“Crystal Smith and her mother, Gwen Selwyn, own Cadbury Yarn. Like Wanda, Crystal has been working with yarn since she was a small child. She is the originator of the mystery bag idea. I’m going to let her explain the whole plan to you.”
As I said that, I noticed Wanda appeared perturbed and adopted her teapot pose.
Crystal stepped into the spotlight and greeted the group. “I hope you’re ready for something exciting,” she said. “At the end of the weekend, you will be finished, or close to it anyway, making something unique.” She had a bin with her and began to unload the contents on the table. “This idea started as a way to sell off odds and ends of yarn at the store. We began bundling them into bags. The bags always had the same amount of yarn, but the selection was different in each one. When we started doing this, there wasn’t the selection of novelty yarns like there is now. It was my idea to include them. Then odds and ends like beads or charms were added. In the beginning it was up to whoever bought one to figure out how to use everything, but in time we realized that it was helpful to show samples of what could be made and even offer some patterns.” She set out the selection of scarves, small bags, toys and finally the worry doll.
Wanda was getting hot under the collar and I could see she wanted to interrupt. Crystal seemed to figure it out and then changed her patter. “With the limited time we have, we don’t want you to spend too much time trying to decide what to make, so Wanda and I have come up with a plan.” She went to take a breath and Wanda jumped in.
“The plan is to give you a scarf pattern to use. Since what you all have to work with is different, even with the same pattern, yours will be unique.” While she was talking, she brought out a stack of papers with the pattern and several samples of the scarves. As she’d said, each one of the scarves did look different despite the same instructions. Wanda was wound up and it didn’t seem like there would be a break in her speech, so Crystal broke in.
“But in case you don’t want to make a scarf and would like to make something different, we have the directions for her.” She held up the worry doll and the group all smiled. Crystal explained that the doll even had a use. She finished by saying, “And if neither of those ideas please you, I have patterns for all of these.” She gestured toward the array of things she’d brought.
There was a buzz of conversation and everybody got up from their seats to have a closer look at Crystal’s samples. I heard someone mention that the bear looked loved, which was a nice way of saying well used. “It’s had a few owners,” Crystal said with a smile.
Wanda seemed about to jump out of her skin and simply interrupted. “Wanda Krug here,” she said, reintroducing herself as if anyone didn’t know. “Crystal has some wonderful ideas, but you ought to know that the worry doll and the other toys aren’t meant for young children.” Wanda held up a bead and mimicked choking. “In the old days they never thought about stuff like that.” She gave a dismissive nod toward the bear. “All those choices are probably a little overwhelming for all of you. Right?” A number of women nodded their heads and Wanda seemed triumphant. “That’s why I think you’ll be happiest if you go along with the scarf plan.”
Crystal let Wanda have her say without reacting.
The one thing they were in agreement on was that everyone should empty their bag and see what they had to work with.
There was a buzz of conversation as they checked out their yarn and saw what their neighbors had. One of the women stood up. “I understand different yarns, beads and even some charms, but how am I going to use this?” She held a large earring in her hand.
“That’s Diana Rathman’s earring,” Scarlett, the defector from the 1963 group, said. “She was wearing it last night.”
11
Scarlett was out the door on her way to fetch Lieutenant Borgnine before I could stop her. I wondered how he’d react to an adult woman dressed like a kid in the early sixties, but then he probably would be dealing with a lot of similarly clothed people this weekend.
The group seemed to freeze, not quite knowing what was going on, but that didn’t last. After a moment there was a hum of conversation, and I heard just enough to figure out that my retreaters were getting the scoop on who Diana Rathman was and what had happened from the early birds and Madeleine. Particularly Madeleine.
“I was practically there when it happened,” she said to a woman wrapped in a red shawl.
“But what is the dead woman’s earring doing in one of the bags?” another asked with a shudder.
Madeleine had center stage now. Who would have figured that someone who had been so quiet would flip so far the other way?
“I think that when the killer went to strangle her, the earring must have snagged on their clothes. Maybe they didn’t notice it until later and needed to get rid of it.” She looked to me. “Don’t you think that’s what happened?” The Delacorte sister turned back to the rest of the group. “You might not know it, but Casey is quite the sleuth. She learned it all when she worked for a detective agency in Chicago.”
The early birds knew all of that already and nodded in agreement. The rest of the people looked at me with new interest.
“Sounds to me like we’re getting a mystery bonus with our yarn work. Are you one of those amateurs that always bests the cops?” a woman with piles of light brown ringlets said.
I was embarrassed by all the attention, and was trying to divert it by rocking my head in a self-deprecating way, which meant I totally missed the arrival of the lieutenant. Unfortunately, he was there for the woman’s comment.
He showed off his badge, gave me a harsh sideways look and responded to the remark. “No one is besting anyone here,” he said. “I can assure all of you, the Cadbury by the Sea Police Department is totally in control of the investigation and will bring the culprit to justice.”
His gaze moved over the crowd at pretty much the same time mine did. If I was a betting woman, I’d say they all looked like they were betting on me. The lieutenant must have got the same impression because he glowered at me.
“Where is this piece of evidence?” he said curtly. Scarlett pointed to the earring on the table and repeated that Diana Rathman had been wearing it the previous day.
“She must have been wearing it when she got killed,” Scarlett said.
“And it was in one of those bags?” he said, eyeing all the red tote bags on the table. Scarlett rushed to point out the bag belonging to the woman sitting next to her. He turned to me with a disconcerted grunt. “Ms. Feldstein, suppose you tell me where these bags have been.”
“They were in my guest house until I brought them over here this morning. Then they were sitting out on the table in the Lodge.” I was relieved when he ignored the part about them being in my guest house, but then he didn’t know that Sammy was sleeping there. And I was pretty sure he was still in the dark that the so-called scarf used to strangle Diana was actually one of Sammy’s silk streamers.
“Was anybody watching them?” I shook my head and mentioned that, after I’d set them out, I’d gone to the café.
“When I came back in the main room, it was full of people,” I said. “Any of them could have dropped the earring in.”
“I’ll draw the conclusions here,” he said. He took his pen and pushed the large earring to the edge of the table. He’d taken out a small paper bag and knocked the earring into it.
“Wait a minute,” the woman who’d had the earring in her bag said. “I touched it, so my fingerprints must be on it. Is that going to make me a suspect?”
Lieutenant Borgnine gave a little rub to his temple, which implied he had a headache coming on. “No, it won’t make you a suspect. Come with me and we’ll take your fingerprints so we can eliminate them from whatever we find.”
“You better take mine, too,” Scarlett said. “I picked it up off the table so my fingerprints must be on it, too.”
The lieutenant shook his head and waved for her to join them.
“You know, no one questioned me and I was there last night when the dead woman was arguing with her husband,” Madeleine chimed in.
“Really?” he said, stopping in his tracks. I’m sure he knew who she was. He gave his temple a stronger rub this time. I suppose he probably thought that people who volunteered to be questioned didn’t usually have any useful information, but he pulled her aside anyway.
Madeleine turned to me. “Casey, please come with me. I’ve never been interrogated before.”
I so wanted to say, “And you’re not going to be interrogated now,” but I suggested everybody take a break, even though we’d just started, and we’d reconvene in half an hour. The lieutenant sent Scarlett and the other woman with a uniform who was walking by.
Madeleine seemed disappointed when we stopped at a bench outside. “I thought it would be something more formal than this,” she said. He shrugged and rolled his eyes at her comment. She sat down and the lieutenant remained standing and opened his notebook. “Okay, then ask away,” Madeleine said.
I think he tried to hide the groan, but I heard it. “Why don’t you just tell me what you saw.”
“I’m sure you realize that I didn’t really know the victim. There I was trying to talk to that wonderful singer and she just interrupted. Like I wasn’t even there. She seemed like one of those people that stirred things up in a bad way. I saw her arguing with her husband, and then, what she did to the Amazing Dr. Sammy.”
I froze as he suddenly seemed to take notice of what she was saying.
“What exactly happened?” he asked.
“Why, she ruined his trick and embarrassed him in front of everybody. He seemed to take it pretty well, but I just thought what she did was uncalled for.” Madeleine went on as I grew more worried about what she might say. Then I looked at the cop and almost laughed. He was doodling on his pad of paper. To him he was just doing her a courtesy. Like I thought, he dismissed the importance of anyone who volunteered to be questioned. Even so, someone was bound to tell him about the incident when he was paying attention.
* * *
I got back to the room early and was waiting when Scarlett and the other woman came back from having their fingerprints taken. Seeing that the rest of the people weren’t back, the woman went off to the café. Scarlett stayed with me and Madeleine.
“Thanks for adding me to your program. I’m already having more fun than I usually do at the Favorite Year retreats.” I guessed Scarlett was well into her forties, but her slender build and round face made her appear younger. The pigtails helped, too, but it was also her manner.
“Did you know Diana Rathman very well?’ I asked Scarlett. I figured before I asked it that she probably did judging by how quickly she had recognized the earring when it fell on the table.
“We weren’t besties or anything, but I’ve known her for a long time. Norman Rathman and my husband are both in the history department at CalStateCentCst.” She noted my puzzled look. “Sorry. That’s the abbreviation for California State Central Coast University. You know how it is, I’d see her at faculty events.” She pulled out a chair and went to sit. “Do you know the whole story about how the Favorite Year retreats started?”
I shook my head and she continued. “Norman and my husband both taught contemporary history classes and they discovered a great teaching tool that made the lessons come alive, by literally making them alive. It had started with small events like a potluck dinner with foods from an era, and the showing of media from the time. They morphed into all-day events and became more like stepping back into the time. The students enjoyed them and started bringing friends along. Finally, Norman got the idea of turning it into a club, and instead of putting an event on during a single day, it became a long weekend with a particular year being re-created. He also turned it into a business. Everybody knows professors don’t get paid much so this was a good way to earn some extra money. Diana helped with a lot of the arrangements. She and Norman were co-owners of the club.”
Reading between the lines, it sounded like Scarlett’s husband might have gotten the shaft when it became a business. I asked her about it, but she said her husband was glad to just work for them rather than be an owner. “Diana stopped coming to the events a couple of years ago. Nobody is supposed to know, but their marriage is falling apart. That’s why I was so surprised to see her. She must have decided to come at the last minute.”
I wanted to ask her if she had any idea why Diana had decided to come to the retreat, but she veered off Diana and started talking about Norman Rathman.
“He was not happy to see her. He added it to the list of things that had gone wrong with this retreat. He bent my husband’s ear about all the problems and Jason, in turn, dumped it all on me.” She smiled at me. “You can see why I was so anxious to join your group.” I asked her what the problems with the retreat were and she was only too glad to pass them along.
“You probably don’t know, but the place Norman usually holds the retreats had a fire and he had to relocate it here. It’s not his way to give over any control and he was upset from the get-go about the way the manager of this place handled things.”
“Really?” Madeleine said. “You know my sister and I own this place.”
Scarlett went through a laundry list of complaints from the wrong music, to inviting the celebrity guests, to our retreat going on at the same time. “Norman is such a stickler for accurate details. But he was very happy with the phone booths and unplugged nature of the place. Personally, I like the activities the manager added. It’s fun seeing a movie from that year with the star there to talk about it. And I have to believe it’s a big thrill for the guys to have a softball game with a real baseball player. Having that singer do his hit from 1963 at the dance makes it exciting.”
“I know what you mean,” Madeleine said in a wistful voice. “You have no idea the memories that’s going to bring back.” She told Scarlett that she had heard Bobbie Listorie do the song the actual year it was a hit. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked around nervously. Did she think her sister was hiding behind a tree?
“What about Sally Winston?” I asked.
“So you noticed. I’m not sure what is going on between them. She’s an instructor and has been his assistant in the club business for a while. I’m sure you noticed that Norman has a lot of charisma. The students hang on to his every word. Sally is fine with being his helper. Maybe Diana got tired of being outshone by him.”
I had waited before bringing up my last question. She was talking freely now and I thought this was the best chance to get something useful from her. “Do you have any idea who would want to kill Diana?”
As I thought she would, she answered without hesitation. “Having her out of the way certainly makes things easier for Norman. There’s no question anymore of who gets what. He gets it all. But maybe there is somebody else. I heard she was pretty wild before she married Norman. It was the seventies; I guess everybody was.”
Our conversation ended as the group began to filter back in and take their seats. Lucinda caught my gaze and I mouthed that I’d tell her later.
What the group did next surprised me. They all started trading balls of yarn and beads from their bags. There wasn’t really a reason to stop them, so I let it be even if Crystal seemed disappointed.
It turned out that the main event of the first workshop was for each person to decide what they wanted to make.
At the end of the session, the group had broken into Team Wanda and Team Crystal. Wanda’s group agreed it was a good idea to all make the same thing and something basic like a scarf. The Crystal Group mostly wanted to make the worry doll, but one person wanted to make a small purse. The early birds split between the two teams. Lucinda and I stuck with Crystal’s team so we could make the worry dolls.
I didn
’t know about the others, but I really needed one of those dolls to hand off my worries to.
Madeleine seemed a little frazzled by the choices and just stuck with me. Wanda managed to woo her over to the scarf team, but the Delacorte sister insisted on sitting with me. I knew it had to do with me acting as her aid, but it was impossible to be upset with Madeleine. On the one hand, she might have looked at me as her assistant, but at the same time she seemed to be in such awe of my talents.
Wanda checked her watch. “Time’s up for today,” she said, gathering her things. Crystal seemed in less of a hurry to leave. The table was littered with everyone’s supplies and assorted patterns. Wanda was out the door in a flash. Crystal hung back and suggested we leave everything as is and continue on in the morning.
I mentioned there was a nature walk put on by Vista Del Mar starting in a few minutes if any of them were interested. Madeleine nudged me. “Tell them that they can take part in the activities put on by the other retreat.” But before I could say anything, she turned to the group. “I’m kind of your hostess, since my sister and I own Vista Del Mar. I was the one who arranged for all of you to be welcome at the things being put on by the 1963 people. That’s what I call them, but I think the official name of their retreat is My Favorite Year 1963.” She let out a little titter of laughter. “I don’t suppose you really care what their real name is as long as you know who I’m talking about.” She took a breath. “Tonight there is a screening of From Russia with Love in Hummingbird Hall. There’s also going to be folk singing around the fire pit.” She looked back at me. “Do you have anything planned for our people?”
Olivia Golden stood up and answered for me. “After dinner I’m going to be in the Lodge and anyone interested in making squares for charity is welcome to join me.”
Wound Up In Murder Page 9
