When Jane arrived at the school, a few minutes after nine, it appeared to be a madhouse. The building swarmed with parents; a caravan of large trucks was unloading tables, chairs, and sound system gear. The one person who didn't seem to be frantic was Patsy Mallett, the amazing woman who oversaw the whole operation. Jane caught sight of her, sailing serenely through the chaos.
Jane reported to the head of the casino committee and was given a stepladder and a trolley that was stacked high with dark fabric, tacks, a hammer, and a box full of large cardboard-and-glitter stars and moons.
“Start to the south of the main door, overlap the fabric exactly two inches along the ceiling molding, and put two stars and moon on each section," were the curt orders she was given by a woman so over organized, she made Shelley seem like an aimless slob.
Jane did as she was told, and was just ready to climb down from her ladder and admire her first section of work, when she looked down and recognized the top of Mel's head. He stood just inside the door, notebook in hand.
“Mel, we have to stop meeting this way," she said.
6
"This is taking the prize for my most tedious investigation," Mel complained two hours later. He'd been roaming around the school, trying to locate and interview a number of the many people who'd been at the deli opening. Not only was it hard to find them, but getting them to stop their work and talk to him was nearly impossible.
But Jane did notice that a number of women took the time to look him over pretty carefully. Too bad he wasn't smiling — that dimple when he smiled would have made them topple off their ladders. At least it always made Jane feel as if she were toppling off something.
“I've heard of nine-day wonders, but this is hardly a nine-hour wonder," he said to Jane, who was taking a short break from her job. "Nobody seems to care that this guy died in their midst."
“It's not that they don't care — well, that's part of it — but they're busy, Mel," Jane explained. "There's so much to be done here and a very short time to do it. Most of these people have been planning this for a year, and now it's show time at last. They're like a great big Olympic team that's been training forever and now they're down to the wire. The woman in charge of this hallway stuff I'm doing had actually practiced and timed putting the stuff up."
“So how come you get to come sit outside? Aren't you wrecking the schedule?" he said grumpily.
Jane ignored his bad temper. He was often this way at the beginning of an investigation. As he started accumulating information, he'd cheer up. "Oh, she built in a break, efficient woman that she is," Jane said with a laugh. "Besides, there was a glitch and I'm missing a box of glittery stars."
“What a weird world you live in," he said.
“Not really. You just haven't done a lot of volunteer work, Mel. It has to be treated like a real job to be effective."
“Well, I'm not being very effective at my real job," he said.
“As far as nobody caring — he not only wasn't very well-liked, but they don't have kids in the school district," Jane said.
“What have kids got to do with it?"
“A lot. Most of the people I know well, for example, are either fairly close neighbors," she said, ticking the categories off on her fingers, "or people I do business with, or people I know through the kids and their activities. Not just school stuff specifically, but car pools, sports teams, lessons, recitals, stuff like that. The Stoneciphers were neighbors and some people had business dealings with him, but without kids, they're out of a big part of the loop. Actually, I think they have a daughter, but she's older and must not live at home with them. At least, I've never met her. Of course, his wife was involved in some civic stuff. In fact, she's a born organizer. And he involved himself in lots of things, but his chosen role was always antagonistic to somebody. Or a lot of somebodies. So if people seem to be callous about his death, those are a couple of the reasons."
“It's not just that they're callous," Mel said. "That's okay. A lot of people who get themselves killed aren't terribly well-liked. And I've investigated cases where nobody even knew the victim, they just happened to be witnesses. No, it's that there were such a mob of people at the deli and nobody seems to be able to pinpoint where anybody was at any given time. I can't even begin to get a fix on where anybody was when the rack was pushed over. Like you, a lot of them know where they were at the time they heard the crash, but unless they were actually speaking to someone at the time, they can't say where anybody else was."
“It was a social thing, Mel. Nobody knew they needed to pay any attention."
“I know. I know. But it's making me crazy anyhow. So far all I've got is a milling crowd and nobody who admits to being first on the scene or can tell me who else was. And I'm not even sure it matters."
“What do you mean?"
“Just that there's a second door to that storeroom. Somebody could have pushed over the rack, dodged out the door, come back in another door and acted surprised with the rest of the mob."
“But I thought I heard voices outside. Did anyone see someone come out the door?”
Mel shook his head. "Nope. But the door leads to a covered passage where they store trash containers."
“Oh, right. The trellis thing with the honeysuckle growing on it. I remember seeing that. And there are two doors opening onto it?"
“Right. One from the storeroom and one opening onto the kitchen. You could go out one and in the other without being noticed unless you crashed into the trash and drew attention to yourself."
“Mrs. Jeffry?" a voice called shrilly.
“Oops, I have to get back to work," Janesaid, getting up hurriedly. "Mel, you're not going to poop out on chaperoning with me tonight, are you?"
“Nope, I'll probably fall asleep standing up, but I'll be here.”
"Shelley, the police aren't getting anywhere," Jane told her an hour later. Jane was folding a pile of table napkins as Shelley finished ironing each one.
“Come on, Jane. He was just grousing to you about his job. And he's not the entire police force. You have no idea what else they know that Mel's got no reason to tell you about."
“Like what?"
“Like fingerprints on the rack for example. Maybe they, already know who did it and Mel is just trying to get additional information to enhance their case, not prove anything. Hey, you're supposed to fold them, not wad them up."
“Hmm, I didn't think to ask him about fingerprints. But I can't believe he'd be acting so discouraged if that were the case." She meticulously refolded the napkin and held it up for Shelley's inspection.
“Better. Look, Jane. Suppose for some reason you had to interview everybody at the grade school graduation and find out where everyone was for every minute. Can you think of anything more tedious and boring?"
“Okay, I'd be cranky, too. But according to him, it's a lost cause because of the doors and that little trash barrel area behind there."
“All right. He's got the lousy assignment. So what?"
“So I think it wouldn't hurt if we could give him some useful information. You know perfectly well people will be a lot gabbier with us than with him."
“You know how he feels about you butting in," Shelley said, laying out the last napkin on the ironing board and spritzing it with water.
“What I have in mind isn't butting in. It's just being neighborly. We really should make a sympathy call on Rhonda Stonecipher. We'd do that anyway, even if Mike didn't work at the deli and I wasn't frantic to see this thing solved."
“True," Shelley admitted.
“And we ought to send flowers to Sarah Baker at the hospital, and it would be much nicer if we delivered them in person.”
Shelley finished pressing and unplugged the iron. She set it on the kitchen counter and folded up the board. "That's a little iffy. But you're the one who's going to have to explain it to Mel, not me."
“Unless we learn something interesting, there won't be anything to explain," Jane said.
Jane introduced herself and Shelley, reminding him that they had sons on the soccer team he was coaching, and said, "We just wanted to tell Rhonda how sorry we are."
“Come in," he said. "She's just meeting with the funeral people. I think they're almost finished. Would you like some coffee or a soft drink? Or something to eat? There's a whole houseful of food."
“You go back to Rhonda," Shelley said, looking around. There were flower arrangements shoved everywhere and boxes of food where there weren't flowers. "We could put some of this away for you.”
He looked around at the chaos piling up and smiled with gratitude. "That would be great. You sure you don't mind?"
“Not a bit," Jane said. "We'd be glad to be of some use.”
Tony disappeared, and Jane and Shelley got busy straightening out the neighbors' offerings. They carried all the food items to the kitchen, and while Shelley rearranged the re‑ frigerator to make room for some casseroles, Jane set the flowers around the living room as artfully as she could. When Jane rejoined her friend in the kitchen, Shelley was shaking her head in wonder. "I'm going to wrap these two hams and put them in the freezer. Why on earth would anybody send hams to the family of a man who died under a pile of them?"
“It wasn't really a pile. And maybe they didn't know. There's probably another freezer in the basement or garage," Jane said quietly. "They've got everything else. This kitchen could give the deli a run for its money. What's that gadget?"
“I think it's a juice extractor."
“One of those things that can turn cabbage into a drink?" Jane asked. "I can't imagine wanting to drink the juice of something that doesn't have juice. Like carrots. Give me one of those hams. I'll see if there's a freezer downstairs.”
When she returned a few minutes later, she looked stunned. "What a basement!" she exclaimed. "There's a pool table the size of Oregon down there. And the tiles on the floor have silver dollars embedded in them!”
Shelley giggled. "Sounds like the recreation room of a whorehouse."
“Whorehouses have recreation rooms?"
“I don't know, Jane! It just sounds nouveau riche and trashy. The rest of the house is gorgeous though. Did you get a load of the dining room table? I priced those when I was shopping for my new table, and they're damned near as expensive as a car.”
Jane lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Wouldn't you think if you had that kind of money, you'd be contented?”
Shelley shrugged. "I guess people tend to be either happy with life or not. But if I had a house like this, you'd never get me out of it.”
Although the Stonecipher house was larger than its neighbors, it gave no hint from the outside that it was so elaborate inside. An old house, it had undergone tremendous renovations. The living room, dining room, and kitchen had been large rooms and had been rendered enormous-looking by the removal of most of the supporting walls, which had been replaced with graceful pillars. The floor levels had been changed as well. The living room was a huge sunken area with a pale peach-tinged marble floor showing in small patches between the many fine Oriental rugs. The dining room and kitchen were up two steps. The walls of the entire large area were done with a light-colored grass cloth that added to the spacious impression. When Tony Belton had gone to rejoin Rhonda, he had passed through large double doors at the far end of the dining room, presumably to rooms beyond the "public" area.
“Wouldn't you love to explore?" Jane said. "I'll toss you for who gets to take them coffee," Shelley said with a grin.
But this plan was doomed. The funeral director and his assistant departed before the coffee could brew. Rhonda showed them to the door, then approached the kitchen area. "Jane! Shelley! How wonderful of you to come help me out at this awful, awful time. I burst into tears when Tony told me you were here. I knew I could count on you. Such good friends.”
She folded Jane into an embrace scented with a perfume Jane didn't recognize, but guessed was terribly expensive. Then, still holding Jane's hand tightly, Rhonda hugged Shelley. "What would I do without you two," she said.
Rhonda Stonecipher was, as always, beautifully dressed. Today it was cream linen slacks with a matching blouse and summer weight sweater. Her hair looked freshly set, her makeup flawless, and she even had on exquisite earrings and a coordinated bracelet. Jane tried to accept this as normal, even though she could vividly remember the day after her own husband had died. Jane recalled standing at the closet door and staring blankly at the contents as if she'd never seen clothing before and had no idea what to do with it. Expertly matching jewelry to a stylish outfit would never have crossed her mind.
But then, it seldom crossed her mind in normal circumstances either unless Shelley reminded her.
“We're so sorry about your loss," Jane said.
“It was a terrible shock," Rhonda admitted. "But everyone's been so kind. Dear Tony has been helping me with the arrangements for the funeral." With that, she let go of Jane and Shelley and transferred her grip to Tony, who looked a little startled, but pleased. "Tony helped me decide on the coffin. Such a terrible word, coffin. And such a terrible thing to have to decide about. And the funeral people asked me all sorts of things that I never gave a thought to. Like things for the obituary in the paper, for example. Robert's degrees and professional organizations and exact dates. Tony had it all in a file. No wonder Robert was so pleased to have him for a partner.”
She was babbling, but she was entitled to, Jane figured. "Sit down and rest," Shelley said. "The coffee's done and you really should eat something. Jane and I will bring it out to you.”
Dabbing at the corners of her eyes, careful not to mess up her makeup, Rhonda let Tony lead her away to the sofa grouping in front of the enormous fireplace in the sunken living room. Shelley gave Jane a quick look that si‑ lently said, "We already have things to talk about.”
When they joined Rhonda, Tony had disappeared again. "He's making some phone calls for me," Rhonda explained without prompting. "The state bar association and some old friends and neighbors. Oh, dear — it doesn't seem possible that this has happened, does it?"
“It's a terrible shame," Shelley said. "And it must be very hard on you."
“Yes, but it could have been much worse for Robert." At their perplexed expressions, she added. "You see, he had an absolute horror of illness and a lingering death. He was so active — so enormously active. Physically, mentally, socially. To have been rendered inactive would have been hell for him. At least his death was very, very quick. I know if he'd had a choice, that would have been his preference."
“Do the police have any idea what happened?" Shelley asked innocently.
“They're not telling me anything," Rhonda said with what would have been called a pout in other circumstances. "Just asking questions. Terribly personal questions, some of them.”
Tony Belton had come back into the room. " — which I keep telling you you're under no obligation to answer," he added.
“But Tony, I have nothing to conceal. And I want the person who did this awful thing apprehended as soon as possible.”
Tony didn't comment, but held out the list of names and phone numbers. "Rhonda, I think one of these is wrong. I keep getting a pizza restaurant.”
The doorbell rang and Tony started to get up. Shelley stopped him. "I'll get it. In fact, Jane and I need to be moving along. We'll come back later on and help with the food, or tidying up or whatever you might need.”
They went to the door, where two more neighbors stood. One had a box of pastries from an expensive bakery. The other had a foil-covered casserole in a raffia basket. Shelley showed them in, and as she was closing the door, they could hear Rhonda saying, "Mart
ha! Nancy! How wonderful of you to come help me out at this awful, awful time. I knew I could count on you. Such good friends."
“Hmm. Why does that sound familiar?" Shelley said.
7
"Why are we rushing off?" Jane asked.
“Because she's not a real person. She's a recording. She's not going to say anything interesting or useful. Not unless you're willing to be patronized for days on end while you wait."
“But did you see the looks she was giving Tony Belton?”
Shelley nodded. "That's a woman who is either having an affair or wanting to have an affair."
“I agree. There was something hungry and greedy in the looks, the little touches, the sad but provocative smiles. I wonder if Mel has seen them together. Do you think a man would pick up on that?"
“Even if he did, it wouldn't be evidence—" "But it's sure a nice motive, isn't it?" Jane said, getting into the car. "The wife and part‑ ner could get all the benefits of his business, his investments, everything — and without the bother of having him around. Which has to be a relief to both of them on general principle. A person like that can't be easy to live with or do business with."
“Do you really think we ought to go to visit Sarah in the hospital?" Shelley asked.
“Why not?”
Shelley shrugged. "I'd feel perfectly all right about it if she were in for surgery, but a mental breakdown? What do you say to somebody who's gone off the deep end?"
“The same things you say to anyone. Hope you're feeling better. Chat about neighborhood news — well, maybe not. Let's deliver the flowers and ask at the nurses' station if they think she'd like company. She probably doesn't. And if she does, we'll just be cheerful.”
They stopped at a florist shop and got a couple sprays of fragrant pink lilies in an especially pretty clear vase. "We're bringing these for Mrs. Baker," Jane said at the nurses' station when they finally found the right floor. "Should we leave them with you, or—"
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