Double Dutch Death

by Karen Musser Nortman

  She let that sink in the rest of the way back to Bess and Dean’s house. They would have to admit she was right. She was annoyed with Lil always throwing water on her ideas.

  But she had to give up her pout when they got to the house, and Lil offered to take Rosie out for a walk. Since Max couldn’t do it, she had to squeeze out a little graciousness. Rosie danced and leapt at the “w” word, and even more when she saw her leash being retrieved from a hook by the door.

  “Hang on tight if she sees a squirrel,” Max instructed. “It’s like she’s shot out of a cannon.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  “If she gets to be too much for you, come back and maybe Dean will walk her. Do you have your phone with you?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Don’t be so sarcastic, Lil. I’m just trying to be helpful.”

  “So am I—and speaking of sarcasm—,” but Rosie was tugging on the leash toward the door. “We’ll be fine.” Lil waved as the setter pulled her out the door.

  Once they reached the sidewalk, Rosie seemed reassured that Lil would not back out of her duty and relaxed some, content to check each blade of grass along the walk.

  “Sometimes I think your mistress is crazy, Rosie. I don’t know why she is so sensitive and such a control freak.”

  Rosie stopped and looked up at Lil. It was dark but Lil could have sworn she rolled her eyes, or at least gave a little shrug.

  Lil laughed. “You are a character.”

  They continued down the shaded street with Lil chatting with Rosie about comparisons between dog biscuits and chasing squirrels versus chasing rabbits.

  The air had cooled, but the fragrance of lilacs and other spring flowers infused the air. That pleasant smell contrasted with the dark shadows and unidentified sounds. Twice Lil thought she heard footsteps, but they either were a figment of her imagination or they ceased when she stopped to listen.

  “Rosie, maybe your mistress is right; I am going wacko.”

  A deep voice came from behind them. “I was hoping maybe I’d hear her answer you.”,

  Lil nearly jumped out of her shoes. She whirled around, alarmed even more by the low growl emitting from Rosie.

  James Meijer stood behind her with a big smile on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Lil took in his casual but expensive-looking clothes, a sweater tied around his shoulders as usual. How did he expect her to react, coming up behind her in the dark?

  “Rosie! Settle down.” She pulled on the leash to prevent her from lunging at James. “Apparently, you startled the dog as well.”

  “I am sorry. Are you headed back to the Gregorys’? I’d be glad to walk along with you. Can’t be too careful these days.”

  Lil wasn’t ready to turn back, but thought it might be the only way she’d get rid of him. He seemed like a sleazy character in spite of his polished appearance. She turned the dog around and started back for the house.

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, I mean about Helen. I saw you at the Rotterdam bar this evening when all that was going down.”

  “But surely that was an accident?” She hadn’t noticed him there, but wasn’t paying close attention to the other patrons either. Regardless, she didn’t want to encourage any speculative discussion.

  “Maybe. Who knows? Are you enjoying the Tulip Fest?”

  Rather an abrupt change of topic and tone. “Well, yes, but these tragedies have certainly affected everyone.”

  “Yes, yes. I suppose. I hope they don’t decide to forego the event in the future because of it. The national news has already picked it up. Not very good publicity for the Tulip Fest. Here’s my turn. It was good seeing you again. I hope tomorrow is better for you.” He nodded and turned at the corner.

  Well. That was very strange. So much for him escorting her back to the house for her safety. She involuntarily glanced around at the dark clumps of bushes by the houses, while hurrying the dog along. She did notice that once James left, Rosie seemed to relax, and that was reassuring.

  When she reached the house, there was an unfamiliar dark car parked in the driveway behind Max’s Studebaker. Once inside the house, she replaced the leash on the hook and heard voices coming from the kitchen. Bess, Dean and Max were all seated at the table with Detective Charles Wilkins.

  At first Lil worried that something else serious had happened, but then remembered that he had said at the windmill that he would be talking to them later in the day. And this was still the same day? It didn’t seem possible.

  Wilkins looked up at her. “I was just saying that you and your sister have had quite an introduction to our fair city. This isn’t typical in any way, shape, or form.”

  Lil caught Max’s look over his head as her sister slowly shook her head. Apparently no one had mentioned to the detective that this was not their first visit to family that had been spoiled by murder. Then she wouldn’t bring it up either.

  Dean pulled out a chair for her and Lil sat.

  Wilkins continued. “I was explaining to everyone that I would like to go over again what happened this morning and see if you remembered anything else.”

  “When I saw you sitting here, I was shocked to realize that that was only this morning. So much has happened since then,” Lil said.

  He nodded. “I understand you were already at the college when Mrs. Bakke was found.”

  “Yes, we were having dinner,” Max said. “Plus I sprained my ankle. It’s been a rough day.” She had moved from the wheelchair to a kitchen chair, and she pointed at her foot propped up on a tall stool.

  He seemed very sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did you do that?”

  Bess smirked and then covered her smile. “They were taking wooden shoe dancing lessons.”

  Max pointed at her. “You talked us into it.”

  Detective Wilkins laughed. “Okay, you’ll have to save that discussion for later.” He pulled out a notebook and pen. “I’m sorry to be so late, but of course we had the death at the college to investigate as well. Can you tell me again the order in which you toured the windmill, and what you did on each floor up to when you found the victim?”

  Max and Lil both looked at Dean. He said, “I guess I’ll lead and you two can chime in with details you remember.”

  “Sounds good,” Max said.

  “We entered from the museum after I checked in with Wanita Eldridge. We took the second floor catwalk over from the museum and planned to see the first floor when we came back down.” He turned to Max and Lil. “The second floor was the one with the windmill museum.”

  “Did you hear anything when you were on that floor?” Wilkins asked.

  “Well, you could hear the machinery clanking from above us,” Lil said, “but I don’t remember anything else. We didn’t stay there long because neither of us are much interested in mechanical stuff.”

  Wilkins turned to Max. “Did you hear anything from below?”

  “I don’t think so. Like Lil said, there was the noise of the machinery, so I don’t think we would have noticed any other sounds unless they were really different.”

  “Whoa!” Lil said. When Detective Wilkins turned to her with a questioning look, she explained, “It isn’t often that she agrees with me about anything.”

  “Grow up,” Max muttered. “This is serious.”

  Dean looked up at the ceiling, inhaled deeply, and continued. “We took the stairs up to third floor, which is the miller’s quarters. We spent a little more time there.”

  “We walked around and looked at all of the furnishings, especially the cupboard bed,” Max added.

  “Still no unusual noises?” Wilkins asked.

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “We took the stairs again, up to the fifth floor. First we went out to the catwalk and looked at the mill blades and checked out the view of the town.”

  “Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

  “No,” Max sa
id.

  Lil looked at Dean. “You were laughing because you saw someone trip down on the street, but that probably didn’t mean anything. And that balloon went over.”

  Wilkins raised his eyebrows at Dean, who cleared his throat before he spoke. “Well, you were taking pictures of the street, and, um, Max asked why you didn’t use your phone instead of a camera. After you answered,” he cleared his throat again, “um, I’m sorry—Max made a face and I laughed at it. I never saw anyone trip. I was trying to cover up for my laugh.”

  Wilkins stopped his note taking and asked Lil, “You were taking pictures?”

  “Yes. I always make a small scrapbook of pictures from each of our trips. We enjoy looking at them later and remembering the fun. I—”

  Detective Wilkins interrupted. “Are the pictures still on your camera?”

  Lil stood. “Yes, I’ll get it.”

  She was soon back with the small digital camera. She turned it on, activated the preview, and thumbed to the beginning of the day’s photos. She then passed it to Wilkins.

  Wilkins squinted at the small screen as he advanced through several pictures. “I’ll need to take the memory card with me. I can leave you the camera.”

  “Will I get the memory card back?”

  “After we copy it.”

  Lil slipped the card out of the camera and handed it to Wilkins. He placed it in a plastic bag and gave Lil a receipt.

  “So, back to your morning. Did you see anything unusual when you were out on the catwalk?”

  “Not really, except the balloon,” Max said. “We were just admiring the view of the town.”

  Dean said, “We went back inside, and I explained about the grain being unloaded on the first floor, and how the winch is used to bring the grain up to the milling equipment. When I started the winch, I noticed that it was straining more than usual. The rest you know.”

  “Thank you.” Wilkins looked around at the group. “Anything else you thought of during the day?”

  Max said, “Do you have a time of death yet?”

  “It’s an ongoing investigation, Mrs. Berra. I can’t go into that.”

  “I understand. But I was just thinking. The man at the restaurant—,” she looked at Bess, “—Harry? Said he saw Mr. DeVries when he was on his way to work this morning.”

  Wilkins said “Harry Eldridge?”

  “Yes. We had lunch at the Dutch Treat. Harry said he was going to report it, but he was short-handed today. Maybe he forgot,” Bess said.

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to him. That’s helpful. But we know that Peter registered for the race and at least started it. He was one of the walkers so was at the back of the pack. We’re trying to find out if anyone saw him after the race started. Anything else?”

  “We heard that someone tore up one of the victim’s flower beds. Is that true?” Max asked.

  Wilkins nodded. “That was on the six o’clock news.” He stood. “Well, you can give me a call if you think of anything new. Thanks again.” Dean started to get up. “Stay seated. I can find my way out.”

  After they heard the door close, Max said, “I wish we had gotten a look at those photos before he took that card.”

  Lil grinned. “My new camera lets me upload directly to Facebook. They should be on there. I did that this afternoon while we were waiting at the doctor’s office.”

  She pulled out her phone, but Dean said, “I’ll get the laptop so we can make them a lot larger.”

  Dean pulled up Facebook and found Lil’s page.

  Max smiled at her sister. “I’m impressed. I usually think social media is a waste of time..” She paused. “This time, I’m glad you used it.”

  “Here they are.” Dean sat back so they could see.

  “Hmm. Those of the street are so far away, I don’t know if we’ll be able to tell anything,” Lil said. “After we’ve looked at them, I’ll download them to iPhoto and I can crop them down to get more detail. Since I sent them to Facebook, the resolution isn’t as high as it would be off the memory card.”

  “Pretty difficult to identify anyone from the top of their heads,” Bess said.

  “That’s disappointing.” Max squinted at the screen. “You’d have to know what someone was wearing in order to know who it was.”

  “Even then, it probably wouldn’t hold up in court,” Dean said.

  Lil straightened, and rubbed her back. “I think it’s time for me to turn in. Good night, everybody.”

  She helped Max go up the stairs backwards on her bottom. Max insisted she could ready for bed by herself, so Lil went to her own room and fell gratefully into her bed.

  Chapter Nine

  Sunday morning, Lil was the first one up, at 6:00 a.m. She started the coffee and took an eager Rosie out for a walk. This time she headed away from the direction of James Meijer’s home. The pleasant morning and peaceful street belied the turmoil the town had been through the day before.

  Lil considered Helen Bakke’s death. If it wasn’t accidental, surely it must be connected to Peter DeVries’ murder. That could mean there was a murderer loose who wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.

  The thought made her pick up her pace and keep a watchful eye on her surroundings. The peacefulness could be a facade hiding who knew what, so her return to the house brought some relief and security.

  The coffee was ready and she settled in the kitchen with a large mug and her laptop. She downloaded the photos from her Facebook page and imported them into iPhoto.

  She made several duplicates of the street scenes so that she could isolate different sections and enlarge them. She leaned her chin on her hand and studied them. As she feared, the resolution was not great.

  Rosie stood at the window looking out to the back yard and growled. She pranced a little, tapping her toenails on the tile floor. Lil’s underlying nervousness brought her to full alert, and she moved quickly to the wall to switch off the light. The dim morning light still came into the kitchen, but she wouldn’t be so visible to anyone outside.

  Rosie continued her almost-muttering. Lil slid to the side of the window to see what was upsetting the dog. Near an apple tree just off the patio, three cats, including the Bill-the-Cat lookalike, raced around the trunk, nipping and batting at each other. Rosie looked up at Lil, her expression saying “I can take care of those for you. Just let me out.”

  Lil let out a sigh of relief, leaned over, and scratched the dog’s ears. “You are out of luck, girl. No cat chasing this morning. Besides, those cats could probably take you.”

  Dean walked into the kitchen, yawning. “Does she ever answer you?”

  Lil laughed. “I wish.” She then remembered James Meijer making a similar comment last night. As she went back to her coffee, she told Dean about it. “I know he’s a neighbor and friend, but he kind of creeps me out.”

  “He can be a little—um—brash, but we’ve known him for years and it’s just his sales persona.”

  “If you say so.”

  Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and looked over her shoulder. “Those are the pictures you took yesterday?”

  “Yes, I tried to enlarge sections but just as I thought, the resolution isn’t good. And even if it was, I don’t know if you could recognize anyone.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  He sat down at the table. “Yesterday seems like a bad dream. Peter and Helen were both, at the least, casual acquaintances of ours. But besides that, it will be a devastating loss to the whole town.”

  “Your neighbor James seems to think that it could kill the Tulip Fest too, so to speak.”

  “He’d like that. He’s never been a big backer.”

  “Really. You’d think he’d want the town and the college to succeed. Do you think the murders had anything to do with the fact that Helen and Peter were seeing each other?”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Were Helen’s sons okay with the relationship?”

  Dean shrugged. “I guess. Why?”


  “If not, they might be suspects.” Lil closed her laptop.

  “I would doubt that.” He pushed back from the table and got up. “I’m going down to the bakery to pick up a coffee cake for breakfast. Do you want to ride along?”

  Rosie perked up her ears at the word ‘ride’ but Lil said, “He wasn’t asking you.” And then to Dean, “Sure. I’d like to get some more of those Dutch letters.”

  Once in the car, Lil asked, “Where did Peter DeVries live?”

  “Just a few blocks from here, near the college. I’ll take you by there. It’s an interesting house and caused quite a stir when he built it. Not the traditional architecture of most of the town.”

  “I thought he was a big supporter of the Tulip Fest and the Dutch culture?”

  “He was, but sometimes he marched to a different drummer.” He turned off Water Street and looped around another block. “There it is on the right.”

  Lil peered out the window at a very modern structure composed of angular sections. Adding to the unusual shapes were a wide variety of materials. One section was old barn board, one corrugated steel, another cement block.

  “Wow! Very untraditional,” Lil said.

  “He said it was intended to represent the structures typical of the Iowa prairie. Along the side there is one of the tulip beds that vandals destroyed the other night.”

  Lil noticed the crime scene tape along the ground, which outlined the plot. Then she noticed someone pulling back into one of the angles of the house.

  “Who’s that? You said he had no family.”

  Dean slowed down even more. “It looked like Harry Eldridge. What’s he doing there?”

  “He was very interested in the old tulip variety that Peter was developing.”

  Dean pulled over to the curb. “It’s probably none of my business, but I’m going to find out what he’s doing.”

  He got out of the car and walked toward the house. Lil followed.

  The person ducked around another corner and appeared to be about to take of across the back yard, when Dean called out, “Harry! Wait up!”

  Harry stopped and turned back reluctantly. His face didn’t register surprise but he didn’t walk toward them either.