by her recent encounter with Addie to take on another difficult person.

  Pet waited safely and patiently while Shelley backed up in her usual hell-for-leather driving style. "I wonder if the idea of asking for an invitation was Pet's or her dad's?" Shelley said when they were on their way.

  “Huh? Oh, good question," Jane said, preoccupied. "Sounds like it might have been his, since she said he was already making fudge. I really should have invited him without Pet prodding me to be polite.”

  They didn't speak again until they reached a little neighborhood Chinese restaurant that was one of their favorite spots to eat. It was barely eleven-fifteen and they were the first and only customers as yet. Luncheon was a buffet that was just being set out. Shelley ordered jasmine tea for both of them, then leaned forward and said, "Spill the beans, kiddo. What are you so pissed about?"

  “She rearranged the sewing room. Actually moved the bed to the other wall and put the sewing table in front of the window."

  “Addie moved a bed?"

  “It's just a flimsy little bed and it's on rollers. But that's not the point. It's my house. My sew‑ ing room. I don't care that there's better light for sewing nearer the window. I had it like I liked it. I can't believe a woman of her sophistication would think that was acceptable guest behavior!"