Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My!

by Penny Clover Petersen

  “This is such good news. Yesterday I could have sworn he was never going to come home. I feel like a load has been lifted.

  “We’ll close early today. That should give us plenty of time to set everything up. And I was going to send Tonya home early, around three, if you don’t mind. She’s been working so hard. She can have a little break before this evening.”

  “That’s fine with me. We should have plenty of time to get ready.”

  The day was going smoothly. Several breaks in the flow of customers made it easy to get other things done. A lot of the neighbors came by to chat. Hazel stopped in after lunch. “I could come by early this evening and help. I’m free today.”

  Daisy was going to say they didn’t need any help, but then she looked at Hazel and thought to herself, “She’s lonely.”

  Out loud she said, “You know, that would be great. Maybe around six-thirty? I think we’re ready to roll, but you could help with all the last minute stuff. I always underestimate the time it takes to do the little things.”

  “Well, good. I’ll be here at six thirty. Let me know if you need me to pick up anything on my way.”

  “Will do. See you then.”

  Walt dropped off the cookies they’d ordered. And Angela came by at noon on her way to the hospital with a Yule log cake and trays of canapés ready for the oven.

  “I’m thrilled about Marc. I knew my reading to him was helping. I’m off to see him now. And I’m really enjoying the Peter Wimsey short stories. I’ll be back around five. We can have a bite of dinner before the party.”

  “Perfect,” said Daisy. “Tell him I said he needs to wake up ASAP. And give him a hug from me.”

  “I will. See you at five or so.”

  At three o’clock Tom Willis came by to pick up Tonya. She and Daisy were with a customers, so he popped into the office to say hi to Rose. When he saw her, he smacked his head and said, “Damn. I printed out a lot of stuff on that woman you asked me about. I even found a blurry picture. But I left it on my desk at the station.”

  “That’s all right. It’s not really important,” said Rose. “I really appreciate you taking the time to look her up for me.”

  “No problem.”

  “Did you read through what you found? Was there any good juice?”

  Tom said, “She sounds like a big-time weirdo to me. She attacked Worthington and then went after his dogs. That part wasn’t in the newspapers. It came out at her hearing.”

  “Really? She attacked his dogs?” said Rose thoughtfully.

  Tom said, “Hey, why don’t I run back and get it for you now.”

  “No, that’s silly. It can wait.”

  Tonya finished with her customer and got her coat. As she and Tom were walking out the door Rose said, “Tom, would it be all right if I ran over to get it? Malcolm and I haven’t had a decent walk in days. It would do us both good.”

  Tom shrugged, “I don’t see why not. I’ll give Hank a call right now. He’s the guy at the front desk.”

  “You’re a good guy. Thanks.”

  Rose waited until four fifteen. She asked Daisy, “Do you mind me leaving now? I’d like to get back before dark.”

  “Go ahead. If we don’t get any customers in soon, I’m going to lock up and start making the Wassail.”

  At four thirty Daisy turned the door sign to closed and set the alarms. She was a little uneasy about being there alone. “Ghosts,” she murmured to herself. “I’m getting a little spooked.”

  It was almost five when the phone rang and Daisy jumped. She practically barked “Hello” into the receiver.

  Rose’s voice said, “I just got to the police station. Malcolm and I are stopping for a hot drink and then heading back. We won’t be long.”

  The phone rang again a few minutes later and Daisy heard Angela’s excited voice saying, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

  “You’ve got what, Mom?”

  “I know where Marc hid the Fleur de Lis.”

  “What do you mean? How do you know? Where?”

  “Margharita’s pearls were in the Christmas decorations!”

  “Mother, stop a minute. Take a breath. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  In her very best ‘talking to an idiot’ voice Angela said, “I was reading Marc The Necklace of Pearls, and I realized where he must have hidden the diamond. You see, Lord Septimus Shales had a daughter named Margharita to whom he gave a perfect pearl every year on Christmas Eve. As she was twenty-one, she now had twenty-one perfectly matching pearls that were of very great value. Lady Shales’s ne’er do well cousin George Comphrey stole Margharita’s pearls and then hid them in the mistletoe.”

  “We don’t have any mistletoe. Oh. Oh! I see. Where could Marc have hidden a big fat diamond like that?”

  “What? I can’t hear you, sweetie, you’re breaking up. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” The line went dead. Daisy stood looking at the decorations and wondering where a diamond pendant could possibly be hidden.

  The Bostwick police station was in a small strip mall a mile or so from the antiques district. When she got to the station, Rose and Malcolm spent a few minutes with Hank at the front desk discussing the weather and how nice it would be if it snowed for Christmas.

  “As a cop, I probably shouldn’t wish for snow. It means a lot of traffic problems and accidents, but it sure would be nice. We don’t get many white Christmases.”

  “No, we don’t. It would be fun to go caroling in the snow, wouldn’t it?”

  “As long as you’ve got some woolen long johns.” He looked at Malcolm who was at that minute trying desperately to mount a statue of a K9 hero that sat in the lobby. He laughed and said, “Nice dog.”

  “He is actually, just a little too affectionate some of the time.”

  “Well, let me get that envelope for you. Here it is. You and Malcolm have a good holiday.”

  “Thanks, we’ll try. I hope yours is lovely, too.”

  She took out her cell phone and said, “Okay Malcolm. I’m just going to check in with Daisy and then we’ll have a little treat. You’ve been a very good boy.”

  She made her call and then she and Malcolm left the station and went into the Starbucks next door. She ordered hot chocolate and biscotti. One of the really nice things about Bostwick was that practically everyone allowed dogs. Rose sat in a comfortable chair near the window sipping her drink with Malcolm beside her munching his biscuit.

  “We’ll just take a minute to warm up, okay buddy?”

  She opened the envelope and took out a few computer printouts. “A bit more information than the papers gave,” she said, still talking to Malcolm. “Looks like Audrey was released from Sheppard Pratt in 2000 and seems to have faded away.”

  Rose rubbed Malcolm’s head. “This picture of her really is a bit of a blur. Can’t make out the face, but something seems very familiar about it.”

  She tilted her head and looked at the picture. A young woman was standing next to her attorney as she entered the courtroom. She had short, blond hair and was wearing a sweater and skirt. She looked calm and reserved except for the way she was clutching the neck of her sweater.

  Rose sat staring at the picture while Malcolm licked crumbs from the floor. “Malcolm, stop that. It’s dirty.” Then she put her hand to her mouth and said, “Oh my God!” She took out her cell and dialed Daisy. It kept ringing, then went to voice mail. She dialed again saying, “Come on, come on. Answer.” Daisy didn’t pick up.

  She shoved the paper back into the envelope, grabbed Malcolm’s leash and said, “Let’s go, Malcolm, we’ve got to hurry.”

  Daisy was looking all around the room. There weren’t that many decorations. A little tree by the door and poinsettias grouped around the room. And the fairy lights. She looked up at the lights and, finally, straight up at the Waterford chandelier. She gasped.

  “It’s enormous, isn’t it? For a diamond.” Daisy jumped about a foot and let out a yelp. She looked over to see Haz
el Monroe standing at the stockroom door.

  “Hazel! Good God, you scared me silly! When did you get here? I wasn’t expecting you for couple of hours.”

  “No, I’m sure you weren’t.” Her eyes were sharply focused on Daisy and she was clutching at the neck of her blouse with her left hand.

  Daisy asked, “Hazel, are you all right? You look a little frazzled.”

  “Well, actually, I am. I wasn’t expecting you to be here all afternoon. I thought you’d have gone upstairs to change or something. But you never were very concerned about your appearance.”

  Daisy was taken aback. “Well, no, I guess I’ve never been as put together as you.” She laughed nervously as she looked down at her wrinkled blouse and slacks that bagged at the knees.

  “But I’ve been working all day getting things out of the attic. I was just getting ready to go upstairs to change.” She looked at the shop door and asked, “How did you get in? I locked everything up.”

  “I slipped into the stockroom earlier. I was hoping to have some time in here alone.”

  “Why?”

  “To get the diamond, of course. I saw it the other day when I was in here. Dumb luck, really. A shaft of sunlight caught it just as I was admiring the chandelier. I do like sparkly things.”

  “Oh. What diamond are you talking about?”

  “What diamond? That bloody great thing hiding in your chandelier. The diamond Marc Proctor stole from me and hid there.”

  “Marc? What do you know about Marc?”

  “I know a lot of things. I’m not the helpless idiot that people think I am. People often think they can bully me, but they can’t. You can’t. Your sister can’t.”

  “We never wanted to, Hazel.” Daisy started moving slowly toward the sunroom.

  “Get back over there,” Hazel barked as she moved quickly around the center counter to block the sunroom door. Daisy caught a glint of something metallic in her right hand as she moved.

  She blurted out, “What are you doing Hazel? Is that a knife?” But Hazel didn’t seem to hear her. She just kept talking in a calm, almost conspiratorial kind of way.

  “No, you don’t want to bully. You just want to be the wonderful do-gooders among us. Investigating robberies and holding shop owners meetings. What a laugh! Blaming everything on that moron Ted Williamson! Well, thanks, that worked out well for me.”

  Daisy was really terrified now. Daisy’s phone rang, but Hazel just looked at it. “We’re not home right now, are we?”

  “I guess not. Hazel, wasn’t Ted Williamson responsible for all the break-ins?” asked Daisy as she looked frantically around for some sort of weapon.

  “No, not really. Well, if I’m totally honest, not at all. I needed a hobby and it was fun, a little excitement in my rather dull life. And after a couple of successes I had a brilliant idea.”

  Daisy had a sudden thought. “You ransacked your own shop, didn’t you? Why did you do that, Hazel? You almost killed your cat.”

  “You really are an idiot,” she sighed. “I was trying to kill the cat. The stupid thing just keeps on living. I hate it! I was trying to kill it and make it look like the neighborhood burglar did it.

  “Of course, even the best laid plan can get screwed up. Ted saw me ransacking my place and said he’d tell everyone if I didn’t help him.”

  “So the threatening note the police found was meant for you! What did he want you to do?”

  “Little things, lots of little things. Some books to read. A couple of bucks here, a sandwich there. It became very annoying. And he wanted more. He actually told me he needed a warm place to sleep at night and that I should find him one. So I did.”

  “You found him a warm place to sleep?”

  “Yes, I did. Just like he asked.”

  “Hazel, what did you do? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  “Kill him? Kill is such an unpleasant word. Let’s just say I helped him onto another plane. I found him a warm place to sleep. Your little psychic friend would like that.”

  “Why? Why would you do all this? Why didn’t you just give the cat away?” Daisy asked, frantically hoping she could keep her talking until Rose came home.

  “Nobody’s coming. The doors are locked, Daisy. You even set the alarm. This has become a very dangerous neighborhood.”

  She cocked her head to the side and smiled broadly. “I’m pretty sure I heard you screaming and when I finally managed to break in I found you lying right here under the chandelier in your sad, wrinkled clothes.”

  She moved her hands around pointing with the knife like she was imagining the scene. “With lots of blood all around and the door from the sunroom standing open. So sad!”

  She moved closer to the counter looking up at the chandelier. “It’s so very brilliant, isn’t it?” She looked back at Daisy.

  “I couldn’t get rid of the stupid cat. Book sellers always have a resident cat. Part of the ambiance. He came with the store. What would people think of me if I took him to the pound?”

  “No one would care. Not everyone likes pets.”

  “I’d never hear the end of it. That loony you have for a mother would be taking presents to the stupid thing and God knows what else. Holding vigils and singing dirges would be right up her alley. But if he was killed in a burglary, well.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “And I thought he had been,” she moaned. “The fat, lazy cretin was so slow the bookcase landed right on top of him. You and Rose played your parts so well. The concerned neighbors. Making me tea and talking to the police for me.

  “But you had to bring that perverted dog of yours! He couldn’t just let the cat die. No. He had to satisfy his bestial appetites and bring the damned animal back to life!”

  She looked up at the chandelier again and said, “The diamond is mine, Daisy.”

  “All right, but how do you know about the diamond?”

  Hazel laughed, a bizarre little twitter. Daisy felt a shiver go up her spine.

  “Marcus Worthington was my father. The diamond is rightfully mine! I found his personal journal in that book lot I bought at the auction. I couldn’t believe it. There were pages and pages of his silly exploits.

  “The man really was too impressed with himself by half. Or even three-quarters. Some of it made lively bedtime reading. When he got to 1998, it became very lively indeed. Can you believe he wrote everything down? What a stupid fucking ass!”

  For some reason Hazel’s language shocked Daisy more than her confession. She must have looked it because Hazel laughed and said, “Oh Daisy, Daisy. You are naive, aren’t you?”

  “Anyway, the idiot recorded the whole plan to steal the diamond. He got Ted Williamson to turn the lights on and off a couple of times during the evening and he snatched the pendant during one of the blackouts. He really was smart for an old fool. He hung it on the back of one of the quilts in the Quilt Room and came back for it weeks later.

  “He wrote about the desk that his ‘curator’ Marc Proctor had gotten for him. He described it in detail, so I knew it was the same one that Marc bought at the auction. Then Dad wrote that he felt it was safest to keep the pendant in one of the hidden compartments.”

  “Did you mean to attack Marc or was that just accidental? Did he walk in on you?”

  “Oh my, no. I had to wait for him to get there. I couldn’t figure out how to get around his alarm system.

  “I figured he’d be early that day. He’d told me about needing to pack the desk for shipping. So I just waited around back until he opened up. Then I snuck in after him. He was working at the counter and didn’t hear me. I stepped up behind him, reached around and stabbed him in the chest. I was aiming for his heart, but missed! I really need more practice, I guess.

  “Anyway, he fell to the ground, but kept moving around. Moaning and scratching at the floor. So I hit him with the pry bar. Simple really. Probably should have gone that route in the first place.

  “But I had barely had time to start on the desk w
hen that fornicating mutt of yours screwed things up for me again!

  “However, that’s neither here nor there. Water under the bridge. We have other business. It’s nothing personal, but you’re in my way. Actually, it is a little bit personal. I’ve never liked you. So, let’s get it over with.”

  All this time Hazel had been moving toward Daisy and Daisy had been backing up toward the connecting door to the apartment’s vestibule. She backed into a rack displaying men’s ties, lost her balance and stumbled sideways just as Hazel lunged at her. The knife’s blade sliced down beside her into the rack. Hazel stumbled, and then scrambled back to her feet blocking the door.

  Daisy quickly crawled back the center counter and pulled herself up. She turned to see Hazel change in a heartbeat from merely freaking nuts to raving lunatic. Daisy reached out for some sort of weapon and grabbed a good-sized Connemara marble egg from the counter behind her.

  Hazel saw it and laughed and said in a deadly calm voice, “Oh really, Daisy. I don’t think so.”

  “I do. Starting shortstop four years running,” she yelled as she side-armed the egg at Hazel and caught her mid-chest. Hazel doubled up and fell away from the door just as the house alarm went off. Daisy leaped over her and pulled the door open.

  Angela’s voice floated down from upstairs, “Sorry love. Forgot again. I’ll turn it off.”

  Daisy screamed, “Mother run! Hide!” as she started up the stairs. She was halfway up when a hand grabbed her foot, tripped her, started pulling her back down, but then let go abruptly when Daisy’s frantic kick connected with something solid.

  The phone started ringing in the apartment. Daisy scrambled to the top of the steps where Angela stood watching in fascinated horror. She turned to see Hazel standing at the bottom of the staircase. She was inspecting a tear in her green silk blouse.

  Daisy said, “It’s over Hazel. The police are on their way here now. Just leave and take your chances getting away.”

  Hazel seemed to go cold. She stared at her blouse. Then she raised her eyes and looked straight at Daisy. “I can’t do that. Look what you’ve done. You and your stupid mother. You’ve ripped my blouse. It’s silk, you know. This tear can’t be fixed. You’ve ruined it.”