Silence of the Hams jj-7

by Jill Churchill

  Jane thought for a minute. "You know, it would be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, if he'd gotten mad enough at Stonecipher to kill him. What better place to do it than the deli? A murder at the deli might also hurt Conrad's business enough to shut him down."

  “I think we're wandering pretty far afield here," Mel said. "Could we go back to the list, please?”

  They filled Mel in on Conrad, Sarah, and Grace. "I think Grace is a partner in the business," Shelley said. "She talked about 'we' and 'us' and 'our' business. I got the impression that she actually invested more than just her share of the house she and Sarah inherited. But it's only my impression. It must have cost a fortune for the renovations, the equipment, the supplies, not to mention that there must have been legal fees to defend themselves against Stonecipher and Hanlon trying to close them down. But as far as making them suspects in his death — well, it's the opposite, really. They'd won the battle.”

  Mel made a note and said, "Now, it seems that Stonecipher's business associates were there, too. What about Emma Weyrich?" Jane and Shelley told him a whole lot more than he wanted to know about the aerobics class.

  “But do you know anything about her relationship with her employer?" he asked, cutting them off.

  Not a thing, they admitted.

  “But she came to the deli with him?"

  “She and Hanlon both followed him in the door," Jane said. "But I don't know if they actually came together."

  “And his law partner? Tony Belton?”

  “Tony Belton was there?" Shelley asked. "I didn't see him."

  “He was there when I arrived," Mel said. "Do you know him?"

  “He's the boys' new soccer coach. We met him at the practice later in the afternoon," Shelley said. "But he's a handsome man. I think we would have noticed him if he'd been at the deli when we were." At his questioning look, Shelley smiled and added, "Just because I'm married doesn't mean I'm blind, does it?"

  “What about Rhonda Stonecipher, the deceased's wife?"

  “I know her, but I didn't see her there," Shelley said. "Was she?”

  Mel nodded. "What's she like?”

  Jane answered. "Middle-aged, tummy-tucked, beauty-shopped, nail-saloned. And stingy as hell. I was on a committee with her once — to raise money to replace the playground equipment at the park. She insisted that we have our first meeting at a very expensive restaurant. Everybody thought it was nice of her to treat us to lunch, but then we found that we not only had to pay for our own lunches, we had to pay for hers, too, because she 'forgot' her credit card. Nobody believed it, but then she got us a second time. After one of the meetings we all went out for dessert and suddenly she had to leave only seconds before the bill came."

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven," Mel said.

  “Not really," Shelley put in. "Rhonda stiffed me for a lunch once, too, but she's so pleasant about it. She's one of those people who make you feel like you're her best friend when you're talking to her. Very chirpy and cheerful and chummy.”

  Jane nodded. "That's true. And with the park thing, she was a good worker. She had some great ideas and managed to extract a lot of money from people. I guess practice makes perfect."

  “I don't suppose there's any hope that you two could tell me exactly when you saw any of the people you did see?" Mel asked.

  “None at all," Jane replied. "We were there for the food, not as witnesses.”

  Jane couldn't get to sleep that night. Mike was still out, and she kept listening for him to come home, while telling herself she was being obsessive. In a few months he'd be away at college and she'd never know what time he was coming in. But, as her own mother had frequently told her, "Motherhood is an incurable disease." She reminded herself she had no reason to worry about Mike. Of all her children — of all the children she knew well, in fact — he was the most sensible and responsible. A smart aleck, of course, but sensible just the same. While Katie and Todd threw fits about her rules and restrictions, Mike never had. He just made fun of her.

  “Oh, yeah, Mom," he'd said cheerfully when she set his curfew at eleven a few years ago, "I forgot that the knife-wielding mass murderers all have their alarms set for eleven." Laughing in spite of herself, she'd backed off and settled for eleven-thirty.

  She knew he wasn't out drinking, or driving like a loony, or letting anyone else drive his new truck. But she still worried. She knew it was partly because of the death at the deli, but on reflection she knew both Mel and Shelley were right. And she was oddly comforted by learning that both Stonecipher's wife and his partner had been there, too. Surely the reason for his death had something to do with his life. And nothing whatsoever to do with Mike or anybody else.

  She finally fell into a light sleep, but woke again soon. There was an odd noise somewhere. Staggering to the bathroom, she realized the plumbing was making that sound that meant water was running somewhere. But she hadn't left the dishwasher or yard sprinkler running, so what was it? Dear God, what if the antique water heater had finally crumbled. How did a person find a plumber, much less afford one in the middle of the night!

  She threw on her robe and hurried down the stairs, but as she passed through the kitchen, she heard a noise in the driveway. Thank God.

  Mike was home. Men, even young ones, had some built-in genetic affinity with pipes. She glanced out the kitchen window and found herself tearing up again. Mike was home, all right. And she'd remember what she was seeing now every time she made a car payment.

  It was one in the morning and he was washing his new truck as tenderly as a mother washes a newborn.

  5

  Jane got up early, took her coffee outside, and sat on the patio. Her cats, Max and Meow, assumed, erroneously, that this activity was going to have something to do with food for them, and followed her, stropping themselves against her legs. "You were just fed!" she reminded them. Willard wanted to go bark aimlessly and she wouldn't let him, so he settled next to her and mumbled to himself about every bird and squirrel he saw. A few minutes later Todd stumbled out to sit with her. Not being a teenager quite yet, he hadn't adopted the belief that summers were for sleeping till noon and staying up all night.

  Fortunately, he wasn't gabby in the morning, so they sat in companionable silence, Jane with her coffee, Todd with a glass of milk. Todd petted Willard with his foot, and the big dog rolled over, waving his saucer-sized feet in the air and groaning happily.

  Mike joined them shortly. He looked tired, but happy. "I'm going to go get my cap and gown and come back to sleep until I have to go to work at eleven," he said.

  “About your job—" Jane began.

  “Todd, Willard needs a few Frisbee tosses before I go," Mike said. "You know where it is?”

  Todd got up and went back in the house and Mike sat down. "Look, Mom, I know everything you're going to say. Somebody got killed at the deli—"

  “You knew that?"

  “It's what everybody's saying. Mel and a couple other cops are talking to everyone who was there and that doesn't happen for an accident. Anyway, you don't think it's safe. But, Mom, I can't quit. Mr. Baker's counting on me to do the deliveries. His wife's in the hospital and Mrs. Axton has to do double work to help with the cooking, which she's not very good at, and the cleaning up, and I can't leave them in a lurch like that. But I'll make you a deal. I'll only go inside to pick up stuff to deliver. If it's not ready, I'll wait outside. I really should be helping in the kitchen and stuff, but I won't if it'll keep you off my back about it."

  “That's a deal," Jane agreed, knowing he'd keep his end of the bargain and vowing that she would, too.

  Todd came back with the Frisbee and Mike flung it for the dog a couple times before he left. "So what's up for the day, Todd, old thing?" Jane asked.

  “Taking my Legos over to Elliot's. He's got a book of things you can build and there's this neat spaceship, but he doesn't have enough pieces."

  “But if you mix them up, how will you know which ones are your
s?" Jane asked, wishing the answer would be that he was giving all of his to Elliot. As much as she'd invested in them, it would be an unbelievable luxury to know she'd never step on one of them in the dark in bare feet again.

  “Oh, we'll remember," he said, dashing her hopes.

  “Promise me you'll take them away with you when you go to college," she said wanly.

  “Yeah, sure," he said, rolling his eyes.

  Jane went inside and tried to wake Katie, without any luck. By the time she'd showered and dressed, Katie was still asleep. "Get her, Willard," Jane said.

  Willard didn't know many tricks, but he loved this command. It meant he had permission to leap on a bed. He did so now, giving Katie a sloppy lick.

  Katie shrieked, thrashed around, and burrowed under the covers. "Mom! Get him off me. That's disgusting!"

  “Katie, it's eight-fifteen. You have to be at bible school before nine."

  “That's centuries away!" came the muffled reply.

  “Five more minutes. That's all. C'mon, Willard.”

  By the time Jane had run a brush through her hair, contemplated and rejected the idea of a new perm, and slapped on a minimum of makeup, she could hear Katie crashing around, so she went back outside. Shelley called invisibly from some window of her house. "Going to be there a while?”

  Jane looked at her watch and called back, "Seventeen minutes.”

  Shelley appeared through the garage door a moment later. "Jane, maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but your youngest child appears to be running away from home. He's trudging down the street with a suitcase."

  “Gee, I hope he gets a good job and sends money home," Jane said. "That's his Lego collection going to Elliot's house."

  “For good?" Shelley exclaimed.

  “Don't get your hopes up. Elliot's mother is no fool."

  “Did you talk to Mike about his job?”

  “Mike talked to me first," Jane said. She recounted the conversation.

  “So it's common knowledge that somebody pushed the rack over on Stonecipher," Shelley said.

  “Well, at least that there's something fishy about it. Maybe if he hadn't been so thoroughly disliked, people might just think the police had time on their hands.”

  Shelley had brought along a thermal mug of coffee and took a long, cautious sip. "You know, somebody must have liked him. Didn't he have adherents to any of his causes?"

  “Oh sure, but then he'd move on to another cause and lose them. Nedra Payne practically worshipped him when he was campaigning to outlaw smoking everywhere, including inside people's own houses. She even tried to get me to sign her petition. I wished I'd come to the door with a cigarette so I could have blown smoke in her face. A cigar would have been even better."

  “Nedra Payne?" Shelley asked.

  Jane blew out her cheeks like balloons. "Oh, that Nedra Payne. The woman with the figure like Kentucky."

  “Right. He was her hero until he lost that one, then he got on the thing about the fast-food restaurants, and she took offense because he made some slighting remark about how she obviously wasn't interested in her health or she wouldn't burden her heart with all that extra weight. And she told me all this, expect‑ ing sympathy. I just looked at her and said, 'What's your point, Nedra?' “

  Shelley laughed. "You're getting better and better, Jane."

  “You're my role model. Shelley, what's your take on this? Who would actually kill the man?"

  “I haven't got any idea. I know it wasn't me and I'm fairly sure it wasn't you," she added with a grin. "Jane, are you absolutely certain you didn't hear any voices while you were in that bathroom?"

  “Oh, a sort of general rumble. There were so many people around. And I could hear somebody talking outside. You remember, people were wandering all over the building and grounds. And I don't often pee with my ear pressed up against the nearest wall. The first unusual thing I heard was the crash of the rack and even that was pretty muffled. I thought somebody had just dropped something heavy. Like a tray of dishes. Except there wasn't that clinking sound dishes would make. Just a couple thumps — I guess that was the hams — and then almost instantly, the big thump."

  “If you were right there, why didn't you open the door and see who came out of the room?"

  “In the first place, I had no idea it was all that important. Secondly, I had soap all overmy hands. I had to rinse them, then took a few seconds looking around for the towel rack. By the time I opened the bathroom door, there were people all over the hallway. All running toward the room. I tried to ooze past, but got caught in the crush and pushed into the storage area. And got myself back out as quickly as I could."

  “Who else was in the room then?”

  Jane shrugged. "I have no idea. I just saw the rack and the hams all over the floor and Robert Stonecipher in the middle of it. Sort of under the rack. But I could see his head and with that distinctive hair, I didn't even have to wonder who it was. Wait. Sarah Baker must have been in the room and back out before I even got there because somehow she stumbled into me, crying and saying that he was dead. Not he by name, understand. I was horrified that she meant Conrad.”

  As she spoke, Meow leaped onto the top of the fence that separated the back of her yard from the field behind. There was something that looked like a limp twig in her mouth. "Katie," Jane yelled. "Make sure the kitchen door's closed. Meow has a garter snake.”

  There was a dramatic shriek and the slam of a door.

  “Bloodthirsty things, cats," Shelley said with a shudder. "Speaking of blood — was there a lot?"

  “I don't think there was any.”

  Jane got up and went toward Meow, still perched on the fence. She waved her arms, and the cat jumped back onto the field side. "I used to try to save the snakes," Jane said as she returned to the patio table. "But then I realized that the more snakes Meow kills, the fewer my chances are of ever finding one in my washing machine again."

  “I thought I was going to have to get out the sewing machine and whip up a straightjacket for you the time that happened," Shelley said.

  “Shelley, I've got to go in a minute, but the reason I asked who you think killed him is this: when Mel said the guy's wife and business partner were both there and knowing that his secretary was there, too, it made me start thinking. Aren't there all kinds of statistics that murder victims are usually killed by somebody they know really well? And who knows somebody better—"

  “—than his wife, partner, and secretary," Shelley filled in. "Still, most people aren't as heartily disliked as he was by so many other people. And while you and I might not think a fight over a zoning problem or the finances of a divorce are motives, it's probably because we haven't been the target of them. Imagine if he was threatening your very livelihood, or your children's future. Think how you'd feel if he'd taken all your money and you couldn't send Mike to college because of it.”

  Jane nodded. "You could be right. But I, for one, want very badly to know who did this — because of Mike's job." She glanced at her watch and suddenly stood up. "I've got to go."

  “Where?"

  “To drop Katie off, then help decorate the school for the big graduation party tonight. Katie—!”

  Several years earlier, after three tragic graduation night accidents, the high school PTA had decided to accept the fact that the new graduates would stay up and party all night the evening of graduation, and it was better to provide them a place than to let them roam around in vehicles. From a modest beginning, the PTA-sponsored party had assumed gigantic proportions.

  There were three bands and dance floors: romantic, country, and hard rock. These were real bands, hired professionals, most of whom were persuaded to work for free or at least reduce their rates for the good cause of keeping the teens alive. There were also "restaurants" set up. The kids could eat and indulge in soft drinks all night long if they had the stomach for it. The decor for the dances and the restaurants was stunning, and the wealth‑ ier parents had been known to spend outrag
eous sums to one-up one another in decorating their assigned areas. There were movie rooms, where videos played endlessly; a fashion show for the girls; and an area where the boys who were a bit behind in their hormonal development and would rather play basketball than mess about with girls could do so.

  But the centerpiece of the graduation night festivities was the casino. Real casino equipment, slot machines, roulette wheels, and all the other appurtenances were rented and set up along the main hallways. But instead of actual money, the kids were issued a set amount of fake money with which to play.

  During the year the PTA's primary activity was soliciting prizes to be given by drawing or purchased with fake gambling proceeds. A strict and highly complex computerized system had been developed and honed to make sure that every student got one and only one prize, but some of them were doozies. This year there were five televisions, two computer-printer combinations and a laptop, a half dozen airline vouchers, numerous fancy telephones, little dorm room — sized refrigerators, CD players, wireless speakers and headphones, concert tickets, camping gear, exercise equipment, and clothing. In addition, there were hundreds of gift certificates for gasoline,dress shops, office supply stores, restaurants, music stores, and software stores. Students' names were entered only for those prizes they were interested in, so everybody was sure to end up with something he or she wanted.

  Jane, as the mother of three kids in the school district, wasn't expected to take a big role in the process for the first child. The PTA philosophy was that if you worked first-timers to death, you'd never get them back. So her assignment was to help with the decorating of the casino/hallways. She'd also have to stay up all night as a door guard to keep the kids from wandering off. That was the part she was dreading, not having actually stayed up all night since the night Todd was born — and not by choice then. The nurses had claimed she was the only maternity patient they'd ever had who thought sleeping through labor was an achievable goal.