“All right, I’m decided. You speak to Josephine and I’ll speak to Alice. We’re just talking about the event and then seeing if they’ve remembered anything else that might be helpful for either Amos’s or Gabriel’s death,” said Myrtle. “Try to stay focused.”
Miles said with a shrug, “Josephine has already disappeared while we were talking. And, now that I glance at my watch and my program, I see that it’s time for Wanda’s lecture.”
“You could always skip it. They’ll stream it online later,” said Myrtle.
Miles raised his eyebrows. “And Wanda would watch that . . . how?”
It was true. Wanda wasn’t exactly set-up for technology at the hubcap shack. Myrtle sighed. “All right, then. I’ll go speak with Alice and you go tape Wanda’s lecture.”
Miles reached in his jacket pocket for his phone and then frowned. He pulled out a small piece of paper. “What’s this?”
Myrtle peered at it. “Considering the chicken-scratch, it must be a note from Wanda.”
“How on earth am I supposed to read it?” asked Miles. He turned it from side to side and then upside-down.
“Here, give it to me,” said Myrtle impatiently, pulling it from his hand. “For heaven’s sake. Alice is likely to disappear in the interim.” She studied the paper for a few seconds. “It says for you to remember the ginger ale for your headache.”
Miles said, “This must be the second or third time I’ve heard this from her. And I don’t even have a headache.”
“It sounds as if she’s keeping an eye on you and your headache as well as Puddin’s safety. She’ll be exhausted by the end of the evening. I’d like to speak to Puddin, myself. It occurred to me that I haven’t asked her about the fact that she didn’t recognize Alice Porper when we went into the store,” said Myrtle.
“Was she supposed to?”
“Of course! Puddin had said that she’d seen Alice leaving when she arrived at Amos’s house the morning of his murder. Then she said that she’d never laid eyes on Alice before. So who did she see if not Alice?” asked Myrtle.
Miles glanced at his watch and said, “I need to get going to that lecture.”
Myrtle said, “I’m going to try to talk to Alice and/or Puddin. See you later.”
Miles walked toward the lecture tent and then turned around, the faintest of headaches starting up. “Myrtle! Do you still have the ginger ale?”
But his voice was swallowed up by the crowd as Myrtle continued walking away.
Myrtle was having no luck spotting Alice, Philomena, Josephine, or Puddin. She felt as though she had walked for hours. It was as if they were trying to be deliberate impediments she thought crossly. Instead, she’d kept running into people that she’d rather not talk to and would prefer to avoid. What’s more, her feet were starting to hurt from walking on the parking lot asphalt.
There was a jaunty honk of a horn and Myrtle looked behind her to see Tippy smiling at her from the golf cart. “Would you like that ride now, Myrtle?”
Myrtle was about to snap a rejection but then hesitated. “What time is it, Tippy?”
Tippy glanced at her diamond dinner watch. “Nearly nine, why?”
Myrtle gave her a sweet smile. “I’d like to take a turn on the golf cart.” It was getting late, and this may be her only opportunity speak to all of the people she wanted to.
Tippy brightened. “Really? Why, that would be absolutely wonderful Myrtle, if you don’t mind. I haven’t had the chance to attend any of the lectures so far and there’s one coming up that I particularly wanted to listen to.”
Myrtle said, “I’m happy to give our seniors a spin for a while. Now.” This because Tippy didn’t seem to be in any hurry to dismount.
Tippy then carefully dismounted and said. “You do know how to drive it?”
“Naturally,” said Myrtle.
“All right then. If you have any trouble or if you want to be relieved of your duty, just call me,” said Tippy.
Myrtle carefully climbed into the driver’s seat and gave Tippy an impatient wave. She lurched off with Tippy frowning after her.
After a few minutes, Myrtle concluded that driving a golf cart was most certainly not like driving a car. Whoever had come up with such a ridiculous notion was clearly demented. Her driving was wild, her braking jerky.
Myrtle scanned the crowd for Alice and Puddin. The entire town seemed to be at the gala. It was no wonder she had such a hard time selling her tickets. An elderly man with a walking stick waved her down for a ride. “You walk better than I do!” snapped Myrtle as she drove on. The man shook his walking stick at her. She proceeded to turn down four more requests for rides.
“I’m telling Tippy!” called out Tessa McLendon angrily behind her as Myrtle sped away.
She briefly saw Miles waving at her from some distance away and shook her head impatiently. “Can’t stop now!” she mouthed.
A minute later, Myrtle spotted a lean figure in front of the swimming pool gate. Wanda. She parked the golf cart and grabbed her cane, leaving her purse in the cart. “Where’s Puddin?” she asked.
Wanda said to Myrtle, “You and I are walkin’.”
Myrtle followed Wanda as she pushed open the old metal gate leading to the pool.
“That should be locked,” said Myrtle with a frown.
“Anything else botherin’ you?” asked Wanda.
Myrtle said, “What, about the case? As a matter of fact, there is. I’ve wanted to speak to Puddin, myself. She said that she’d never seen Alice Porper before after we spoke with Alice at the dress shop. So who did Puddin see leaving Amos’s house the morning of his murder?”
Wanda raised an eyebrow.
“I bet you have a pretty good idea, being a psychic and all. But I’ve pieced it together, too. Puddin must have gotten Amos’s girlfriends confused. If it wasn’t Alice, it must have been Philomena,” said Myrtle.
Wanda opened a door into the pool house.
“Everything here is shockingly unlocked,” muttered Myrtle again. “Anyway, you must be following Puddin because Philomena is onto her.”
“Why is Philomena after her?” drawled Wanda in the tone of someone who already knows.
“Because Puddin is such a big mouth,” said Myrtle with a sigh. “She told Philomena at the library that she was better than Sherlock because she’d figured out who’d been responsible for Amos’s death. What’s more, Puddin was at the garage when Gabriel was discovered. She might have seen or heard something that she realized later pointed to Philomena.”
“But you ain’t lookin’ fer Philomena. Yer lookin’ fer Puddin,” noted Wanda.
“Because Puddin is apparently hopelessly inept at staying out of trouble. I don’t want anything to happen to her,” said Myrtle grudgingly.
Wanda peered through the window of the clubhouse out to the pool deck outside. “Found you both of ‘em,” she said in a serious voice.
Myrtle took a quick look through the window. Puddin was sitting on a chaise by the pool with her bag of takeaway food next to her. Myrtle watched in horror as Philomena slipped up behind Puddin and put her hands around Puddin’s neck.
Myrtle plowed through the door, brandishing her cane. “Stop that!” she bellowed in a commanding teacher’s voice.
Philomena turned around in shock and moved threateningly toward Myrtle.
“Leave her alone,” said Puddin furiously.
Philomena snorted. “As if you two could stop anybody.”
Wanda walked out the door staring levelly at Philomena. Just her appearance was enough to make Philomena stop in her tracks. Then she rushed to the clubhouse door, shoving Wanda aside to get in.
Wanda raised her voice. “Miles and Erma! She’s comin’!”
Myrtle frowned. Miles and Erma?
Myrtle and Puddin hurried through the clubhouse behind Wanda. They saw Miles shaking a broken ginger ale bottle at Philomena on one side and Erma menacingly swinging a shovel at her on the other.
But they u
nderestimated Philomena’s determination to get away. She swung wildly around to run. Which was when Tippy hit her with the golf cart, knocking her flat.
Myrtle stood over Philomena, holding her cane threateningly. When Philomena didn’t stir, Myrtle said briskly, “Miles, call Red for me.”
Tippy, her face white, was shakily getting out of the golf cart. “Oh no,” she gasped, looking at Philomena lying prostrate on the ground. “I was looking for you to find out why you weren’t on your golf cart shift. I’d heard allegations of . . . misconduct.”
Myrtle said, “Tippy, you actually saved the day. Philomena was trying to kill Puddin. She was the murderer all along.”
Tippy looked at Myrtle as if she must have had a few glasses of wine. “Philomena? Book club speaker Philomena? Well, I certainly don’t think we’ll try out any of your suggestions.”
At the mention of book club and at Tippy’s acerbic tone, Philomena stirred and then gingerly sat up. Her eyes flared with alarm and she moved as if to run away again.
Myrtle said, “Don’t even try it.”
Puddin growled at Philomena as if to promise that her short, stubby legs would nevertheless overtake an injured Philomena if it came to it.
Erma swung her shovel at Philomena with feeling. Tippy stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Is that one of our gala props?” she demanded.
Erma blushed. “Wanda told me to meet her here at nine with something heavy. I thought we were taking selfies.”
Miles frowned thoughtfully, looking down at the broken bottle. “And I came over to find your purse for the ginger ale Wanda mentioned. At precisely the same time.”
Apparently, Wanda was able to tell time when it suited her. Myrtle said, “We should all be focusing on the fact that Philomena has murdered two people and tried to murder another.”
“Yeah!” said Puddin, putting a hand to her throat and glaring at Philomena, who looked dully back at her. With Puddin’s other hand, she maintained a death grip on the takeaway bag of food.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” asked Myrtle.
Philomena didn’t say anything.
Myrtle said, “Then allow me to fill in the awkward silence here while Miles goes to fetch the ambulance. It’s too bad that your brother has to see you like this, but it can’t be helped.”
As Miles trotted off, Myrtle said, “You weren’t as laid back about Amos ending your relationship as you made out. You’ve always been meticulous about your image in this town.”
Puddin snorted. “Until you went around killin’ people.”
Myrtle gave her an impatient look. “Even then, Puddin. That’s because Philomena never considered that she would get caught.”
Tippy had carefully moved back from Philomena as if her depravity might be contagious.
Myrtle continued, “You see, Philomena was always a brainy child. More than bright—perhaps more than merely gifted. She was raised as an only child since her brother was born so much later than she was. Philomena was doted on by her parents. They made sure that she had everything she ever wanted.”
“Spoilt!” hissed Puddin, who seemed to be getting even more worked up.
Wanda patted her pocket absently for a cigarette and then gave a dejected sigh when she remembered that she’d quit.
Erma said slowly, “So you mean that her parents set her up to think that she could always get what she wanted. And then, one day, she didn’t get what she wanted!”
“Exactly,” said Myrtle, although she was reluctant to encourage Erma. Encouraging Erma never led to anything good.
Tippy said doubtfully, “And she wanted Amos?” Her voice indicated that she’d never thought of Amos as very much of a catch.
Philomena’s face was turning an unattractive shade of red. Myrtle had the feeling that of the people that Philomena most wanted to protect her reputation from, Tippy would rate high on the list.
Myrtle said, “Philomena and Amos actually had a good deal in common. For one thing, they were both intellectuals. For another, they enjoyed good books. And they liked to see plays and concerts and to travel. I’d imagine Philomena was very happy with Amos. Until he suddenly decided to go back to dating Alice. Then she knew she was going to have to punish him for that. It must have been even more of a slap to the face that it was Alice he was leaving her for and not someone else.”
Erma frowned, looking much like a donkey in distress. “It made it look like he was sorry he stopped dating Alice! Like he was sorry he dated Philomena at all.”
Tippy breathed, “So she sneaked over there and murdered him.” She gaped, horrified, at Philomena.
“The library where Philomena worked is very close to Amos’s house. She could easily slip over there, knock Amos over the head with the glass bottle, and then slip back to the library,” said Myrtle. “What was more, she had some interesting knowledge. She knew that Puddin had had a public argument at the library with Amos over backpay. So there was a ready suspect after she murdered Amos.”
Puddin spat out, “Sneaky!”
Myrtle shrugged. “She was taking a chance, considering that it was daylight, but think about it: no one would think it was odd that Philomena was there. As far as most people knew, they were still in a relationship. Philomena was careful not to bring in something that appeared to be a weapon, instead using a heavy object that was readily available inside the house. And Philomena was likely swift about it. How did it go, Philomena? Did you tell him off and then wait for him to turn his back on you to get some food and hit him?”
Philomena ended her silence. “I told him exactly what I thought of him. He didn’t seem bothered about my opinion.”
“Which only fueled the anger, I’ve no doubt. You hit him over the head and left to return for the library. You were so focused on getting away that you didn’t realize that Puddin had spotted you as she’d arrived at Amos’s house to clean,” said Myrtle.
Puddin seemed to have gotten a sudden realization. “Hey, yeah! I saw her.”
Myrtle said, “And maybe after word had gotten out that you’d discovered the body, Puddin, Philomena started thinking about it. Maybe you’d seen something.”
Philomena said in a detached voice, “Or maybe she hadn’t. It was hard to tell. And it had been a while before the police were called. She might have arrived much later after I’d left.”
Myrtle said sharply, “But she hadn’t. She’d merely taken the opportunity to watch her favorite game shows and slack off, completely unaware that Amos’s body was in the kitchen.”
Tippy gasped at the mental image of this tableau. Or perhaps she was gasping at that anyone had a favorite game show.
Philomena shifted on the ground and groaned. “Where is Steven?”
At that point they spotted Miles, not moving nearly as quickly now as he had when he’d trotted off in search of the ambulance. When he approached them he said, still breathing rather hard, “Another ambulance is on the way. Steven’s ambulance had to transport someone to the hospital in the one here.” He gave Philomena a wary look as if she might leap savagely at them at any second. He stood back with Tippy.
Myrtle beamed at Miles. “We were walking through the murders with Philomena.”
Philomena’s glower indicated that Myrtle was taking more of a solo stroll.
Wanda prompted Myrtle. “Then Puddin showed off.”
Puddin whipped her head around to frown at Wanda.
Myrtle said, “That’s indeed the case. When Miles and I took Puddin to the library to pick out a book, Puddin stated that she knew exactly who the murderer was. Philomena might have taken that as a threat.”
“It was a stupid thing to say,” said Philomena icily.
Tippy said with a frown, “But what about Gabriel? Gabriel was attacked before Puddin was.”
Myrtle said to Philomena, “You must have felt as if you were under siege from all sides, didn’t you?”
Philomena shrugged. “Everyone seemed to know something. And I was unlucky.
Gabriel had dropped by the library when I was at Amos’s house. He asked for me at the circulation desk and was told I’d stepped out for a minute to make a phone call.”
Myrtle nodded thoughtfully. “So you acted as if you were still going to be on the library grounds, in preparation for your alibi. But there was no phone call, of course. You’d stepped outside to rush to Amos’s house. And Gabriel, when he stepped outside to look for you on the phone, never saw you.”
Wanda croaked, “Bad luck. Or bad karma.”
Myrtle continued, “Then Gabriel realized what it all meant when he learned that Amos had been murdered. He knew that Philomena didn’t really have an alibi.”
Tippy said, “And that she had a motive.” She put her hand protectively to her throat as Philomena shot her a look.
Wanda said, “Then more bad luck.”
Myrtle said, “More bad luck for Philomena and for Puddin. Puddin, you clearly must have happened upon Philomena at Gabriel’s garage.”
Puddin frowned suspiciously and Miles clarified, “You saw Philomena when you were at the garage.”
Puddin looked defensive. “Didn’t know I did.”
“Well, I saw you,” said Philomena with a snarl.
“Don’t mean that I was payin’ attention,” said Puddin heatedly.
“The problem is,” mused Myrtle, “that Philomena assumes everyone is as clever as she is.”
Miles said, “So Gabriel was blackmailing Philomena, then? Just as Amos was blackmailing him?”
Myrtle said slowly, “I don’t somehow see Gabriel that way. I see him more as a big cat torturing a small, helpless creature.”
“Except that I wasn’t helpless,” said Philomena. “And I wasn’t in the mood to play games. He came by the library the day before the funeral and made all of these vague references right in front of other patrons.”
“He enjoyed that, I bet,” said Myrtle. “And then you started worrying about Puddin. Realizing she was also going to the gala, you looked for an opportunity to get her alone. Which she provided when she decided to go put her feet up for a while and eat.”
“Better than them loud speakers and no comfy seats,” muttered Puddin.
Cleaning is Murder Page 18
