Claire Malloy - Poisoned Pins Part 5

When Ed finally calmed down, I said, aIf he suspected that you and Winkle were. . . behaving indiscreetly, he could have been trying to get evidence to blackmail her Something like that would be enough to ruin her career with the Kappa Theta Eta organization, and sheas within one year of retirement and the pension fund. Is there any way he might know?a aHe made a snide remark regarding her size, and I felt the need to discourage any further ones,a Ed said reluctantly. aA couple of times I saw a green truck in the alley near the Kappa house, and asked him about it. The first time, he cackled and said head been at a female mudwrestling match out in the country somewhere. The other, he just said it wasnat his truck. I decided to forget about it rather than try to figure out what head be doing in the alley so late.a aSo you do admit that you and Winkie are having a relationship?a aI seem to have admitted it. We met in line at a movie theater during spring break, had coffee, started talking about this and that, decided to catch another movie later in the week. Weare both misfits in our own waysa-he held up a hand to repudiate any arguments I might proffer-aand we have a lot in common. Then one of the girls who lives in town told Winkie shead seen us, and made some snippy remarks concerning my personal habits and mode of transportation. Winkie freaked and decided we couldnat be seen together in public anymore. We met a couple of times at motels, but then she became paranoid about that and suggested we confine ourselves to late-night trysts in her suite. Randolph was right when he said, aStolen sweets are always sweeter: stolen kisses much completeraa aWere you climbing out Winkieas kitchen window,when Debbie Anne came up the path alongside the house?a Abashed, he cleared his throat before saying, aI was so preoccupied with what had just happened that I didnat even see her until we collided. She has a good set of lungs, doesnat she?a aShe certainly does,a I said absently, trying to keep straight the sequence of events in the sorority yard. aBut you couldnat have knocked down Eleanor Vanderson the following night. It was no later than nine oaclock, and therefore much too early for an illicit liaison. Could that have been Arnie?a aIt might have been, but I donat think heas blackmailing Winkie. Someone else may be, though. A month ago I spotted one of those idiotic pink paper cats in the wastebasket and fished it out. Whoever sent it had taken a felt pen and drawn semicircles over the eyes so it looked as if it were asleep. The written message was a reminder that she had only a year until her retirement. I asked her about it, but she said it was a little joke and clammed up. Sheas been skitterish ever since then, drinking too much, taking by the handful what she says are mild tranquilizers, and continually fretting that the curtains arenat drawn tightly.a I had known her for no more than a week, but I had noticed how nervous she was when she prattled on about the sororityas reputation. Unlike Dean Vanderson, she was not taking blackmail with composure and a vague aura of contempt. aArnie canat be behind it,a I said, mostly to myself. aHeas only been around recently, and he has no access to the paper cats. And heas the last person Iad accuse of being aware of the sororityas rules-and being devious enough to take advantage of them.a aOr sober enough, anyway,a Ed said wryly. aBut you caught him snooping in the bushes with a camera, so he must be up to something. Iad like to wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and choke it out of Mm.a aWhat a great idea, Ed. Why donat you do it, and call me afterward?a aHe never came back to his apartment after the gambling raid, so I called the jail. The desk sergeant said head been released on bail. I donat care if he drowned in a creek, but Iave got to go down to the unemployment office tomorrow and hire another a.s.sistant.a He rose and put on his helmet. aI hope you donat feel obligated to speak to Ms. Vanderson about all this. Winkleas under so much pressure now that sheas liable to flip out if she loses her job.a aI see no reason to tell anyone,a I said, adding yet another tidbit to my growing list of things I ought to pa.s.s along to the authorities. aBut wait! You have Arnieas camera. Why donat you have the film developed? Then weall know if Arnieas into blackmail, or was merely astray on his way to the nearest bar.a He agreed to do so, wheeled his motorcycle out to the alley, and rocketed away in an explosion of gravel. I walked back toward my apartment, having some difficulty imagining Winkie and Ed in pa.s.sionate abandonment, the dragon and mermaid on his back rippling convulsively. National would surely frown on an alliance between a housemother and a biker, no matter whom he quoted.

What a busy girl Jean had been, what with pledgecla.s.s picnics, lectures at the law school, pimping for her sisters, and blackmailing the dean, her housemother, and quite possibly other people. Of the two remaining Kappa Theta Etas, Rebecca was the logical successor to that particularly heinous throne. Shead even needled Pippa about motel rooms, as if challenging me to decipher her innuendo. Little did she know she was dealing with a woman renowned for both her deductive prowess and her dedication to meddling to the bitter end.

When I arrived home, I gazed at the telephone for a long while, debating whether I should call Lieutenant Peter Rosen and tell him what Iad learned. Scowling, I finally continued into the kitchen and put on the tea kettle. It was much too late; the bleary-eyed patrons at the drive-in theater were well into the third movie by now. None of my revelations were particularly urgent. Dean Vanderson had a motive to kill Jean, as did Winkle... and Ed. Rebecca might have decided to take control of a lucrative business. Pippa was a less plausible suspect, but possible. And I couldnat completely rule out Debbie Anne Wray, owner and presumed operator of the lethal vehicle.

aWhere can she be?a I demanded of the whistling tea kettle. aShe doesnat know anyone outside the sorority. She has no other friends and sheas not with her family. The two campus police officers searched the house thoroughly, and-a I stopped conversing with the kettle as I realized they hadnat, not by a long shot.

II turned off the burner, locked the front door, and went down the stairs to the front porch. Only one bedroom light was still on in the sorority house, and after a moment of calculation, I decided that Pippa was awake. Tapping on her window would result in yet another bout of screaming. The Kappas were rather edgy these days.

My knuckles were sore by the time Pippa opened the front door. aMrs. Malloy?a she said as she gestured for me to come inside. Her hair was wrapped around sponge rollers hidden, for the most part, by a lacy pink cap; a phrenologist would have had a stroke at the possibilities. aIs something wrong? Did you see another prowler?a aaGet the key to the chapter room.~~ She dimpled uneasily at me. aWinkie has the only one, and shea~ asleep. Besides, Iad be in really awful trouble if I let you go in there. Only Kappas are allowed to go into the chapter room. Thereas stuff thatas incredibly secret.a aGet the key, Pippa.a Rebecca came into the foyer. She wore a pink nightshirt and her face was glistening with cream, but she was by no means drowsy. aGet the key to what?a she asked.

Winkie emerged from her suite, dressed in the gaudy peignoir Iad seen before. aWhatas going on, girls? Itas much too late to have-Claire?a My hope that I could take a quick, discreet look around the chapter room was not to be realized. aI think itas possible that Debbie Anne may be hiding in the chapter room,a~ I said. aEverybody agrees she has no friends outside the sorority and no place else to go. The campus police searched the upstairs, but not down there.a aShe couldnat have a key,a Rebecca said with a trace of scorn. aThereas only the one, and itas in Winkieas posses- sion at all times. Unless you~re accusing her of collusion with our errant pledge, youare wrong, Mrs. Malloy.a I wasnat in the mood to deal with minor details like keys. aIam not sure whom Iam accusing, or of what. Why donat we check the chapter room and whatever other rooms are in the bas.e.m.e.nt, and then Iall go home and you can go back to bed?a Rebecca shook her head. aNo one except members and pledges is allowed in the chapter room. If you and Winkie want to wait here, Pippa and I can go downstairs and make sure Debbie Anneas not huddled behind the furnace. Iam the ranking house officer, and I must insist the rules not be violated.a I crossed my arms and glowered at all three of them. Just once, I thought, it would be nice if my suspects behaved according to the traditions of crime fiction. They should have been so overwhelmed with my relentless logic that we already would be halfway down the stairs, a dog howling mournfully in the distance, the key clutched in someone s sweaty hand, the stairs creaking, our path illuminated by a flickering candle-or at least a single dim bulb swinging crazily from a frayed cord. I wanted melodrama, not obduracy.

aDo the rules also cover what goes on at the Hideaway Haven?a I said abruptly.

Pippa and Rebecca exchanged startled looks. Winkie, in contrast, gurgled and staggered backward until she hit the edge of the desk hard enough to topple the vase of plastic flowers.

aHow did you ... ?a she gasped.

Ignoring her, I said to Rebecca, aEither you get the key or I call Eleanor Vanderson right now. It would be a pity to disturb her.a I paused to slather on emphasis lest they miss the point. aNot to mention her husband.a aSo it would,a said Winkie, her voice tinny and her white fingers entwined in the collar of her peignoir aMy keys are in my handbag on the coffee table, Pippa. Please fetch them and allow Claire to satisfy herself and leave. Iam sure she wonat mention what she sees in the chapter room, and National need never hear about it. It will be our little secret, wonat it?a aGo ahead,a Rebecca ordered Pippa. aYou and Winkie can wait in her suite until weare finished with this idiotic mission.a Shortly thereafter she and I went to the bas.e.m.e.nt, although there was ample light and the stairs failed to produce any sounds whatsoever.

aThis is the door to the chapter room,a muttered Rebecca. She continued down a hallway, opened an unlocked door, and explained without enthusiasm, aThis is where we store props for the rush skits.a A second door opened into the furnace room, a third into a. cavernous room containing a single trunk and a few pieces of lumber. Costumes hung from metal racks in yet another, and the final room was devoid of anything except mouse droppings and a fuse box.

We returned to the door of the chapter room. Feeling as if I were about to be ushered into the innermost sanctum of a shrine, I was almost reluctant to follow Rebecca into the room. I donat know what I expected, but the haphazard rows of metal chairs, a couple of tables, and a droopy banner riddled with Greek letters and stylized pink roses failed to impress me.

aThis is it?a I said.

aSheas obviously not here.a Rebecca stepped backward to force inc out of the room. aYou saw for yourself that thereas no place to hide. Thereas no way she could survive down here unless she brought food and water and only availed herself of a bathroom in the middle of the night.a I remembered something Debbie Anne had told me. aWhat about the ritual closet?a aHow do you know about that?a aI just a.s.sumed all sororities have them,a I lied smoothly aIam not going to count the candles or divulge the color of the high priestessesa gowns, but I think we ought to take a quick look. If Debbie Anne heard us coming, she might be hiding in there now.a aDonat be absurd! Itas already been explained to you that she couldnat have a key in the first place. Winkie has the only key. At noon the day of meetings, she gives it to the president so the room can be prepared, and itas returned to her right after the meeting. Pledges never touch the key.a aBut Jean Hall had it for several hours every week,a I pointed out. aIf she had a copy made, she might have kept it in her purse. The purse disappeared the night she was killed. Youare convinced Debbie Anne is the culprit, so why couldnat she have taken Jeanas purse and now have her key?a Rebecca stewed on it for a moment, then shrugged and allowed me to reenter the room. aLetas get this over with, okay?a she said as she headed for a door along the back wall. As we wound through the chairs, she slowed down and eventually stopped, her nose twitching like that of an amorous rabbit. aWhatas that nasty smell?a I could smell it, too, and it brought back memories of my torturous tenure in the Farberville lockup. aIt seems to be coming from the closet,a I said, measurably less eager to explore the sacred room. aMaybe we ought to call the authorities.a aNational would have a fit if they found out the police were in the chapter room, let alone if they were allowed to look inside the ritual closet.a She wound her hair around her neck and stared at the door, her mouth flattened unattractively as she seemingly considered the available options.

I held out my hand. aGive me the key, Rebecca. Itas likely that an ammonia-based cleaning solution spilled inside the closet. Thmorrow you and Pippa can mop it up without any illicit tourists to unsettle you.a She complied, then edged away as I fit the key into the lock and opened the door. The stench roiled out like tear gas, causing my eyes to flood. I made myself stay long enough to see the body on the floor, then shut the door and retreated as far as I could within the room.

Rebecca coughed and said, aWhat is it?a aArnie Biggies is in there,a I said, gulping for air. aHeas unconscious but not necessarily dead. Weave got to pull him out and do what we can until an ambulance can get here.a I wiped my eyes and cheeks and ordered my stomach to stop convulsing. aWeall both stand by the door When II say so, you open it and Iall grab him. As soon as I have him out, shut the door and go call for an ambulance.

It was not something I want to remember, this extrication, but it was accomplished and Rebecca ran out of the room, alternately gagging and whimpering. The worst of the stench was contained within the closet, but Arnieas jeans were soaked with urine and a veritable plethora of new smells made me feel as if Iad been whisked to the Dismal Swamp.

As I studied Arnieas inert form, saliva bubbled out of his slack lips. He wiggled into a more comfortable position and began to snore. I came to the cold-hearted conclusion he was drunk. How head managed to end up in the Kappa Theta Eta ritual closet was a bit of a poser, but Arnie was a man of amazing slyness, and I wouldnat have checked myself into the b.u.t.terfly farm if Iad found him in a baptismal font-or in Eleanor Vandersonas bed.

I retreated to the hallway to wait for the paramedics and campus officers to come storming down the stairs to collect a despicable drunk. Ed Whitbred had said Arnie had not come to his apartment since his arrest. How had he gotten from a locked cell to a locked closet?

A low, throaty growl interrupted my futile thoughts. I looked over my shoulder. At the top of the stairs sat Katie the Kappa Kitten, her fuzziness silhouetted by the foyer lights, her amber eyes unblinking as she considered how best to rid the Kappa Theta Eta house of this latest intrusion of vermin.

14.

I was sitting in Winkleas suite when the paramedics and campus cops arrived. Rebecca had dressed and taken charge of the proceedings, which was fine with me. I could hear her cool, decisive voice from the foyer, but I made no effort to follow any of the conversations. A wine bottle and mismatched gla.s.ses were on the coffee table, and Katie was clutched in Pippaas arms.

aI might as well pack my bags,a Winkie said morosely, but with a lack of sincerity that made me wonder if she was less than horrified by the idea-or secretly confident that it would not happen. aThis is inexcusable. Men in the chapter room, and that besotted fool in the ritual closet. Eleanor will be on the phone to National in the morning, and Iall be out on the street by noon.a Pippa nuzzled the captive cat. aI just donat understand how that man got in there, unless he ..

aTook the key from Jeanas purse,a I said.

Winkie hiccuped, and with a giggle touched her lips with fluttery fingertips. aWhich means he and Debbie Anne are in this together, doesnat it? One or the other, perhaps both of them, ran Jean down, stole her purse, and used her key to get into the chapter room and the closet. aWhat an odd place for him to choose to hide, if thatas what he was doing.a She hiccuped and giggled once again. aAre you certain Debbie Anne wasnat in there with him? The two might have found it exciting to come up with a few rituals of their own.~~ aI think wead have heard about it,a I said dryly. My wits were dulled by now, but I battled back a yawn and replayed her remarks-hers and Rebeccaas and someone elseas. aItas possible there are several keys to the chapter room. You have the original. Jean Hall had a duplicate made. But doesnat Eleanor Vanderson have a complete set of keys?a aOf course not,a Winkie chided me. aShe has keys to all the exterior doors, the bedrooms, and the main-floor storage rooms, but National allows only one key for the bas.e.m.e.nt. Security is vital, quite vital.a Pippaas dimples were mere shadows on her pale cheeks, and she spoke with the solemnity of an IRS auditor. aAnd youave got to promise not to ever tell anyone what you saw in there, Mrs. Malloy.a As if the worldas citizens were panting to know how many folding chairs were in the Kappa Theta Eta chapter room, I thought sourly. I was about to expound on this when a campus cop stepped into the doorway. To my delight, he was middle-aged, paunchy-and unfamiliar.

aWeave sent the trespa.s.ser to the detox unit at the city hospital,a he said. aAccording to his driveras license, which was revoked eight years ago, his nameas Arnold Riggles and heas itinerant. Heall be interrogated whenever heas sobered up, and if he remembers anything, he can tell us what he was doing here. Miss Faulkner took a quick look around and said nothing had been disturbed. She claims she doesnat know how he got there or why. Do any of you ladies have anything to say that canat wait until the morning?a We shook our heads, and Katie sneezed her denial. He said the investigation would continue in the morning, stressed the need to make sure the house was secured, and promised frequent pa.s.ses by patrol cars. After a bit more thumping and muttered comments in the foyer, the front door was slammed and Rebecca joined us.

aHave you put a curse on the Kappa Theta Etas?a she asked me as she poured a gla.s.s of wine and curled up at the end of the couch, regarding me with the same meditative glint Iad seen in Katieas eyes. aUp until last week, nothing much happened. Now, every time I leave the house for an audition or to shop, I find myself wondering if Iall return to a pile of ashes.a aRebecca!a Winkie said. aYou of all people-a aI was joking, Winkle,a Rebecca cut in.

Pippa dumped the cat and stood up. aIam going to bed. I have a really tough exam in Abnormal Psych in the morning. Good night, all.a aWould you wait a minute?a Rebecca said to me, then followed Pippa out of the room. Alter a hushed conversation, she returned to the doorway and crossed her arms. aIt was awfully clever of you to figure out there was someone in the closet, Mrs. Malloy. Thanks so much for warning us.a aIam sure Arnie will be equally grateful if and when he sobers up,a I said.

Pippa reentered and handed me my key ring. With a dutifully apologetic smile, she said, aIt was my fault, and Iam really sorry for not finding it the first time. I went back and crawled around and around and around the tree until I found it in a hole. I do hope youall forgive me.a aI do,a I said hastily, and then left before I found myself in possession of a pink paper cat and yet another invitation to dinner. I hadnat put a curse on the Kappa Theta Etas. Quite the contrary. Vowing to forget the entire matter and dedicate myself to more important concerns, such as bankruptcy and involuntary celibacy, I returned home.

The door was unlocked and all the lights were blazing away. Caron sat cross-legged on the floor, a calendar spread in front of her. She poised a pencil above it, saying, aOkay, Iall put Merissa down for Thursday morning, but Ashley canat do it that afternoon.a She glanced up at Inez, who sat on the couch amid a great flutter of pages torn from a notepad.

aIf Tara switches to Sat.u.r.day,a Inez said with a frown, athen Ashley can have Friday afternoon. But that means weall have to juggle the schedule for the rest of the weekend.a aHi, girls,a I said cautiously. aAre you planning an invasion? If so, you ought to call CNN and give them some warning. And remember, I donat want to see any nuclear weapons on my credit-card bill.a Caron crossed out an entry before scowling at me. aWe are arranging the schedule for about a dozen My Beautiful Self a.n.a.lyses, Mother Itas very complex, and would be a whole lot easier without interruptions. Look, Inez, some of them may have to change their plans. I Cannot Accommodate every last person who has a dentist appointment or wants to go to the mall.a Inez peered at one slip, then another, her face wnnkling with dismay until she resembled a distressed Pekinese. aBut if Charlene has to baby-sit all afternoon Friday.. .

aShe can find a subst.i.tute!a Caron banged down the pencil and stalked into the kitchen. aYou want a soda?a I considered asking Inez about the sudden demand for Caronas expertise, but I was afraid Iad hear an answer that would result in indigestion and insomnia. It was well past three oaclock. I went to bed, a pillow over my head to drown out the sporadic outbursts from the boardroom of Caron Malloy, Inc.

The following morning I dallied over the morning paper and several cups of tea, hoping to hear the sound of Ed Whitbredas motorcycle so that we could discuss Arnieas unseemly appearance. It was remotely possible that I was hoping-but with less sanguinity-that Lieutenant Rosen might have seen a report of the most current nonsense at the Kappa Theta Eta house and feel motivated to call for details.

When the telephone finally rang, I carefully put down my cup and blotted my lip with a napkin before I picked up the receiver. aYes?a I responded melodiously.

aIs Caron there?a said an umnelodious and much younger female voice.

aSheas asleep, and I have no idea when sheall rouse herself. If you like, I can take a message.a There was a distinct sniffle, then the voice said, aYou tell her that my dadas a lawyer, and he says what sheas doing is blackmail or extortion or something like that, and sheall be in really big trouble if she keeps this up.a aWho is this? What are you talking about?a aJust give her the message.a I couldnat persuade my hand to record a single word of the alarming conversation with the latest anonymous caller My telephone was becoming a veritable pipeline that spewed out threats and dire warnings. I went to Caronas room and shook her shoulder, but all I received in response to my questions was a grumpy, mumbled admonishment to leave her alone. Her co-conspirator kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and although I suspected she was emulating an arboreal American marsupial (more specifically, a Thdelphis virginiana), I returned to the kitchen, gulped down an aspirin with a mouthful of tepid tea, and left them to be dragged away to a juvenile detention facility by someone with more persistence than I.

Once at the Book Depot, I took out a piece of paper and amused myself making yet more notes of noticeably little help. I made one list of potential blackmailers, grimly adding Caron Malloy, and a second of potential blackmailees. Everyone who qualified for neither list went into a jumble at the bottom of the page, and I was trying to devise categories for them when the door opened.

For her morning outing, Eleanor Vanderson had chosen a robinas-egg-blue seersucker suit with a crisp white blouse. Her accessories included a white belt and pumps, a swirly blue-and-purple scarf draped artfully around her neck, a slender silver watch, and a white straw purse. Clearly, she was in harmony with her palette and destined for chicken salad and bridge. Others of us, having chosen frayed denim shorts and one of Caronas old gymcla.s.s T-shirts, accessorized with a cheap watch and a tarnished wedding ring, also cheap, felt destined for nothing more dainty than a hamburger and a diet soda. However burdened as I was with the knowledge of her husbandas dirty little secrets, I deserved no better.

aOh, Claire,a she said as she came to the counter and squeezed my hand, ayou must be ready to bulldoze down the sorority house-and I wouldnat blame you one bit if youad already arranged it. Itas been one nightmare after another for you, hasnat it? The screams, the purported prowlers, that dreadful accident in the alley, that pledge pestering you with her calls, and now this incident last night!a I eased my hand out of reach and folded my arms to cover my incriminating lists (which, regrettably, incriminated only me). aItas not been an auspicious beginning for the summer,a I said, aware that I was mirroring her superficial smile and speaking with an identical undertone of sisterly sympathy. They were finally getting to me, I thought with an edge of hysteria as we continued to twinkle at each other. Iad seen the chapter room. Iad seen the ritual closet. Iad toured the house and eaten their spaghetti. I was becoming Kappa Theta Eta-ized, and before long I would crave pink cashmere. The bookstore would be home to a fluffy white cat. I would become increasingly distraught that Caron had not selected a silver pattern shortly after her birth. Had Eleanor clutched my hand with the secret handshake? Were her lips puckered just a bit? Would I need gum augmentation?

She must have sensed that I was not a sane woman, in that she retreated a few steps and gazed thoughtfully at the store. aThis is so charming, Claire. I canat think why Iave never been here before, but I certainly will make a point of coming by in the future. I love the way youave arranged all this to create a warm, cozy feeling.a aThank you.a aThereas something Iad like to discuss with you,a she continued, abut itas very painful for me and Iam hoping we might find a place with complete privacy, a place where we wonat be disturbed.a aThis may be it. No one has set foot in here aD morning, and I have no reason to believe anyone will in the foreseeable future.a aIam so sorry to hear business is slow, but surely things will pick up before too long. Would it be inconvenient if we sat in your office?a She gave me the look of a poster child from a Third World country.

I led her to the office, took a dozen books off the chair and dumped them in a corner, squinted unhappily at the blackened crust in the coffee pot, and finally settled behind the desk to regard her over a stack of invoices, a cup filled with stubby pencils, several self-help books on the gentle art of organization, and a scattering of dried roaches.

aThis is so difficult.a Eleanor took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed the corner of her eye. aAfter the party ended last night, I asked John what you two had been discussing out by the pool. Initially, he refused to tell me, but I persisted, and this morning, while I was driving him to the airport, he finally related the gist of it. Oh, Claire, I can imagine how you must have felt as he told you those ... repulsive stories, but surely you realize what they were.a aSurely,a I said obediently, if also blankly.

aI suggested he cancel his trip to Las Vegas, but he became so upset that I reluctantly kissed him goodbye and let him go. Iave already spoken to his physician, and the very first thing weall do when John returns is schedule a complete evaluation of his medication.a She dabbed the other eye, then gave me a brave, quivery smile. aIam so glad you understand, Claire. These last few years have been a living h.e.l.l for me, and sometimes I wonder if thatas why Iave immersed myself in the sorority. My grandmother never tired of reminding me that the best cure for personal troubles is a worthwhile charity in need of a chairperson.a aYouare saying that what he told me. . .

aIs nothing more than a pathetic fantasy. John is a brilliant scholar and has published hundreds of articles in the most prestigious journals across the country. He successfully argued in front of the United States Supreme Court on two occasions. Thereas a rumor afoot that the new wing of the law building will be named after him.a She paused to allow me the opportunity to gasp in awe, but I managed to restrain myself. aFive years ago he began to develop a few mild eccentricities-nothing too bizarre at first, but later they became more obvious. I eventually took him to the medical complex in Houston, which diagnosed a degenerative neurological disease that impairs him both physically and mentally. He functions well most of the time, but every now and then he does or says something that has absolutely no basis in reality.a I considered this for a moment. aHe sounded perfectly normal when he told me about his a.s.signations at a motel. I didnat demand details, naturally, but he seemed to have a vivid memory of. . . what took place and with whom.a aHe sounded perfectly normal when he explained to our daughter that head joined a convent and henceforth was to be called Sister Beatrice.a She shook her head and sighed. aThus far, weave been lucky that these episodes have been isolated and have occurred outside the university community. But to tell a virtual stranger that he ... Well, itas clear heall have to submit his resignation as soon as he returns home.

Trying not to envision Dean Vanderson in a fetching black habit, I said, aThen he had no a.s.signations with sorority girls at the Hideaway Haven and Jean Hall was not blackmailing him?a aOh, Claire, I knew youad understand!a Eleanor replaced the handkerchief in her purse and once again rewarded me with a dose of sisterly sympathy. aYouall be relieved to learn that Iave decided to close the Kappa house for the remainder of the summer. Winkle, Rebecca, and Pippa have been told that they must be out by six oaclock today, and they were looking at the cla.s.sified ads and calling various apartment complexes when I left. It will be inconvenient for me to drop by every day to supervise the remodeling, but Iall just have to do it.a Although I was cheered by her news, I wasnat ready to dismiss Dean Vandersonas revelations as the ravings of a neurological degenerate. aIf your husband wasnat being blackmailed, why was there a pink paper cat in his office?a aYou were in his office?a she said, politely incredulous. Since I hadnat exactly arrived at the law school with a search warrant, I bypa.s.sed her question and said, aYes, and I found a cat hidden under a computer It looked like your basic blackmail note to me: terse, ominous, slightly obtuse. I came to your house last night to ask him about it.a aHow odd,a she murmured as she found a gold compact and made sure her mascara had not dribbled down her cheeks during her less than histrionic confession of her husbandas disability After shead flicked off an invisible speck, she snapped the compact closed. aUnless, of course, he wrote it as additional proof to himself that heas not only virile and s.e.xually insatiable, but also an actor in some dark soap opera unfolding around him. Heas become childlike these last few years, and this is the sort of thing that would appeal to his need to see himself as anything other than a pale, plump, middle-aged law professor.a I did not leap to my feet, point an accusatory finger at her, and utter words to the effect that John had no access to pink construction-paper cats. aAnd you have a drawerful of the things at home?a I asked in a resigned voice.

aI keep them in a carton in my study, along with the correspondence with National, confidential reports from alumnae, and the endless files. You and I seem to wage the same battle not to drown in all the paperwork, donat we?a I nodded as she stood up. aThere is one thing more I must beg of you, Claire. Itas terribly important that what I told you not become a topic of gossip. John is not well, and were his reputation to be tainted by lurid and unfounded accusations, it might kill him. I can trust you, canat I?a I a.s.sured her that she could, escorted her out to the street, and resumed my seat at the counter. I now was withholding from the authorities enough information to alphabetize it and publish a set of encyclopedias. On the other hand, the fact that John Vanderson had not carried on with sorority girls and therefore had not been blackmailed was not likely to overwhelm anybody The afternoon dwindled along, as did my attempts to put a lot of seemingly unrelated tidbits into tidy little compartments. No one called to threaten me or my child, and no one called to inquire if I was meddling in an official investigation-if there was one. The police were satisfied with an accidental death and a fugitive who would appear sooner or later Although I could vindicate myself with the revelation that Ed Whitbred and Arnie Riggles had indeed prowled in the bushes outside the sorority house, I could find no other reason to tell anyone. With the house closing, Winkle would have to find an apartment for the summer, and she and her hairy Don Juan could daily in a more routine fashion. John Vanderson would resign from his position at the law school and perhaps occupy his time writing fiction. No doubt the New York publishing house that purchased Nebras qu would be enthralled by juris-imprudent p.o.r.n. Caron would throw her sixteenth birthday party for the benefit of her fellow inmates; I would celebrate my fortieth birthday alone, toasting myself in the mirror while monitoring the ravages of menopause.

It was a splendid foray into self-pity, and I was enjoying myself enormously as I walked home late in the afternoon. As I went past the soon-to-be-vacant sorority house, howevet I realized there was a minor glitch in Eleanoras explanation of her husbandas peculiar behavior He had been on the third floor several nights ago. I tried to tell myself he was engaged in a fantasy, playing detective rather than cowboy or astronaut, but my arguments failed to convince me. He had been there, just as he had stopped at the curb the night of Jeanas death. Eleanor might wish desperately to believe her husband was delusional, that what head told me was nonsense-but she could be wrong.

Miss Marple-Malloy was back in business- I hurried home, found the directory, and called Ed Whitbred. aI presume you heard about Arnie,a I said without wasting a precious second of sleuthing.

aWinkie told me,a he said. aSheas upset about the house closing, but I think sheas better off getting away from those leeches. This morning she and Eleanor had a major row over the chapter-room key. Winkie swears her key has been in her possession since the last meeting of the semester, back in May, and Eleanor finally conceded that saintly Jean Hall must have made a duplicate.a aWill Winkle keep her job?a aShe thinks so. I told her Iad help her look for an apartment, so Iad better-a aDid you have the film from Arnie~s camera developed?a aI dropped it off at the drugstore on Thurber Street, but I forgot to pick it up after work. How about I bring it over tomorrow when I-a aThatall be fine, Ed. Happy hunting.a I hung up, then went to Caronas bedroom to see if there were any messages concerning ball or impending court appearances. All I found were dirty gla.s.ses, a crumpled potato-chip bag, fuzzy dishes under the bed that might lead to a n.o.bel Prize in biochemistry, and her calendar The last item indicated that Gretchen was slated to have her palette adjusted within the hour Idly speculating why Caronas friends had relented, I made a drink and wandered to my bedroom to stare at the Kappa Theta Eta house. The shadows from the scaffold resembled long diagonal bars across the weathered surface. The effect was fittingly sinister.

When it began to grow dark, I drove to the drugstore. After a spirited debate with a genderless dullard regarding my lack of a receipt versus my willingness to stand there all night and argue, I proffered money for a packet of prints. Once I was in the car I took a deep breath and pulled out the product of Arnieas arcane activities.

Head been thorough, capturing not only Pippa in gleeful admiration of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Jean halfway out of a shirt, Rebecca brushing her hair in a diaphaiwns gown, and Debbie Anne in a struggle with a pair of overly tight shorts, but also a dozen more of unknown girls in varied degrees of undress. The backgrounds contained enough pink to identify them as Kappa Theta Etas. Apparently our aspiring Penthouse photographer had lurked in the bushes prior to the end of the spring semester.

Arnie had occupied a position on my list of potential blackmailers, but I mentally drew a line through his name and relegated it to a newly established list of voyeurs. It was odd that head selected this particular sorority, I thought as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway. It was the only house open this summer, but during the previous semester he could have chosen any of the sorority houses on campus, some of which would provide stimulating photo opportunities from less p.r.i.c.kly sites. Was it just another d.a.m.n coincidence?

I drove by the Hideaway Haven twice before persuading myself to bounce across the pockmarked lot and park at what was optimistically designated as the office. Through the dusty window I could see a stumpy orangehaired man in a stained T-shirt and plaid shorts. A cigarette smoldered between his lips, and ashes trickled down his belly. He appeared to be reading a tabloid, although it was as likely that he was unable to meet the literacy challenge and was merely looking at the pictures.

There was no delicate way to handle it, I told myself as I cowered in the car and perspired like a woman eighteen hours into labor Not even one of my role models from a cozy novel could find a way to transact this distasteful business without some tiny slip of her composure. I slunk down further as a car pulled in beside me. Its driver seemed familiar with the process and was in possession of a key within minutes. His buxom companion sauntered after him as he hurried to a nearby room. The lack of luggage suggested professional services rendered at an hourly rate.

I, on the other hand, had all the time I wanted to explore my motives for sitting in my car outside the office of the Hideaway Haven. Was I in the throes of a quest for truth and justice? Was this indicative of my dedication to law and order? Was I genuinely concerned about Debbie Anne Wray-or any of the blasted Kappa Theta Etas, their lovers, or even their painters? Or could it be that I was going to show Lieutenant Peter Rosen that I was not the least bit interested in his extracurricular activities and was perfectly content to meddle in someone elseas official investigation?

I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the packet and went into the office. aExcuse me,a I said coldly, abut Pd like you to see if you recognize any of these girls.a aWhat are you-a high school princ.i.p.al?a I spread out the photographs. aI do not care to discuss my personal life. Have any of these girls ever rented rooms here?a Clearly daunted by my steely demeanor, he studied each photograph with great care, occasionally whistling softly or holding one so closely his breath clouded it. He licked his lips so often that soon his chin was glistening, but no more so than his beady little eyes. I was finally getting somewhere, I told myself smugly as I waited for his response.

aNo, never seen any of them.a He picked up the tabloid and flipped it open. aCan you believe this about Elvis? I for one think heas deaderan a doornail, but people keep seeing him all the time. I donat see how he can keep popping up like this if heas dead.a He scratched his head with enough enthusiasm to send flakes of dandruff adrift.

aElvis is dead, and you have seen these girls before,a I retorted, a shade less smugly but determined to hear the truth if I had to shake it out of him. aIf you refuse to admit it, I will call the police and report indications of prost.i.tution and drug transactions on these very premises.

He wrenched one eye off the aactual artistas depictiona of Elvis entering the White House. aYou got no proof.a aNo, but Iall tell them I do, and once they start poking around, Iam sure theyall find plenty of evidence. If nothing else, there must be enough violations of the health and fire codes to close you down.a He plucked the cigarette b.u.t.t from his mouth and gaped at me as if Iad arisen from the page in front of him and, like the Peoria housewife, claimed to be capable of spontaneous combustion. aBut thatas lying, lady.a aIt most certainly is, and I must warn you that Iave had a great deal of practice at it and will be quite convincing. Would you like to take another look at the photographs?a aMaybe I ought to ask Doobie,a the man said as he dropped the b.u.t.t and ground it out on the floor. aHeas usually on the night desk, but he wanted to switch soas he could watch some fool basketball game. Wonat take more than a minute.a He gathered up the photographs and disappeared through a doorway, the door closing behind him before I could protest.

As I waited, I became aware that I might as well have been on the screen of the drive-in movie theater. The darkness outside emphasized the lights of the office, and I knew I was visible from the far reaches of the parking lot, if not the highway. Unlike the Kappa Theta Etas, I was not haunted by the specter of a tainted reputation, but the thought of having to explain my presence at the Hideaway Haven was so chilling that goose b.u.mps dotted my arms and whatever hackles I possessed rose on my neck. I was tempted to hide behind the lurid pages of the tabloid, then considered the additional hardship of explaining both my presence and my reading material to anyone who drove by. Such as a cop.

Nearly fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed by the time the manager returned, the photographs in his hand and a deeply distrustful look on his face. I closed the tabloid, thus oomed never to find out the facts about Big Footas amorous attack on a Canadian farmwife, and smiled expectantly.

aDoobie ainat seen any of them,a he reported, avoiding my eyes and speaking with all the animation of a dead Elvis. aHe sez theyare welcome anytime, dressed or otherwise, and in particular that piece of angel food cake with the black hair, but he ainat seen any of them. Buta-he held up a grimy hand to stop me from retorting-aDoobie sez Hank might have been on duty some of the time, so you can come back next week and ask him. Hank took his wife to a bowling tournament over in Sallisaw, on account of it being her birthday.a aIt took all this time for Doobie to say that?a I said.

Once again dandruff rained softly on his shoulders as his fingernails dug into his scalp. aDoobie studied the pictures real carefully before he decided he hadnat seen them girls. We get all kinds of college kids out here, especially on the weekends, and they all look the same, a bunch of Kens and Barbies in designer clothes and fancy athletic shoes.

As I put the photographs back in the packet, I decided to take one last shot. aThereas someone else who might have been here frequently,a I began, then proceeded to describe John Vanderson.

The manager flinched, his eyebrows furrowing for a second, his lips suddenly in need of a lick. aNo, n.o.body like that.a Iad seen the recognition in his eyes, the same flicker I'd seen in Winkieas when Iad rattled off the description in her suite. I said as much, but he steadfastly denied having seen John Vanderson, and at last took his tabloid and went into the back room. This time the door slammed a sullen goodbye, although I suspected in his mind it was a more colorful idiom involving areas of his anatomy-or mine.

Lacking the courage to storm after him, I went back to my car As I reached for the handle, I heard a faint groan, and swung around to stare at the impenetrable darkness of the parking lot alongside the building. ah.e.l.lo?a I called tentatively. aIs someone hurt?a A second groan was as slight and insubstantial as the breeze that carried it. It was not the whimper of a sick animal, I decided as I moved toward the corner, crushing the packet in my damp hand, keenly conscious of my vulnerability and my inexperience in dealing with mishaps at brothels.

A few cars were parked in front of motel units, but heavy curtains kept any light from spilling onto the pavement. Across the narrow lot stretched a vast field that undulated like a serene expanse of ocean, dotted only by stubby, skeletal trees and the rotted remains of a car.

I stopped in the oblong of light from the office, shielded my eyes, and peered for some indication of the location of the groaner. aIs someone there?a I called.

Headlights came to life, blinded me, startled me as if I were a deer on the highway, left me rooted and unable to so much as blink. An engine roared. Tires dug into the gravel, spinning and shrieking. The headlights charged me. What flashed before me was not an encapsulated version of my thirty-nine years of life, but a much more vivid image of what Iad resemble if I didnat move pretty darn soon. Pancake batter came to mind.

I flung myself into the side of the building. The headlights veered at me, then swept past while gravel pelted me like hail. I peeled myself off the wall in time to see swirling taillights as the car squealed onto the highway and sped away.

15.

The manager and his unseen pal Doobie did not rush out to ask me if I was all right, and in fact did not so much as poke their noses out of the back room to ascertain if the window was shattered and the floor splattered with blood from my mangled corpse.

Ma.s.saging my shoulder with one hand while picking gravel from my elbow with the other, I made it to my car and eased awkwardly into the driveras seat. Once the doors were locked, I inventoried the innumerable throbs, and concluded nothing was broken or even seriously damaged, with the exception of my amiable nature and sense of humor What a lovely target Iad made, I thought angrily as I removed a chunk of gravel from my raw knee. Had I been invisible to a pie-eyed drunk or had someone tried to frighten me-or kill me in the same fashion he or she had killed Jean Hall?

A station wagon pulled in next to me. Two teenage girls, both dressed in skimpy shorts and skimpier halters, tramped into the office, banged on the silver bell, and exercised their magenta-lined lips until the manager emerged from the back room. After some discussion and a great deal of hilarity, a second man came out the same door, his arms laden with beers and his porcine face contorted with a leer If he was Doobie, then neither of the men had exited through a back door and attempted to run me down. Then again, it had taken Doobie a suspiciously long time to determine that he didnat recognize any of the Kappas. It had certainly been long enough to call someone. But who? I hadnat caught so much as a glimpse of the driver, and I was fairly sure no witnesses would come out of the motel rooms to offer a description of the car or its driver Calling the police might lead to momentary amus.e.m.e.nt when they demanded the names and addresses of the Hideaway Haven clientele, but it ran the real threat of obliging me to explain all sorts of complicated things ... to Lieutenant Rosen.

The little party in the office was well on its way to an orgy by the time I went inside, politely ignoring Doobieas hand inside a halter and the semi-seduction in progress on a noxious red plastic couch, and announced, aSomeone tried to run me down in the parking lot. I insist that you call the police right this minute.a aOh, honey,a said one of the girls, her fake eyelashes fluttering like moribund spiders, alook at your poor knee. Doobie, why doncha take your hand off my t.i.t and get the first-aid box for the lady? Canat you see sheas bleeding like a stuck pig?a She gave me a solicitous smile as she guided me to a chair and settled me down as if I were an errant patient from the nursing home. aIam taking a course in home nursing this summer If Doobieall get his lazy b.u.t.t in gear, Iall fix you up in no time flat.a Perching on the counter~ the other girl popped her gum as if she were chomping down on a firecracker. aWhyad somebody try to run over you? Did you like have a fight with your boyfriend or something? Me and my boyfriend had a fight last week, and he showed up drunk at my house and tried to rip out all my hair. I learned him a lesson or two.a Doobie and the manager were conferring nervously behind her. My would-be nurse repeated her demand for medical supplies while her friend described in gruesome detail how shead dealt with someone named Billy Bob or Bobby Bill or whatever, who reputedly was limping. I simply sat and waited for the two men to figure it out, and after a final exchange of bellicose whispers, they did.

The manager came across the room and thrust out his hand. aLemme see those pictures again.a The girls attached themselves to his arms and oohed and giggled as he flipped through the photographs. Shrugging them off; he said, aYeah, a few of them have been here, but I dint ask for names or anything. This is the sort of place where everybodyas name is Smith, and the only thing I care about is the color of the cash.a aWhich girls?a I asked with commendable composure. He handed me half a dozen shots. aSome of the others may have been here, too, and stayed in the car while their friend paid for the room. Sometimes I happen to see em when they come out to get sodas from the machine, if Iam looking.a Four of the girls were unknown to me. I was less than astonished to find Pippa among the crowd, but my jaw dropped as I gaped at Debbie Anne Wray wiggling into pink shorts. aAre you sure about this one?a He looked over his shoulder at Doobie, who nodded sullenly. aThat one,a he said, sucking on his lower lip, awas staying here up until yesterday. I dunno what she was doing, but she paid for a full week and dint bother anybody.a I rose slowly out of deference to both my knee and a bout of dehabiitating bewilderment. aHow did she get here? Did she have any visitors? When she left, did she say anything about where she was going? Who picked her up?a aThis ainat a Girl Scout camp,a he said, beginning to retreat as I closed in on him. aShe showed up middle of the afternoon on maybe Friday, no suitcase or anything-but thatas nothing new. Once I saw her going across the highway to a convenience store, another time at the soda machine. The only reason I know she split is that the door was open in the morning and I went over to see if shead dropped dead. There wasnat nothing in the room but cups and hamburger wrappers.a aI saw her getting in a truck,a volunteered the girl whoad popped her gum so bombastically. aDarlene and me were hanging out here while Doobie went to buy us some beer, and the only reason I noticed was that the truck was green like Doobieas and I was gonna be p.i.s.sed if head forgotten to get our beer on account of some simpery wh.o.r.e.a aThatas right,a Doobie said from the doorway. aShe left with some clown and never came back. Look, lady, the girls came by to have a little fun, and unless youad like to join us in the back room, why donat you run along?a I was moderately confident that I would not be a.s.saulted in view of the highway, but his tone held enough menace to suggest distasteful possibilities. I wished them a pleasant evening, darted to my car, and drove away from the Hideaway Haven as briskly as the law allowed.

Once Iad parked in my garage, I sat in the dark and examined this most peculiar story. Debbie Anne had appeared at the motel on Friday, the afternoon of Jeanas death, and remained there until the previous morning, when shead gotten in what had to be Arnieas truck and found a new burrow. Based on what little Iad heard, shead done so with no visible coercion or intimidation. And where had the photographer who would be chauffeur taken her? Not to the sorority house. Ed Whitbred had mentioned that Arnie had not been home since the raid, and presumably he would have noticed if Debbie Anne had been hiding next door If shead moved to another motel, Iad never find her- and I was beginning to feel it was imperative that I did. I preferred to think someone had tried to frighten me; whoever it was had succeeded. Suddenly, the dark recesses of the garage seemed more a hiding place for aspiring killers than a storage area for broken tennis rackets, brittle newspapers, and furniture that would never be refinished.

I made sure the bolt on the kitchen door was firmly in place before I snapped on a light and called for Caron. Her failure to answer did not prove she wasnat there, but a quick search did. I was by no means surrounded by silence, however. The bottle clinked against the rim of the gla.s.s as I poured myself a stiff drink, and the ice cubes rattled as I went into the living room and settled on the sofa. Nocturnal birds chirruped in the trees, as did tree frogs and crickets. The woman who lived below me was watching television. An occasional car drove past the house, its headlights flashing on the ceiling.

No motorcycles thundered in the alley, nor could I hear music andlor screams from the Kappa Theta Eta house. Eleanor must have supervised its orderly evacuation by now, I thought as I sipped scotch and studied the ceiling for celestial inspiration.

Eleanor might be a nonpareil of efficiency, but she had been wrong about her husband. The manager of the Hideaway Haven had recognized him, and it was impossible to imagine it as a site for seminars and faculty banquets. Had she also been wrong about his itinerary? Instead of being in the midst of a legal convention (or a hand of blackjack), could he be in the midst of searching the now vacant sorority house for the d.a.m.ning photographs?

I went to my bedroom and peered hopefully for a pinp.r.i.c.k of light from a bobbling flashlight. No light appeared, nor did a disembodied white face drift across a window pane like a reflection of the man in the moon. Only one side of the house was visible, and there was no reason to think head be accommodating enough to show himself on command.

All Iad do was circle the house from a prudent distance, I told myself as I went downstairs and paused in my yard to dredge up an ounce of courage. Foolhardy heroines might creep around attics and dungeons, but Iad had a minor problem with that in the past-and only the arrival of the police had allowed me to remain in any condition to relate the highlights to future grandchildren.

Impressed by my singular display of common sense, I strolled along the sidewalk, my eyes darting furtively at the windows on the upper stories. Once past the house, I cut through the yard of a fraternity house and emerged in the alley, ascertained no cars were lurking in the shadows, and moved cautiously along the side of the sorority house.

At the edge of the porch, I stopped and retraced my path back to the alley, scanned the windows on the back facade, and then went into the area of the yard that adjoined my duplex.

Five minutes later Iad completed the circle and seen absolutely nothing worthy of my stealth. I leaned against the porch and acknowledged the possibility that John Vanderson was in Las Vegas, Debbie Anne and Arnie were at the Dew Drop Inn, Winkle and Ed were cruising down a moonlit country road, Rebecca and Pippa were entertaining men at the Hideaway Haven, Eleanor Vanderson was on the telephone with a neurologist, and I was a failure as an amateur sleuth. A bruised and battered failure, approaching forty, accused of being rnenopausal, with a daughter already embroiled in a life of cnme. And able to alienate a man in a single bound.

A small white form streaked past me and disappeared into the shrubbery. Gulping back a shriek, I stared as it clawed its way up the side of the house to the windowsill, and, with a yowl, squirmed beneath the screen and vanished. Katie had chosen to ignore Eleanoras eviction orders, or some inkling of instinct had compelled her to return home.

If the cat wanted to prowl through the house all night, it was not my concern. Winkie would know where to look and come back for it in the morning. My charitable impulses were confined to my own species, and I had teeth marks on my hand and ankle to reinforce my absolute lack of interest in the catas well-being. Right.

Loathing myself, I pushed my way through the hostile shrub, lifted the edge of the screen, and gracelessly slithered over the windowsill and onto the table in Winkieas kitchen.

aKatie!a I whispered, lacking the sibilance to hiss.

No amber eyes appeared in the dark. Repeating her name softly, I squirmed across the table and managed to get my feet on the floor without banging my head in the process. There was enough light from outside for me to see that Katie was not in the immediate vicinity. The doors to the bedroom and bathroom were closed, precluding her escape into those rooms. I went into the living room. The furniture remained, but personal effects had been removed.

I glumly noted that the front door of the suite was ajar, thus allowing the cat access to the entire house. And I, too, had access to the entire house, I realized as I spotted Winkieas key ring on the coffee table. Beside it was a pink paper cat with the standard saccharine message and a handwritten note explaining how sorry Winkie was that in her haste to move shead not had the opportunity to deliver the keys to Eleanoras house. Wh4 a shame, I thought as I picked up the key ring and went to the foyer, reminded myself of my mission, and dutifully called the cat as I roamed through the kitchen, living room, lounge, dining room, and hallway of the wing where the girls had lived.

I stopped outside what had been Jeanas room. The last time Iad been in there, all of her possessions had been packed in boxes and suitcases and piled in the middle of the room. Eleanor could have arranged for them to be sent to California, but she might have overlooked this ch.o.r.e in her haste to empty the house.

I tried more than half the keys before I happened upon the right one. Inside the room was adequate light to determine that the boxes and suitcases were still there. Jean wouldnat have hidden the packet somewhere else in the sorority house, I thought as I sat down on the edge of the stripped bed and propped my chin with my hand. Even the ritual closet would be risky, since the sorority sisters went in and out of it on meeting nights. I recalled what I could of Jeanas possessions, trying to envision each as a receptacle for photographs featuring the dean of the law school in ignominious disarray. When enlightenment failed to strike, I turned on the light, sat down on the floor and opened the first box.