Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My!

by Penny Clover Petersen

  Rose found two more hardbacks from Worthington’s collection sitting in the backroom. “Looks like Hazel unpacked them, but forgot to shelve them.”

  She put thoughts of investigation out of her mind and went through the shop putting together a collection of mysteries, biographies, novels, and even a couple of do-it-yourself hardware, gardening and cooking books.

  “I’m guessing that the residents are encouraged to have hobbies or learn trades. I would hope so, wouldn’t you?” she asked Roscoe who was watching everything she did with great interest. “I’ll just make a list of these for your mom and then I’ll go and let you get back to your nap.”

  Rose made a list of the titles and prices and put it next to the cash register. She rubbed Roscoe’s head and put him back on his bed. But he seemed reluctant to let her leave. He followed her to the door weaving in and out of her legs, finally stretching up and nosing her fingers.

  “Are you lonely in here? I’ll bet you are. Maybe I’ll bring Malcolm over to play one day soon.”

  Apparently, Roscoe was no fool. The mention of Malcolm sent him back into hiding. Rose turned out the overhead lights leaving a small lamp lit on the counter for the cat, locked the door and took her finds home.

  “What did you bring me? Good stuff?” asked Daisy. It was six-thirty, the shop was closed and Angela, Daisy and Rose were having pizza and beer.

  “I only found two more books from Worthington’s collection. I haven’t looked through them. I was saving that for you.

  “But you know what was weird? The attic was locked. I can’t ever remember Hazel locking it. It certainly wasn’t locked the day she was broken into. Remember, Tom just went upstairs with no problem. I wonder why.”

  Daisy suggested, “Maybe she moved the really good books up there and doesn’t want the cat getting in. I’ve heard that for some reason a lot of cats like to pee on books. Which makes it very odd that so many bookstores seem to have cats.”

  “I imagine bookstore cats are only in mystery stories. Hazel’s is the only actual store with a resident cat that I can think of.

  “I’ll bet the rest of the Worthington estate stuff is in that attic. I’d love to see what else is in those boxes.” Rose flipped through the books, but didn’t find anything. “Shoot! Nothing!”

  Daisy said, “Wait a minute. The other notes were really stuck into the pages. If my third grade teacher could see me do this, she’d have a hissy fit,” as she took each book, held it by the front cover and shook it.

  Three pieces of paper floated gently to the floor. Daisy picked them up and put them next to the others. One was a page from an appointment calendar and the other a page torn out of what looked like a small binder. The last was a receipt from Winston’s Tailors.

  Daisy picked up the sheet from the calendar and said, “Well, he certainly wasn’t living the high life on November 11, 1998. All he had on for that day was a Trustees meeting at two p.m. But he underlined ‘re: Christmas Gala’ and added three exclamation points after it. Maybe he was already planning something.”

  “You think?” answered Rose. “Listen to this.” Rose was holding the binder page. “It looks like he was keeping a personal diary. Let’s see. It’s dated December 13, 1998.

  ‘Dinner with Helen was excellent. But that idiot woman was outside the restaurant and actually tried to get into the car with us. I’ll call Lionel in the morning and see what we can do. The restraining order isn’t restraining her. I hate to put her in jail, but this has got to stop. How the hell did she know where we were dining?

  ‘Plans are coming together. Wednesday should be interesting. The governor and a gang of Maryland bigwigs will be there. Security is a joke once everyone is in. With a guest list like this, why not? Just goes to show, you can’t trust anyone!’

  “This is good stuff. I wonder how it got in this book. And I wonder where the rest of the diary is,” mused Daisy.

  Angela sipped her wine thoughtfully and said, “I think it’s in the attic with the rest of the books Hazel bought. I’m sure these books must be from his personal library.”

  Rose said, “I think you’re right. They must be. And I doubt the police would have looked through them very thoroughly when they searched Worthington’s home. Nobody would think to go through a bunch of old books to look for a missing diamond pendant the size of Rhode Island. I’m betting that diary just got thrown in with the rest.”

  “Hazel told me she hadn’t been through the Worthington boxes since the break-in. She probably just shoved everything back in and took them to the attic. These must have been misplaced when she was cleaning up,” said Daisy. “That break-in is an odd thing, too. Think about it. If Ted Williamson was responsible for the break-ins…”

  Rose said, “And the police are sure he was.”

  “Then it’s odd that he didn’t do any damage to any other store. But he totally trashed Hazel’s. I wonder why he wrecked her shop.”

  “That is a puzzle. Maybe he just snapped. Let’s face the fact that anyone who lived like he did must be a few figs short of a Newton. Who knows? Perhaps the cat scared him,” answered Angela. “What I want to know is how we can get a look at the things in Hazel’s attic.”

  “Why not just ask her?” asked Rose.

  “We could. But she’d want to know why and do we want everybody and her mother looking for this thing? One person has already been killed and Marc’s in the hospital. And I think it’s all to do with that diamond.”

  “OMG,” cried Angela. “I feel another midnight B&E coming on!”

  “Well, maybe not. Let’s think this through. We can come up with some other idea,” said Rose.

  The three sat there thinking. There were a lot of “ums”, “wells”, and “maybe we coulds” that trailed off to nothing.

  Finally Rose said, “How would we do it? You don’t have a key this time.”

  Daisy thought a minute. “There’s a shed in the back under an attic window. We could try that. If the window is locked then we just give the thing up. If it’s unlocked, what could it hurt?”

  Rose said, “What could it hurt? We could get caught. How embarrassing would that be? Not to mention going to jail.

  “I can’t believe that just a month ago I was a happy, dog-free, law abiding citizen who would never have thought of breaking into other people’s shops or hiding things from the police.

  “Now, I’m the owner of a neurotic, hump-mobile and I’m actually contemplating breaking into a good friend’s store. I mean, really, this is nuts! Break-ins were what started all this mess!”

  “Things change,” said Daisy. “You were a law abiding citizen because you never really had a reason not to be. And it’s not as if we are really law unabiding.

  “Marc wanted me to find the stuff in that door. That’s why he left that clue. And why he gave me a key and the alarm code.

  “As for Hazel’s, we’re just going to look through those boxes of books. And we’re not telling her for her own good. We don’t want her to be the next victim,” reasoned Daisy. “It’s really more of a public service.”

  “That’s rich! Face it. We’re all just plain nosy.”

  Angela chirped, “I’ve never said I was anything else. I love a little mystery and don’t see why we shouldn’t try to solve this one.”

  Rose shook her head. “Daisy, when exactly were you planning this little escapade? It’s not like we have a ton of free time. We have a million things to do around here and Mother wants to take the books out to Baltimore before Christmas. I was hoping we could make it a day out. Take the books and then visit the Maryland Historical Society museum. Kind of put a face to the story of the Fleur de Lis.”

  “That’s a great idea. Tonya said she would like as many hours as possible and I think she can handle the shop for a day.”

  Daisy went over to the computer and brought up the calendar for December. “Let’s see. Looks like Monday and Tuesday are pretty open.

  “Mother, you wanted to do some shopping rig
ht? And we both want to get over to the hospital to see Marc. Why don’t we do that on Monday?

  “And we could go to Baltimore on Tuesday. We’ll go to the museum and have lunch. Come home and check out Hazel’s attic Tuesday night. She has a computer class on Tuesdays, so she’ll close early. What do you think?”

  Rose shrugged her shoulders. “I think we’re nuts and I just hope Mother won’t be going to Baltimore to bring books to us in the near future.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tuesday was chilly, but the December sun shone mildly. A gentle breeze sent the barest quiver through the bare branches of the elms. It was starting to feel like Christmas.

  The trunk of Rose’s Prius was full of books and shopping bags filled with warm socks, gloves, and underwear for the thirty inmates of The Doorway. As they drove north on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway Rose told her mother about a party she and Daisy were planning.

  “Daisy and I were talking yesterday and we decided to have a cocktail party Friday evening for the shop owners. Something very casual. We’ll have it in the store since we haven’t decorated the apartment. With all that’s been happening, I think we need something to lighten the mood.”

  Angela jumped on the idea. “What fun! I can make hors d’euvres and maybe a Yule log cake. I saw Julia Child make one on her show years ago.”

  Suddenly the tree lined parkway gave way to smoke stacks and overpasses. They were entering Baltimore.

  Rose said, “Daisy, read me those directions I printed out.”

  Daisy grabbed the sheet and said, “Why don’t you have a GPS?”

  “I’m old-fashioned. Where do I go?”

  “This says we make a slight right on Russell.”

  “Slight right? How slight? What heck is a slight right? Can I do it from this lane? What are we looking for after Russell? Left or right lane?”

  “I think you’d better get into the right for now. We’re supposed to merge onto Martin Luther King.”

  “Oops, sorry guy behind me,” chirped Rose as she swung in to the far right lane and did a little finger wave at the poor sap behind her. He gave her a single finger wave and a blast on the horn in return.

  “Same to you, if you’re going to be like that,” shouted Rose.

  “With bells on!” added Daisy. “Look, there’s MLK. Can this be right? Where is Russell Street? I hate stupid computer directions! I’m giving you a Magellan for Christmas,” cried Daisy.

  Traffic was thick, but Rose managed to merge onto Martin Luther King without hitting anything, drove a couple of blocks and turned right onto St. Paul Street. Driving slowly past row houses of red brick and sandstone they finally spotted The Doorway.

  A parking place opened up right in front.

  “Luck is with us,” said Daisy as she and Angela got out of the car and climbed up the steps of the old townhouse.

  “Of course, it is. We have pure hearts,” answered Angela with complete sincerity as she rang the bell.

  A young man came to the door and Angela introduced herself and explained why they had come. He helped her carry the bags in, handed her some pamphlets and a receipt for the donation. “Thanks for this. It’s much appreciated.”

  “No, thank you. You’re doing a wonderful thing here,” said Angela giving him hug. “Just wonderful!”

  They got back in the car and Rose said, “All righty then, one job down. One to go. Where to now? Museum or lunch?”

  Daisy said, “I think the museum is on Monument Street just a couple of blocks from here. And it’s a little early for lunch. We made better time than I thought we would.”

  “Okay, history it is.”

  Following the MapQuest directions, they found the Maryland Historical Society a few minutes later. They parked and entered through glass doors that opened to very modern, light and airy hall. A pleasant man whose name tag said he was Jim Webb sold them tickets and explained the set up of the museum.

  “Could you tell us where the Maryland Fleur de Lis was exhibited?” asked Daisy.

  “Gee, I haven’t thought about that in years. I started here just before it went missing. That diamond was something to see, all right.

  “That was a terrible thing. It was only on display for a few weeks each year in a little alcove near The Star Spangled Banner exhibit. Had its own security system and a guard was on duty during open hours.

  “Of course, at the gala the custom was for one of the Calvert ladies to wear it sometime in the evening. Kind of show it off, I guess. That’s when it must have been taken.

  “I wasn’t here that night, but I was told that the lights kept going out. I do remember that the weather that night had been pretty crazy and there had been freak thunderstorms all evening, so no one thought anything of it. Until Mrs. Calvert-Lambert let out a scream they heard all the way over on the other side of Baltimore.

  “What a mess it was. Shocking! The museum closed for days while they searched the place. No one’s seen it since as far as I know,” he said shaking his head. “We actually have a portrait of Jane Lowe wearing the Fleur de Lis on display right now.”

  “Wonderful! Who was she, exactly?” asked Angela.

  “The second wife of Charles Calvert, the third Lord Baltimore. Just follow the map in the brochure. If you have any questions, there are plenty of docents you can ask.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure we’ll be fine. See you in a while.”

  “‘Nipper’s Toyland’. Oh, let’s take a look,” Angela said as she moved into the first room they came to. It was filled with beautiful old toys. Doll houses, games, tea sets and porcelain dolls lined the shelves around the room.

  “I think some of these dolls are down right spooky. Look at that one! If I had to look at that face going to sleep, I’d have nightmares for a month,” Daisy said pointing to a doll with thick brown eyebrows and weird, wiry hair.

  Angela was looking at a small, blond haired doll in a blue dress. “This one’s beautiful. I think I had a doll like this when I was little. I wonder where it is.

  “And look at this! It’s a real miniature piano. How charming,” she said wistfully. “I think I could have learned to play if I had had a piano like this.” The piano was about eighteen inches high, beautifully carved oak with a matching bench.

  “Didn’t Nana and Granddaddy have a baby grand?”

  “Well, come to think of it, yes, they did. I wonder why I couldn’t learn on that.”

  They took their time in the toy room and then followed the map over to the Maryland History exhibit. The history of Maryland was on display from stone pottery and tools of prehistoric times to original Eubie Blake ragtime scores.

  “This is fascinating! Back here, come see the Star Spangled Banner,” called Rose.

  She was looking at the original manuscript written by Francis Scott Key. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light,” trilled Angela hand on heart. Then she stopped and said in a dramatic voice, “A very difficult song to sing and it sounds a lot better at a baseball game!”

  Not ten feet from the manuscript Daisy found a small alcove where a Revolutionary War uniform was displayed.

  “I’ll bet this is where the pendant was on display. I wonder how he did it. Where could he possibly hide something that big in here?”

  The room was bare except for the exhibits, most of which were in locked cases. No little recessed alcoves with tapestries hanging over concealed doors. No floor vents for the heating. Not even a water fountain to stick it behind.

  “I don’t think he could have hidden it in this room. He must have put it somewhere else in the gallery. Where to next? How do we get upstairs?” asked Rose.

  They made their way upstairs and meandered through an alcove housing a fantastic collection of silver teapots and tableware, past the library, and into a small room with quilts displayed on the walls.

  “These are beautiful and, see, they each tell a story,” said Angela as she inspected each quilt. �
�Look at the stitching! And the colors. Just gorgeous. I think I could do this. What do you think?”

  “I think I see quilting in your future,” said Rose.

  Daisy whispered, “Well, actually I think you see quilting lessons and fabric and patterns. I’m not sure I see an actual quilt!”

  They wandered through several rooms looking for the Jane Lowe. Angela saw it first. “There she is!”

  She was staring at the portrait of a young woman in a rich brocade gown with puffy sleeves and a long bodice. Around her neck hung an enormous diamond pendant.

  “This is it. Jane Lowe, Lady Baltimore. Oh, my Lord, look at it. I’m surprised she can hold her head up!”

  The three of them stood staring at the painting until Daisy said, “Well, this was worth the trip. Seeing it on her makes it real. I mean there really is a pendant, a piece of history. And nobody knows where it is.”

  Rose said, “Well, I think somebody is trying to find out. And that somebody is willing to kill to get it.”

  “Boy, Rose, you are a downer. I refuse to ruin this day thinking about murder. Let’s hit the gift shop,” answered Daisy.

  The day was catching up with them and they were tired by the time they got out of Baltimore. They stopped for lunch at a little Italian restaurant north of Laurel and had manicotti and a glass of Chianti. They splurged and shared Tiramisu and Biscuit Tortoni for dessert.

  At eleven o’clock that night Daisy and Rose were ready to go. Angela was staying behind. “It’s too cold and, much as I hate to say this, you’re not as young as you used to be,” said Rose.

  “You’re right. I’d only get in your way.” Angela looked a little wistful for a moment, but perked up. “I’ve got it. I’ll be your lookout.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Mother,” said Daisy. The Book Renew sat at the corner of Azalea and Market, facing Market. Angela had a good view of the back of the second floor of the shop, the side door and, of course, the street.

  “Rose put your cell on vibrate and Malcolm and I will keep watch. I’ll call if we see anyone coming. Only when you answer, don’t talk. I’ll just whisper what I see.”