Pennsylvania-Dutch - Too Many Crooks Spoil The Broth Part 20

"Even at the cost of your own flesh and blood?" Billy Dee responded by plunging the knife into my kitchen table. The blade seemed to penetrate about an inch into the hard, aged wood. For a split second I considered bolting for the door, but in that split second Billy Dee pulled the blade out again. It gleamed, just as wicked and sharp-looking as ever.

"Any more questions, Miss Yoder?"

I swallowed the cantaloupe in my throat. My prognosis did not look very good. If I was going to check out, I might as well go with all my questions answered. "Yes, actually, I do have another question. What did Miss Brown have to do with all this? Why did you kill her? You did kill her, didn't you, Billy Dee?"

A big smile crept across his face, the kind of smile that signals smug satisfaction. "Ah, Miss Brown. Yeah, I killed Miss Brown, or whatever her name was. Only it sure as h.e.l.l wasn't Brown. That b.i.t.c.h was a Fed."

"What is a Fed?" Look, there isn't any point in worrying about appearing stupid when you are about to die.

Billy Dee's smile softened and appeared almost benevolent. Perhaps the man had a knack for teaching, particularly slow learners. "A Fed is a Federal Drug Enforcement Officer. Miss Brown, or whoever the h.e.l.l she was, was one busy woman. She had a line on my buddy's connections back in Morocco. One of them was an American who liked to ship stuff back home." His smile slipped into a laugh. "It's a small world, ain't it, Miss Yoder?"

"I don't know. I've seen too little of it to tell."

"Then that's a shame," said Billy, and it sounded like he really meant it. "But take my word for it, it's a real small world. Real small. Turns out Miss Brown, or whoever, also had a line on the Congressman. And guess what? Them two lines was tangled. Seems that good old Garrett was buying from my Moroccan supplier on a regular basis. Not too dumb a move on his part, either, because them South American sources are too closely watched these days.

"Anyway, this woman comes here to see if she can catch the Congressman with his fingers in the sugar bowl, before he can check into that clinic uh "

"Grossinger-Beechman.

"Yeah, that's the place. Y'see, if she coulda done that, she'da had leverage. Might have been able to pull in a whole handful of lines; most of them with one end tied to Morocco."

"And one of them yours?"

He looked surprised, and then amused. "h.e.l.l, no! I don't do drugs."

"You just buy deadly poison?"

"Yeah, you might say that. Real deadly poison. The best. Anyway, I wasn't afraid that Miss Brown would arrest me it'd take a lot more than her to put me in the slammer again. What I didn't want, though, was her ruining it all by reeling in the Congressman before I had a chance to pin Linda's death on him. So, I took me a vote and decided that Miss Brown would take a nice trip down them stairs, after she had a taste of gouza."

"I'm sure you'd make a good cruise director, but I'm also sure Miss Brown didn't swallow your gouza willingly."

He laughed surprisingly loud. Surely someone had heard him. "She was a feisty little woman, for her age, I'll give her that. Course, I set me up a diversion, just in case there was any noise, by putting that spider on Linda's bed. Anybody who knew Linda, knew how she felt about bugs, specially spiders. And finding one here was a piece of cake. Face it, Miss Yoder, you ain't much of a housekeeper."

Even while sitting in the lap of death, I felt my face sting at such an accusation. It was Susannas room!

His eyes twinkled cruelly. "This one I found in the dining room, on one of them corncobs you got there. ' Stuck him in that jar you let me have for them night crawlers. Honestly, Miss Yoder, I don't mean no disrespect, but a farm woman like you oughta know don't n.o.body go fishing in November with worms."

"But Papa..." Then I remembered that February was the off-season month Papa fished in, only it was ice-fishing, and he used smoked bacon for bait.

"Yes siree Bob! This here spider was a nice, plump little critter. And I wouldn't have had no place to keep him if it hadn't been for that jar you so kindly gave me."

"That jar! I uh I saw it in Miss Brown's room."

"Did you now? Well, it ain't there no more. Didn't get me a chance to go back that night to get it. Woulda been too noisy with that room sealed up like it is. But I finally got it. Of course I shoulda figured a snoop like you, with all the time in the world, would beat me in there."

"I am not a snoop," I said. If I was going to die, I at least wanted to set the record straight.

"And I suppose you figured out it was me who broke into the old bag's trunk?"

"Not soon enough, I'm afraid."

"Of course there weren't nothing in there to worry about. What a waste of time and energy. No papers or nothing mentioning me or the Congressman. 'Tweren't nothing at all in there, as you know."

"Except for a sunflower seed. You should be ashamed of yourself for trying to pin everything on a nice young kid like Joel."

Billy Dee shrugged. "Somebody's gotta take the rap, and it sure as h.e.l.l ain't gonna be me. But how did you know it wasn't Teitlebaum who opened the trunk?"

"You left your calling card at the scene of the crime. Tobacco kills, you know."

"So do knives," said Billy Dee softly. It took only a glance at the knife to drive the point home.

I tried to think of a stalling device. "I could fix you a cup of coffee, if you want. And a bacon and tomato sandwich. It won't take any time at all."

Billy Dee pulled a vial of pale emerald-colored liquid out of his shirt pocket. "Speaking of time, Miss Yoder. Just a few drops of this stuff on the tongue, and you're a goner. Of course, Miss Brown didn't open her mouth voluntarily, but it weren't really no harder than giving a cat or dog a pill. You ever done that, Miss Yoder? Given an animal a pill?"

"Some cats scratch pretty bad," I said. "They also make a lot of noise when they die. Why don't you just take off, Billy Dee? You got what you came for. Why don't you just cut the phone cords, let all the air out of our tires, and take off? It's six miles into town, and you could be halfway to Maryland before I got that far."

In response, Billy Dee began sc.r.a.ping at the stubble on his cheeks with the knife. The blade was obviously razor sharp; little bits of whisker fell like pepper from a mill.

I could think of nothing further to say. "Well, now, Miss Yoder," said Billy Dee, filling in the silence, "we've done far too much talking tonight. It's time for a little action, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you mean," I struggled to say. "Sure, you do. You're a fine-looking woman. A whole lot prettier than that Miss Brown. It's time you and me had a little fun before we have to say good-bye."

I knew that if I didn't sit down then, I would probably faint. I tried to speak, but what come out wasn't words.

"What was that?"

"Please, Billy, may I sit down?" I managed to say.

"Sit." He kicked a chair under me and slowly moved the knife back up to my throat. With his free hand, he began to stroke my hair. "When you catch your breath, Miss Yoder, you and me are going for a little walk."

I tried to catch my breath, but it seemed like I had rocks in my lungs. "Where are we going, Billy?"

His hand left my hair and slid to my face. "I seen you looking at me when we was in the barn, Miss Yoder. It was you put the idea in my head. That's a mighty fine barn, Miss Yoder, so I figure you and me are going to put it to good use."

"But Mose will be there," I said. "One of the cows is ill, and he likes to stay the night when that happens." It was of course a lie, but one of which even Mama would have been proud.

"I ain't afraid of no old man," said Billy. He sounded almost happy at the thought of a confrontation with Mose. "Now, it's about time we head on out for there. I got me a lot to do yet before the night is over."

"I can't move with this knife at my throat," I said.

He pulled the knife back a few inches to allow me room to stand. "Now, get up."

"Billy, please," I begged. "You can tie me up here if you want to. Gag me, even. And then take off. I won't cause any trouble until morning."

I thought I heard Billy Dee grunt in anger then. I closed my eyes and waited for the slicing edge of the knife, or at the least to feel the onslaught of his fists. I would rather have died with Mama and Papa in the tunnel, but if this was how I had to go, I prayed he would do it quickly.

But no pain was forthcoming. Instead, the knife seemed to drop into my lap, and then slid harmlessly to the floor. I heard the ping of its blade as it struck the linoleum. As for Billy Dee, by the sound of it, he too had hit the floor, just seconds after the knife.

I kept my eyes closed, afraid that if I opened them the horror would somehow return.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, not Billy's, that much I knew. "Magdalena?"

I forced my eyes open and could hardly believe what I saw. "Doc!" I screamed.

The hand on my shoulder patted me gently.

"There, there, Magdalena, it's all right now. The son, of a b.i.t.c.h is out like a prizefighter. Of course I gave: him twice the dose I gave Susannah."

"What?"

Old Doc waved the syringe proudly. "I'm just glad the b.a.s.t.a.r.d didn't hear me sneaking in and turn around. Anyway, what's good for the goose is good for the gander, like they say. When you hung up on me, I knew something was terribly wrong. Would have gotten here even sooner, but I had to wait two minutes until it was time for my d.a.m.n cake to come out of the oven. Of course I didn't get a chance to frost it."

"What?"

Doc smiled magnanimously. "No big deal. It'll be nice and cool by the time I get back. Best time to frost it anyway. Shall I make it chocolate or vanilla? Which do you prefer?"

"Caramel," I said, just to be difficult.

24.

By tacit agreement, we waited until our second piece of cake before we brought up the previous night's events and the circ.u.mstances leading up to them. The first piece of cake, both Doc and I understood instinctively, was to be savored. One can't pay proper attention to aroma, texture, and taste when one is talking.

Having swallowed my first bite of the second piece, I felt free to fill Doc in on some of the missing pieces of the story.

"It was the quilt," I said. "That was the main thing. It kept bothering me in the back of my mind, but I was just too stupid to see it. I should have known right away, of course, when I saw Linda clutching Mama's dresden plate quilt."

It is permissible to talk with cake in your mouth, if you're on your second piece, so Doc did. "What's so d.a.m.n special about that quilt? As I recall, you keep quilts in all the rooms."

"But that's it exactly! Every room has a quilt in it, but it's a particular quilt. Each room has a quilt with a different pattern on it. The quilt, the dresden plate quilt that Mama made, belongs in Billy Dee's room, not Linda's! "So you see, when I saw it in Linda's room, I knew something was out of place, but it just didn't register."

"Couldn't Mr. Grizzle simply have loaned it to Linda?"

I shoved in a bite of Doc's incredibly moist cake. "As a matter of fact, that's exactly what happened. Linda had mentioned to Billy Dee that she was feeling chilly, and so he offered to bring her a cup of herbal tea and an extra quilt. Of course, that was the perfect opportunity for Billy Dee to administer the poison.

"As soon as the poison started to take effect, Billy Dee grabbed the teacup and extra quilt and got out of there."

"I see," said Doc, "except that Mr. Grizzle, being your average, insensitive man, grabbed the wrong quilt."

Well, they do look sort of alike," I surprised myself by saying in Billy Dee's defense. "Linda's original quilt was also a dresden plate pattern, but it wasn't the one Mama made." I swallowed hard and let the truth out. "Mama's quilt isn't nearly so nice." Sorry, Mama, about that extra spin.

"More coffee, Magdalena?"

I nodded. "The weird part is, Doc, that Billy Dee seemed like such a nice man. He was always so polite to me, of course until last night."

"Never fully trust anyone, Magdalena," said old Doc sagely. "Want some more cake'?"

I shook my head. "But Lydia, that was even more of a surprise."

"Do tell," Doc urged. "Melvin was rather cryptic when I called him this morning. Seems he's not happy about having to share credit with you."

"Ah, forget Melvin. He's going out with Susannah tonight anyway. That's payback enough.

"But back to Lydia. She too made a complete confession last night. I hate to say it, but Billy Dee was right on the money. Well, sort of. It was she who took the potshots at me. She'd stayed home that morning while Delbert attempted to take Garrett to the clinic. Apparently the Reams had had a fight that morning, because Garrett refused to clear some things up before his admission. Garrett, I mean the Congressman, changed his mind on the way there, but that's another story.

"Anyway, when Lydia saw me set out for Freni's across the field, she a.s.sumed it was Jeanette, possibly even meeting Garrett on a secret rendezvous. When she figured out it was me in the woods, she backed off. It was on her way back to the house, out by the barn, that she walked through some fool's parsley, and the idea of poisoning Jeanette popped into her head.

"Although Lydia's main objective was to get even with Jeanette, and to clear her out of the way for her husband's presidential bid, she was not particularly reluctant to poison poor Linda as well. After all, Linda was concrete proof of her husband's infidelity. Lydia, of course, knew that her husband wouldn't eat that dreadful curry. He hates garlic, and she put four whole cloves in it."

Doc hadn't gotten a chance to appreciate any of Lydia's finer qualities. "Yeah," he said, "but she sure as h.e.l.l didn't care if she poisoned the rest of you. That woman deserves to fry until she's a nice golden brown."

I chuckled, perhaps inappropriately. "Whatever her ultimate punishment is, Doc, she's suffering plenty in the meantime. Worst case of flea bites I've ever seen. It was like those fleas were just waiting for a nice, cultured English woman to come along and be their dinner."

Doc smiled with satisfaction. "What about the Congressman's aide, Mr. James, isn't it? At dinner the other night you intimated that he and Mrs. Ream might be sweet on each other."

I held out my cup for more coffee. "So I was wrong, Doc. That was all an act, at least on her part, to exercise control over him. Delbert, on the other hand, might well have a thing for Lydia. Melvin thinks it might have been Delbert shooting at Jeanette that first day out in the woods. He does, after all, carry a revolver to protect the Congressman."

Doc put down the coffeepot. "Or, it simply might have been the Congressman who shot at Jeanette, using his aide's revolver. Unfortunately, we'll probably never know the whole truth. Both of those men are as slippery as three-day-old meat."

I was glad it was just cake we were eating and not a main meal. "At any rate, Doc, I think it's possible that Delbert does carry a torch for Lydia. He was pretty broken up when Melvin arrested her. Anyway, he seemed much too eager to come across as gay, if you ask me."

"Like he was sending up a smoke screen?"

"Exactly. But Lydia actually despises the man. Seems she blames him for keeping her husband supplied with drugs, and for keeping the secret of his affair with Jeanette for so long. By her own admission, she would have been happy to have him chow down on her vegetable curry as well, but she forgot that he's allergic to garlic and therefore wouldn't touch the stuff, even though he likes the taste.

"Unfortunately, poor Joel, who isn't even on her hate list, had to suffer. But he's doing all right now in the hospital. Jeanette's still in critical condition, but I'm pretty sure she'll pull through. After all, only the good die young."

"Which means you were safe all along," Doc teased; I felt a goose walk over my grave.

"Maybe. But you know, I would have eaten Lydia's vegetable curry if I had been there."

Suddenly I felt angry, both at Lydia, who had violated my trust, and at Freni, whose fragile ego had given rise to the whole situation to begin with.

"One thing's for certain, Doc, I'm never letting any guests in my kitchen ever again. Not even if I have to cook every meal myself."

"Good idea," Doc agreed. "There should never be more than one cook at a time in a kitchen. Two maybe, at the very most. Like they say, too many cooks spoil the broth."

"Make that crooks, Doc."

We both laughed, and I poured some more coffee. "Say, Doc, I might just be going on a date this weekend," I said shyly.

Doc beamed. "I haven't asked you yet, but sure thing, kid."