“That’s a tough one,” I said. “Right now we don’t have any reason to think that his death is anything other than natural. If we knew it was due to foul play, then I’d say go ahead and tell her everything you know. But unless she gives you some indication that his death wasn’t natural, I wouldn’t volunteer the information.”
“I agree,” Helen Louise said. “No point in bringing up sexual escapades that we don’t really know much about.”
“Thank you both,” Melba said. “I feel better now. I’m praying that poor Denis died naturally, but I have this awful feeling it’s going to turn out to be a lot more complicated.”
Sergeant Bloesch came back and this time took Burdine and Elmore with her. Melba went back to sit with Paul, and we chatted among ourselves about various topics, none of which had anything to do with Denis Kilbride. The room slowly emptied until only Helen Louise, Miss Dickce, and I remained. By now we were getting close to dinnertime, and Diesel had grown restive. I decided that the next time the sergeant came in, I would ask her if I could take Diesel upstairs to our room before she questioned Helen Louise and me.
As if she had read my mind, the sergeant walked into the room. Before she could speak I stood and asked permission to take Diesel upstairs to our suite. The sergeant shrugged and gave her permission. She asked Miss Dickce to accompany her, and I told Helen Louise I would return in a few minutes.
“Come on, boy,” I said to the cat, and Diesel happily accompanied me upstairs. As we headed toward our room I glanced ahead at the door, and what I saw caused me to stop abruptly about thirty feet away. From this vantage point it looked to me like the door stood ever so slightly ajar. I proceeded toward it now with caution. Was there a burglar in our room?
When we reached the door, I held Diesel back from entering the room until I peered through the crack. I saw nothing amiss in that first glimpse of the room, but my area of vision was necessarily small. I slowly pushed the door open wider, and the scene that gradually revealed itself to me showed me that everything appeared to be the way we had left it. Puzzled, I pushed the door all the way open and advanced into the room.
Had we not closed the door properly when we went downstairs earlier? I thought about it for a moment before I concluded that we had closed the door completely. With pets in the house I had learned that doors had to be closed and locked to keep a certain feline from opening them and getting out. Diesel had learned early on how to manipulate doorknobs, and he often let himself out on the back screened-in porch at home.
Then a slight sound coming from the bedroom reached me, and I froze in place, Diesel by my side. He looked up at me and seemed about to meow, but I stuck a finger to my lips. He knew that gesture, and for once, he obeyed it. He must have sensed my disquiet. Usually nothing deterred him if he had a comment to make.
We moved as quietly as possible toward the bedroom door. It stood wide open, and when we reached it, a figure crouching by the bed stood, turned around, and screamed.
Cora. Only the maid. I felt relieved but also a bit annoyed.
Cora sank onto the bed, one hand clasped to her chest. She gasped out the words, “You frightened me.”
“Sorry about that. You made me a bit nervous, too.” I knew my tone was somewhat brusque, but that was my irritation coming through. “What are you doing here? I didn’t see your cart. Are you looking for something?”
Cora nodded, still seated on the side of the bed. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Then she patted her head. I noticed that the dainty linen-and-lace cap she wore wasn’t there.
“Did you lose your cap?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I lost my pin, and I thought it might have fallen out in here when I made your bed earlier.”
“Was it there?”
“No,” she said. Her eyes welled with tears. “I can’t find it anywhere. My great aunt left it to me in her will a few years ago. It’s an antique, the only really nice thing I have.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, full of sympathy for her. Keepsakes from departed relatives were precious reminders of family, and losing a treasured one could be devastating.
“Thank you.” She rubbed away the tears and got up from the bed. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I’m just beside myself over this.”
“I promise we’ll keep on the lookout for it,” I said. “If we find it, we’ll let you know immediately. I’m sure the other guests will be happy to do the same.”
These words didn’t seem to cheer Cora. “It’s really valuable. If somebody finds it, they may decide to keep it for themselves. I’ll never see it again.”
“I don’t think that’s the case,” I said in a hearty tone. “I know these people, and I don’t think any one of them would do such a thing. I’ll talk to them for you, don’t worry.”
She looked up, a dawning expression of hope in her eyes. “You’d do that?”
“Yes, I will. You go on about your work, and stop worrying. I’m sure your pin will turn up.”
She sniffed. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be on my way now.” She hurried past Diesel and me and out of the room.
Diesel had remained at my side during my conversation with Cora, and now that I thought about it, I realized it was unusual. Normally if he’s in the presence of someone who’s sad, he wants to comfort the person. But he hadn’t attempted that for Cora. Something about her had put him off, whereas it hadn’t when he first met her. I couldn’t figure out what it meant.
Surely she wasn’t lying about the loss of her pin. Had it been an excuse for her to search our room? Had she been looking for some trifle to steal?
Suddenly I wasn’t sure about leaving Diesel alone in the room. I didn’t like the idea of someone coming into the room and leaving the door open. Diesel had more than his share of feline curiosity, and if he spotted an open door, he’d likely walk through it.
I knew I needed to get back downstairs soon, but I thought I could take long enough to let Diesel drink some water, eat a little kibble, and do anything else he found necessary before I took him back downstairs with me. The next time I saw Cora I would stress to her the importance of making sure the door was closed properly if she happened to find Diesel alone in our suite.
Helen Louise texted me a couple of minutes later, asking me why I was taking so long. I replied that we would be back in a couple of minutes.
“Come on, Diesel. Let’s go,” I said.
I heard a few more sounds of scratching in the litter box, and then the cat came loping toward me from the bathroom. I reattached the leash, and we headed downstairs to rejoin Helen Louise.
We found Sergeant Bloesch waiting for us at the door to the meeting room. “I’m sorry for the delay,” I said.
“It’s okay.” She indicated that Diesel and I should precede her into the room. She closed the door firmly behind her and took a chair opposite the sofa where I sat with Helen Louise, Diesel at our feet. “Sorry this has taken so long,” she said. “Miss An’gel assured me you’re used to this kind of thing.” She looked pointedly at me.
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
Helen Louise chuckled.
The sergeant nodded. “What I’m looking for is any background you can give me on the deceased. We’re still trying to find out about his doctors and any medication he might have been taking.”
“We can’t help you there,” I said.
“No,” Helen Louise said. “Neither of us knew him. More of a passing acquaintance than anything. He would sometimes eat at the French bistro I own, but I didn’t know the man, except by reputation.”
“Same for me,” I said. “I couldn’t tell you anything about his personal habits or his private life. I’ve heard more about him since we arrived in Asheville than I ever knew before.”
“And what would that be?” Sergeant Bloesch asked.
“Apparently he was dating Ellie Arnold,” I sa
id. “Right, Helen Louise?”
She nodded. “Yes, though that’s the extent of what I know about their relationship.”
“Is there anything else, anything at all, that you can tell me about him?” Sergeant Bloesch looked hard at me for some reason. I had to wonder exactly what Miss An’gel had told her about me. Surely she hadn’t regaled the sergeant with any of the murder investigations in which I was previously involved. I squirmed in my seat.
“Nothing that I imagine you haven’t heard already from other members of the group,” Helen Louise said.
I nodded. “He seemed to have a combative personality, if what we witnessed last night was any indication of his character.”
“I’d like to hear your take on what happened,” the sergeant said.
Helen Louise and I exchanged a glance, and I turned back to face the sergeant. “We—the group, that is—were in this room discussing Golden Age mystery writers, and Denis Kilbride suddenly swept in, making angry statements to Zac Ryan. That was when Johnny Ray Floyd stepped in and knocked Kilbride down. If he hadn’t, I’m not sure what would have happened. Kilbride seemed really angry to me, and I suspect things would have turned violent between him and Zac Ryan.”
“How did Ryan react to this?” the sergeant asked.
I tried to recall. “I can’t remember. I don’t think he had much time to react, because Johnny Ray stepped in so quickly.”
“Do you agree with this description?” Sergeant Bloesch looked at Helen Louise.
“Yes, that’s how I would describe it,” she replied.
“You didn’t observe anything that Mr. Harris didn’t mention?”
“No,” Helen Louise said. “Wait, there was something else. Zac and Johnny Ray shook hands after the punch.”
“You’re right.” I felt annoyed with myself for forgetting that.
The sergeant scribbled something down before she resumed her questioning. I thought it odd that she didn’t ask further about the handshake.
“Did you see Mr. Kilbride again that evening?”
“No,” we said in unison.
“How about this morning?”
“No.”
The sergeant considered us for a moment. Then she rose. “Thank you both. I appreciate your time.” She nodded at Diesel. “Would it be okay if I rubbed your cat’s head?”
“As long as he’s okay with it. Hold out your hand toward him,” I said.
Diesel sniffed the outstretched fingers. He evidently liked whatever information he gleaned from his sniffing, for he rubbed his head against the sergeant’s hand. She smiled and rubbed his head in return. Diesel purred for her.
“He sure is beautiful,” she said. “I like cats, and I would love to have a Maine Coon.”
“They’re wonderful cats,” I replied.
Sergeant Bloesch petted Diesel for a few seconds more. She straightened. “Thanks again.”
After she exited the room, I leaned back and let myself relax. I hadn’t realized I had been tense during our session with the police officer. Helen Louise seemed to relax also.
“What took you so long upstairs?” Helen Louise asked.
I told her about Cora and the lost pin.
“I noticed that pin,” Helen Louise said thoughtfully. “It’s quite beautiful, and I think it might be valuable as well.”
“Do you think anyone in the group would keep it and not say anything if they found it?”
Helen Louise didn’t respond right away. When she did, she surprised me. “Yes, I can think of one person.”
FOURTEEN
“Is a member of the group a kleptomaniac?” I asked, astonished by Helen Louise’s reply.
Helen Louise shrugged. “She could be a kleptomaniac, but I think she might do it deliberately because she likes beautiful things and can’t afford them.”
“Who?” I asked. “It has to be either Burdine, Celia, or Ellie.”
“Celia,” Helen Louise said.
“How on earth do you know this?” I asked, still trying to assimilate it.
Helen Louise stood suddenly. “Let’s go back to our room and discuss this. I’m ready to get out of here for a while.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Come on, Diesel.” We followed her out of the room and back up the stairs to the suite.
Helen Louise tucked her feet up under her in one corner of the sofa while I sat at the other end. Diesel curled into a large ball between us. “Okay,” I said. “Now tell me how you know about Celia’s sticky fingers.”
Helen Louise gave a mirthless chuckle. “Sounds like the title of a melodrama. A few women from church have talked to me about this. We’re all members of the Altar Guild, and Celia is, too. According to them, she has helped herself to trinkets from their purses at church and during visits to their homes.”
“Has anyone confronted her about it?” I was trying hard to picture Celia as a thief and failing. She seemed so proper and ladylike most of the time.
“Usually people manage to get things back when they visit her house. She doesn’t try to hide them, so it’s easy to find them and reclaim them. Celia never says anything about it.”
“That’s bizarre,” I said. “Has she ever taken anything of yours?”
Helen Louise laughed. “No, thankfully, because I never carry anything in my bag that would appeal to her. She hasn’t been inside my house in years. I’ve rarely had time to host an Altar Guild meeting since business at the bistro really took off.”
“I’m glad for your sake, then,” I said. “Has anyone spoken to your priest about it?”
“No, because he can be a bit overbearing sometimes,” Helen Louise said. “I imagine most of the women in our congregation are aware of it. I doubt Altar Guild members are the only women that Celia has taken things from. Things like this get around.”
“What about the shops around town?” I asked, aghast at the potential scope of Celia’s thievery.
“That I’m not sure,” Helen Louise said. “I think Celia is aware enough not to shoplift from the stores in town. I believe she limits herself to private merchandise, if I can call it that.”
“That’s a small mercy,” I said. “What do you think we should do about this? If Celia took that pin, we can’t let her go back to Athena with it.”
“If Celia runs true to form, the pin should be easy to find in her room,” Helen Louise said. “Surely Cora will look in there. Did she tell you when she discovered she’d lost it?”
“No, she didn’t, and I didn’t think to ask,” I said. “It must have been sometime today, don’t you think? She would have noticed it if it had happened yesterday. She would have been looking then.” I paused as I remembered something. “She did say she wondered if she’d lost it when she made our bed earlier. I didn’t see Cora around the hotel this morning before we went to Biltmore, or after we got back. Did you?”
“No,” Helen Louise said. “Do you think we could ask her more about it? I’m sure she’d appreciate help finding it, and maybe we could find some tactful way to hint to her that she should check Celia’s room again.”
I snorted with laughter. “If you can do that, then you ought to be a diplomat in Washington.”
Helen Louise gave me a rueful grin. “You’re right.”
“We can ask her to tell us more about when she realized it was gone, and that might give us an opportunity to nudge her. She might even come up with the idea herself, if she hasn’t already.”
Helen Louise shifted on the sofa until she could reach the phone on the end table. She considered the menu on the phone, then punched a number. She identified herself and requested to have Cora come to our room when it was convenient. She listened for a moment, and her expression turned puzzled. “Thank you, I understand. Tomorrow, then.”
She replaced the receiver and put the phone back on the end table. “Cora is
n’t working today, I was told. So I suppose she was here on her day off. Her bad luck that she found the body.”
I frowned. “If that’s the case, what was she doing in here earlier today making the bed? Wouldn’t another maid have been doing it?”
“Maybe they’re shorthanded today, and Cora was filling in,” Helen Louise said. “The bed was unmade when we left for Biltmore, I do know that.”
“And it was made when we returned,” I finished.
“Is a puzzlement,” Helen Louise said.
“Excuse me?” I said. That phrase sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it immediately.
“The king of Siam,” Helen Louise said. “Don’t you remember? The King and I. The king said it.”
Recognition dawned, and I smiled. “Yes, I remember. Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr. This situation definitely is a puzzlement.”
“If Cora is still on the premises,” Helen Louise said, “whoever I spoke to might mention that we want to talk to her. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until she’s back on duty.”
“Yes,” I said. “In the meantime, we can do a little snooping on her behalf. What do you think?”
Helen Louise grimaced. “You mean, go to Celia’s room for a visit, and while we’re there, casually look around.”
“Basically, yes,” I said. “You said she doesn’t hide things, so if that’s the case, we should be able to spot it.”
“Whoever spots it takes it and returns it to Cora, no questions asked or answered.” Helen Louise sighed. “That’s as good a plan as any, I suppose. Do you want to call her and invite ourselves to her room? Or simply go knock on her door without advance notice?”
I considered the issue briefly. “I think we go right now and knock on the door. She does like Diesel, and if he goes with us, she’ll probably be willing to talk to us.”
“You’re being used as a pawn in your daddy’s machinations.” Helen Louise focused her attention on Diesel as she spoke. “How do you feel about that?”
Diesel responded with an interrogative-sounding trill. After a brief silence, he meowed.
Cat Me If You Can Page 9
