Murder Ala Mode

by Constance Barker

  Dun-tun-tun…

  “Sounding pretty good there, Zack,” I said.

  “Thanks, Miss Howard. My grandpa has some old recording of The Shadow and Mercury Theater on the Air from the 30s and 40s. They did some pretty cool stuff. Ketty and I got some ideas for sound effects during the play too.”

  “Great!”

  Ketty Fike was a high school girl who bussed tables for me on the weekends, and now she and Zack were spending a lot of time together.

  “What are you using for the gunshot, Zack?” I asked him.

  He adjusted the setting on his keyboard and pressed a key. Bang!

  “Oh! That sounds very realistic.”

  “Yeah. I got it off an old rerun of Gunsmoke.”

  “Yep,” Red said as he paced in front of the counter in his late Victorian era long brown tweed suit and plaid vest, “I thought that sounded like Marshal Matt Dillon’s Colt .45 Army-issue revolver. I got one just like it that my granddaddy used in the Spanish-American War.”

  “You gentlemen better get some food in you before the play begins,” Smoke said emerging from the kitchen with a platter of small slider hamburgers on buns. “You’ll get a little stage food in Act Two, but it’s going to be a few hours before you get a real meal.”

  “And I’ve got a bucket of French fries for you boys too,” JP said, walking out behind Smoke. He was wearing his chef’s whites, including a double-breasted white chef’s jacket and poufy hat.

  “Ooh la la! The French chef is bringing a little class to our tiny eatery.” I walked over to him and straightened out his collar. “Careful,” I added. “That top button of yours is a little loose. It’s hanging by a few threads. I can get one of the ladies to sew that for you, if you like.”

  “Not to worry,” he said with a smile. “I’ve got a spare one in my satchel. I get five fresh ones every week from the laundry service. They take care of lost buttons and small rips and things like that. There’s another platter of food in the kitchen for the ladies, Mercy.”

  “Great! I’ll run it up. I want to see how they’re doing anyway.”

  I grabbed the box of mini-burgers and fresh veggies that Smoke had prepared for the ladies and headed out the back door. A young man and young woman were standing outside by the dumpster looking a little lost.

  “Hi! Can I help you find something?” I said, with the door still open behind me. “The bakery is two doors that way, and the liquor store is on the other corner.” I smiled at them brightly, but they both shook their heads.

  “No, but maybe you can help us find somebody,” the woman said. “My drama professor said he was going to be at a place around here, but I must have gotten the directions wrong. We were looking for a big dinner theater restaurant.”

  “Yeah,” the young man continued. “And my brother has a restaurant in Calhoun, and he’s supposed to be there too.”

  “Oh! Are you JP’s brother? I’m Mercy – and you’re at the right place. This is my little diner – or, rather, my dinner theater for a day. Chef Lamour and Professor Zorn are both inside. Go on in,” I said looking over my shoulder as JP came back into the kitchen from the dining room. “JP, you’ve got some visitors!”

  “Thanks, Miss…Mercy,” the woman said shyly. “I’m Betsy and this is Del.”

  “Pleased to meet you!”

  The two went in, and I walked up the stairs to Babs’s apartment and let myself in.

  “Hi, ladies! I come bearing snacks.” I walked through the kitchen into the crowded living room, which was buzzing with chatter and laughter and smelled of perfume and hairspray.

  “Mercy!”

  I heard Ruby’s plaintive voice pleading for my attention.

  “Come and zip me up!”

  I set the food on the coffee table and turned to look at Ruby as she rushed up to me with tiny steps. She was wearing a shimmering red satin gown with a skirt that was long on one side, short on the other, and festooned with feathers along the rising hemline, which showed her shapely leg up to the hip. She wore very high red spike heels and a silvery sequined headband cocked to one side with a long black feather on the side.

  “My gosh, Ruby! You look beautiful!”

  She gave me a dubious look and slight eye-roll. “I probably look like a red banana or one of Santa’s elves who fell into the wrapping machine. Help me! I can’t reach the zipper.”

  I pulled up the zipper, which didn’t resist at all, the way my zippers do when I try to squeeze into a tight dress.

  “You are a vision of loveliness, Ruby.”

  “Thanks,” she replied modestly. “Am I falling out?” She tugged on the slightly revealing sweetheart neckline and wriggled her shoulders. I would have felt naked, but it looked very sophisticated on her.

  I just shook my head. “Everything is falling into exactly the right place, girl. That dress was made to fit your curves perfectly.” The girl looked fabulous.

  “What are you going to sing, Rube?”

  “Oh, some classic Sinatra kind of stuff, I think.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, this little burger is just what I needed,” Babs said, grabbing a second one as the other ladies focused more on the veggie platter. “Thanks for thinking of us!”

  “Of course – but Smoke put this little feast together for you without any prompting. And you look like a beautiful duchess, Babs,” I told her honestly.

  “Oh, I don’t know. But it’s so much fun to wear these clothes that women wore a hundred years ago or more.” she whispered as she lifted her skirt, “And I’m even wearing frilly bloomers and a tightly laced corset! I can hardly breathe, but it’s the thinnest I’ve looked since the 9th grade!”

  Ruby grabbed Babs’s face and smiled with bright eyes. “You are some real man-candy tonight, sweetie. You look divine!”

  Babs blushed and looked away, but I think she really appreciated the comment. Then she clapped her hands loudly twice. “Okay, everybody, finish up any last-minute primps. It’s time to get downstairs.”

  “Oh, my!” Ruby exclaimed, looking at the antique gold watch she had worn for the occasion. “I have to start singing in fifteen minutes! Walk down with me, Mercy. I don’t trust myself in these shoes. I’ve got to make sure Zack has my music ready.”

  She navigated the stairs better than I did in my comfy flats.

  “Gangway!” I hollered to the guys as we entered the rear of the kitchen. “Hot stuff coming through! Keep this floor clean and dry, Smoke. A lot of ladies will be coming through in heels and nice dresses.”

  “I’m way ahead of you, Merse,” he answered. “Whoa…” he said, almost in a trance as he got a look at Ruby. But he snapped out of it after almost tripping over his own feet. “I turned the fryer sideways to make more room, and I laid down rubber floor mats from the back door to the swinging doors.”

  Dirk wandered in to put his plate by the dishwasher, and Smoke put him to work. “Kid, help me move this prep table out of the way too.”

  We breezed through the hot kitchen, which smelled twelve kinds of delicious from all the fancy food that was cooking, and headed into the dining room. There the mood changed instantly into a classy, dimly-lit club with lovely mood music coming from Zack’s keyboard.

  Betsy and Del, the two from the back lot, were standing on either side of the doors as we entered. “Don’t worry, Miss Howard,” Betsy whispered. “The director said we could sit on the floor next to the green curtain. No one will see us, and we won’t be in the way.”

  I nodded with a tight smile and looked around the diner.

  Reggie Zorn excused himself to get past us into the kitchen, eyeballing Ruby up and down, but she didn’t notice. “Lot’s of delicious things here tonight,” He said with a grin, sniffing the aroma and ogling Ruby’s dress.

  Most of the seats were already full. Jake and Junior were seated in the middle of the counter at their usual stools. Junior looked a little nervous about his directorial debut, so I gave him a wink and a thumbs-up.

&nb
sp; The father-son team had covered the windows with ornate curtains to keep out the light and distractions from the street. They had even covered the food pass-through window to block the bright lights in the kitchen.

  The booth seats along the front wall were moved into “L” formations so nobody would have their backs to the stage, and there was a row of round cocktail tables-for-two down the narrow aisle between the booths and counter, with a floating candle on each table. I was amazed at the transformation.

  Deloris walked up to Ruby and me in her French maid outfit. “What’s the matter? You’ve never seen a fancy restaurant before?” she groused with a glint of a proud smile.

  “It looks wonderful, Deloris. You and Babs and the girls did an outstanding job. I-I almost don’t recognize the place.”

  “I saved the two end stools at the counter for you two ladies. Ruby will be next to you, and then the director and prop man. Everything else is reserved. The chair at the end of the counter here is for Brody, since he doesn’t come in until Act Three.

  “Looks like you’ve thought of everything, Deloris,” I said with an appreciative smile.

  The swinging doors from the kitchen opened violently, and Dirk came tripping forward, like he had been pushed. Reggie Zorn was close behind.

  “Watch you back, nerd boy. Try a stunt like that again, and you’ll be picking up your teeth off the floor.” Then Reggie looked at me. “Sorry, Miss Howard. Maybe it was just a little misunderstanding.”

  Fortunately, most of the crowd didn’t notice, and Deloris finished up her information drop.

  “And your stool for your singing is front and center, under the red spotlight, Ruby,” Deloris said, as strains of It Had to Be You started flowing from Zack’s keyboard. The house lights went lower, and the spotlight shined down on the empty stool.

  “That my intro!” Ruby said, taking a deep breath. “Wish me luck!”

  “Break a leg!” I told her squeezing her hands.

  “Knock ’em dead, sweetheart,” Deloris said with a pat on her shoulder.

  The chatter in the diner hushed as Ruby sat on the stool and crossed her legs. All eyes were on the beautiful lady as she began to sing.

  It had to be you, it had to be you

  I wandered around and finally found, that somebody who

  Could make me be true

  Could make me feel blue

  And even be glad just to be sad, thinking of you…

  I found my stool at the counter step or two away and sat without taking my eyes off my friend. She was really a marvelous entertainer, but I’d never heard her sing a melodic soulful classic like this before. Usually she did the classic rock songs, like Crazy on You and Heart of Glass.

  The front door opened, and I looked to see if it was Brody. It wasn’t. It was a rather odd-looking elderly man, rather short and lean. He wore a wrinkled old-fashioned double-breasted suit with a bowler hat, and he had a grey mustache and a claw foot walking stick. He looked around, perhaps like he was lost, so I approached him, corralling him toward the door so as to not interfere with the song.

  “Can I help you, sir? This is the Old School Diner, but I’m afraid we’re booked tonight for a special event. Perhaps you can try…”

  “Yes, yes, young lady,” the old gent said in an upper-crust British accent. “I know where I am. I booked the front table for your little mystery play. Dig Duggery’s the name,” he said, handing me a business card, “from Skullduggery, Limited. I flew in from London a week ago to give a series of lectures on criminology and the art of deductive reasoning at the university, and I heard about your play. I’ll have this case figured out before the crime occurs, I should think.”

  I was both impressed and entertained by his eccentricity, confidence, and distinguished presence. “Yes. Of course, Mr. Duggery…”

  “Professor, if you don’t mind, Miss.”

  “Yes, Professor. Your table is right here, and all ready for you. But you bought the whole table for four. Will you be having guests?”

  “Not if I can help it. I prefer to work alone. No distractions, and all that sort of thing, you know. Thank, you, ma’am…”

  “Mercy, if you don’t mind.”

  He nodded. “Thank you, Miss Mercy. I’ll seat myself. Send your girl around with a pitcher of water, scant ice, about 10 degrees Celsius should suffice.” He tipped his hat and, with a smile and nod, took his seat.

  He was an interesting but peculiar old fellow, reminiscent of an aging Sherlock Holmes himself. And now all the tables were full. As soon as Brody arrived, I could lock the front door.

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t keep track of all these new people around here, Mercy.” Brody looked a little bit nervous as he arrived through the front door, waiting until Ruby had finished her first song before he entered.

  “Did you…?”

  “Yes, I turned the thumb lock on the deadbolt.” He sat on the chair next to me at the end of the counter. He had his long vintage car coat slung over his arm and was wearing a Western shirt with an old-fashioned cowboy string-bow tie for his role. “I mean, I’m usually pretty good with names, but there are just too many to keep track of.”

  “Is my cowboy a little nervous?” I asked with a smile as I leaned in to collect a kiss on my cheek. I’ve been feeling really close to Brody lately. “I’ve introduced you to everybody, I’m sure, Brody.”

  “Well, I’m not here for all of the rehearsals; just when we practiced the last two acts. And I’m sure I’ve never seen those two sitting by the curtain there.”

  “Oh, right. Betsy is one of Professor Zorn’s drama students, and Del is Chef JP’s brother. They’re just here to watch.”

  “Chef JP?”

  Zack started playing the intro to Ruby’s next song.

  The kitchen doors swung open, and a few actors walked in and headed behind the green curtain for some final primping before heading back to the kitchen.

  “I know Randi Taylor and Professor Reggie Zorn…and…”

  “That’s Dirk.”

  “Right. The butler. Who’s the Charlie Chaplin character in the front booth? Did they add a new character to the play?”

  I laughed. The old man did look like he belonged at Berkshire Manor. “Ah, that is the famed Professor Dig Duggery from London. Some sort of criminologist, I guess. He thinks he can solve any mystery before it happens.” I handed him the crumpled business card that was still in my hand.

  Zack did a very nice arpeggio at the end of his intro, and Ruby strode down the aisle, slaloming the cocktail tables as she sang Fly Me to the Moon.

  “Looks like the scullery maid is getting ready to introduce the play after this song,” I said and watched him go a little bit pale.

  “Looks like you’d better have a few sips of this wine to settle your nerves, there, Sheriff,” Deloris said as she poured a half-glass of the red port wine into a small stemmed glass for him. He held it up in a silent thank-you and downed it in a gulp. It didn’t take long for his cheeks to take on the color of the cheap wine.

  “Just what I needed,” he said as Ruby strolled up singing the final strains of the song.

  Fill my heart with song

  Let me sing forever more

  You are all I long for

  All I worship and adore

  She brushed her hand against Brody’s cheek as she sashayed around him with her eyes glued to his. Then she turned her gaze to me as she quickly whispered something in his ear with a huge grin on her face. Brody’s affirmative nod back to her seemed to make her giddy. Then she sang directly to him again.

  In other words, please be true

  In other words, in other words

  I love you.

  “Um, Brody…?” I was a little uneasy at this over-familiarity between my man and my best friend, who also just happened to be the most beautiful woman within 200 miles of Paint Creek.

  “Yes, Dear?”

  “Is there something going on that I should know about?”


  He looked confused for a moment, until he saw me glance towards Ruby as she took her final bows to enthusiastic applause and whistles.

  He smiled and let out a little chuckle. “Nope, not at all, Mercy. It’s not something you should know about.”

  My jaw dropped, but before I could ask what he meant by that remark, the lights dimmed, and Deloris began the play. Her Cockney accent was very polished now – or maybe I should say very coarse and raw.

  “Gree’ings, m’lords and ladies. Welcome to our little soiree here at Berkshire Manor. On account-a it’s the taxes from your labors that support the lifestyles of the gentry and aristocracy here in Essex, or is it Sussex…?”

  “Wessex!” Babs hollered out on cue from the kitchen.

  “Well, I knew it was one of those sex places,” Deloris continued.

  I told Junior the line wouldn’t get laughs, but it did get a few chuckles.

  “They – the counts and dukes and duchesses – will be serving you tonight, as we invite you to join us for a fine dinner.”

  The actors in full costume burst out of the kitchen, each with a small tray of Caesar salads that they distributed to the guests in the most flamboyant manner. They also distributed note pads and explained to people to keep track of any clues they might pick up about tonight’s mystery, and to note any questions they might want to ask the cast between acts when they delivered additional courses of the meal.

  After a minute, Deloris continued. “You’ve each been given three 20-pound notes that you can use to find out information from this bunch.” She took a half-step forward and leaned in toward the crowd, whispering loudly with the back of her hand alongside her mouth, presumably so that the actors wouldn’t hear her.

  “You see, this whole lot is nothing but a bunch of fancy, well-dressed criminals, scoundrels, and scallywags, so you’ll need to bribe them if you want to get any useful information from them. But, beware! They’ll smile in your face and lie right through their teeth if they think they can come between you and your money.”