Shakespeare's Landlord Part 18

"We went all over the parking stalls, trying to find one that could have been used for the body. No luck there. I saw you looking that day, and I wondered what you were up to."

"Saw me from where?"

"Pardon's apartment. I'd been sitting in it some days and every night, watching people go in and out and do their curious things, and trying to get some idea of where to take this."

I was definitely feeling dimmer.

"We'd searched the garbage the day Pardon's body was found."

I smiled to myself.

"We'd looked in every apartment. We'd kept a watch on the movements of everyone for a day or two, then only on Norvel and the Yorks."

"Not a close enough watch on Norvel."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Lily, he goes out walking, we don't know he's got a ski mask stuffed in his pocket. He must have stuck the broom handle by the fence earlier in the day. I never saw him with it."

"But that was how you were able to get there so fast. You were awake. Did you pull your shirt off on purpose?"

"Yeah," he confessed, looking embarra.s.sed. "I thought it would look more like I'd been awakened by you yelling."

"So, you were watching the Yorks and Norvel."

"I'd caught Deedra's reference to the camper, too. She might have gotten confused. She pulls in and out of the parking lot every day. But she sounded sure. I couldn't grill her without even her getting the drift, but the more I thought about it, the more possible I thought the Yorks' presence was. I called the Creek County courthouse. Harley Don Murrell's trial was over in time for the Yorks to have driven home. I checked with their daughter over there, real casually, and she said they'd left at one, right after lunch, too upset to stay any longer. Alvah and T. L. had said they'd stopped at the Hillside flea market and walked around a little to stretch their legs, but if that wasn't true, they could have gotten here before three."

"They did. Alvah had watered the plant in the kitchen. It was wet when I went to water it at three," I said. "Her bedroom blinds were open. Those were the things she did when she first came home. And her living room curtains were down. I didn't notice that day, but I did notice on Wednesday. I thought Alvah had started spring cleaning, but T. L. wrapped the body in them." That, I had figured out all by myself.

Claude stretched his long arms above his head and lapsed back into his former position. "Alvah told me today that when they got back to Shakespeare, she went in the apartment with her suitcase and left T. L. unloading the rest of the stuff. She watered the plant and opened the blinds." He tipped an imaginary hat to me.

"Outside, she could hear voices. Their door was open, and so was Pardon's; T. L. had stopped by to pay the rent. Pardon had found out about the trial and the verdict from his friend in Creek County, but instead of consoling the Yorks over the difficulty of living through a trial like that, Pardon chose to quote what Murrell's wife had said about the Yorks' granddaughter. And after the worst day of his life, T. L. just couldn't take it. T. L. and Pardon exchanged words, and he hit Pardon in the mouth. Pardon jumped back and b.u.mped into the couch. It was like running from a hostile dog. T. L. went after him. He was going to hit Pardon in the jaw, but Pardon turned and slipped, and he hit Pardon in the neck with his fist, as hard as he could. It crushed Pardon's throat."

"And they put him in the camper," I said.

"Yep. T. L. ran into his apartment, past Alvah, ripped down the curtains without asking her, and ran back in to Pardon's place. Alvah followed. They loaded Pardon into the camper, wrapped in the curtains-his keys fell out then-and they drove around with him for a little while. They were completely panicked. They couldn't decide what to do. The Yorks had never broken the law in their lives. They were going to dump him by a back road, to make it seem he hadn't been killed by an apartment resident. But they realized they could establish an alibi, since no one had seen them return, if Pardon's body was found closer to the apartments to make that alibi valid.

"While they were driving around with Pardon's body, Tom went to Pardon's apartment to pay his rent. Door unlocked, no Pardon. Then the Yorks returned, pulled right up to the back door, opened the camper door, stowed Pardon back in his apartment."

"How come they didn't hear Deedra knock on his door?" I asked.

"Alvah got nauseated," Claude said, looking down at his hands. "She had to run in her place to the toilet and T.L. went with her. While Alvah was being sick, Deedra left for work. They never knew she'd seen the camper-lucky for Deedra. When Alvah was better, they drove away again. They didn't think about disposing of the curtains he'd been wrapped in. They didn't think about the threads from his torn pocket getting left in the camper. They didn't think about people trying to pay their rent, not finding Pardon in his place. And they couldn't lock the door to Pardon's apartment because they had to get back in, and they couldn't find Pardon's keys.

"They evidently drove around in a daze, and just came home when they'd originally intended to, between seven and eight at night. They put the rest of their gear into their place. They'd been talking, of course, and they'd decided Pardon had to be found somewhere close to his apartment, some place he could've walked, but also some place he could have chanced across a mugger. The arboretum was the logical place, maybe the only sane choice the Yorks made. T. L. remembered your garbage-can cart. He'd seen it sitting by the curb on garbage days and always kind of coveted it. ... So he waited, thinking no one in Shakespeare would be up that late. And he was nearly right."

"When did you decide it wasn't Norvel?"

"When I saw T. L. come out of the camper at you." He smiled at me, making fun of himself. "I'd thought maybe Norvel had just used the camper to stow Pardon's body and that the Yorks were so afraid of looking guilty that they were covering that up. I didn't want it to be the Yorks."

"I knew it was the Yorks," I said calmly. "Because of the curtains."

"You figured it out that way?"

"If Alvah's curtains were missing, there had to be a reason. And only T. L. would grab curtains down from their hooks. If Alvah had known what he was doing, she would have run and gotten a sheet or tablecloth that I wouldn't've missed. But I missed the curtains," I said drowsily, "and I knew someone had watered the plant."

"Why . . . Lily, why did you go to the camper?"

"I wanted to see what was in it," I said, and let my eyes close.

"Oh, yeah," I said thickly, hauling my lids up again. "How come you didn't know T. L. was in there?"

"I did," he said, trying not to sound angry with me. "I was waiting for him to come out with some evidence. He couldn't destroy it in the camper; he would've had to take it into the apartment. I couldn't get a warrant to search the camper. I didn't have enough evidence."

" 'Kay. My mind's at rest."

"One more thing."

"Mmm?"

"What about the handcuffs on the Drinkwaters' steps, Lily? What about the dead rat?"

"Oh, that was Thea. I was pretty sure as soon as Marshall told me what her secret life was like. And I knew for sure after I realized you'd threatened everyone who worked for you with death if they talked about what happened to me. But Tom David had already told his honey bunch. He didn't let her tell anyone else. But she knew, and she wanted to torment me. Once I figured that out, I didn't worry about it anymore. I can handle ole Thea."

I rolled an eye at Claude.

"Secret life?" he said hopefully. "Thea Sedaka has a secret life?"

"Maybe tell you sometime," I said.

"I hear Marshall's coming back tomorrow, Lily," Claude said when I was almost drifting off. "What are you going to do?"

"Go to sleep," I mumbled, and did.

Also by Charlaine Harris

Last Scene Alive

Club Dead

Living Dead in Dallas

Shakespeare's Counselor

Dead Until Dark

Shakespeare's Trollop

A Fool and His Honey

Shakespeare's Christmas

Shakespeare's Champion

Dead Over Heels

Shakespeare's Landlord

The Julius House

Three Bedrooms, One Corpse

A Bone to Pick

Real Murders

A Secret Rage

Sweet and Deadly