Grime and Punishment: A Jane Jeffry Mystery (21 page)

“You tell me how somebody with the use of only one arm could strangle someone with a vacuum cleaner cord and I'll stay home."

“It's not what might happen to you there that worries me. It's the getting there!"

“Uncle Jim!"

“All right! Go!”

She sensed that he was watching her through the front window, so she made it a short visit. She was amused to have caught Mary Ellen, one of the neatest people she knew, with a newspaper and scraps of paper all over the coffee table. Probably cutting out coupons, Jane thought, and smiled a little. Who would have guessed a woman so glossy and professional would cut out grocery store coupons just like normal people?

“Jane, what's happening about that horrible murder?" she asked, scooping up the papers with her good hand as if embarrassed at being caught at such a mundane task.

“I don't know and I don't want to know," Jane said firmly. "It's none of my business. It's up to the police. I've got to get home," she said, suddenly depressed at how this thing had come to be the core of all her conversations. What did they all used to talk about?

Shelley came over and had lunch with them, and persuaded Jim to let Jane go to the grocery store with her. Jane came back and spent the afternoon cooking. Reluctantly, Jim agreed to let Jane pick up Todd's car pool, as long as she took Shelley along. Just as she was leaving, the red MG pulled up.

“I just got a call from your uncle to come talk to him. Why didn't you tell me Jim Spelling was your uncle?"

“You didn't ask and he isn't really. Why? Do you know him?"

“No, but I've heard of him. I'm really looking forward to hearing what he thinks of all this.”

She let him in the house and went to get Shelley. "He's looking forward to hearing what Uncle Jim has to say," she told her friend. "I don't like it. That means he needs help.”

Shelley was cranky. "I'm never going to get my children back. I hope my sister remembers to invite me to their graduations and weddings. I'd have them home now except for Paul. I'm concerned for their safety. He's fanatic about it.”

She was quiet the rest of the way. Jane crammed her grade-schoolers into the back seat and got them all dropped off without Shelley saying another word. When they finally got home, Todd scrambled out and the two women stayed in the car. The MG was gone.

Jane broke the silence. "We have to do something, don't we?"

“I thought you were cured of snooping.”

Jane lit her first cigarette of the afternoon and considered it. "I thought so too. But this isn't getting resolved. At least when we meddled something
happened,
even if it was awful."

“You promised your uncle you'd behave."

“I know I did. But now we know to be more careful."

“So, what'll we do?"

“I don't know. Let's think about it, and I'll come over later tonight."

“He'll let you out of the house?"

“I'll claim I have to borrow some personal, female thing that he'll be embarrassed to question. Of course, he'll probably stand at the door and watch me cross the driveways. Maybe hold my hand and walk me across.”

For the second night, the children stayed home to enjoy the rare treat of having Uncle Jim around. About eight o'clock, Jane made her escape. As she predicted, he did stand at the door and watch until she was safely inside Shelley's house.

“Where's Paul?" she whispered as she came in.

“Not to worry. He had to go back down to the office. One of the franchisees got flooded out this afternoon and he's wrangling with the insurance people. So, what have you come up with?”

“You first."

“I asked first."

“Well—" Jane sat down, elbows on the table and chin in hands. "This might sound sort of absurd, but my thinking is, nothing's happening. Obviously everybody's got some kind of secret, right? We've found out what a few of them are already, and we could go on nosing around forever and all we'd find out is more secrets—
not
who's willing to kill somebody to keep them. Right?"

“Right. Go on." Shelley was sitting across from her in a mirror-image attitude. She'd been nodding the whole time Jane talked.

“So, if we go on, we might just make everybody mad without solving anything. And it's possible — probable — that we've already questioned the person responsible, and it would be a waste of time too. Shelley, I don't think this is a confirmed murderer, somebody with a mad bloodlust. It could be a once-in-a-lifetime thing. So, the way I see it, there's one logical way to find out who tried to kill Edith and accidentally killed the other woman.”

Shelley nodded again. "To give her another shot at it…"

“Exactly. All we have to do is recreate the same circumstances. That's what you came up with too, wasn't it?"

“Yes. But there are two big problems. First, Edith isn't working this week. There's no way we'd get her to cooperate with this. Don't forget, she's as much a criminal in her own way as thekiller. She's hardly going to willingly become bait for her own blackmail victim."

“Yes, but if you insist — Shelley, you can do it. You're the best 'insister' I know.”

Shelley shook her head emphatically. "That gets us to the second problem. I have a strong premonition that the police aren't going to welcome this solution. It just doesn't seem the tried and true method."

“But, Shelley, I've got that figured out too. This is the sneaky part you're going to love. We don't tell them!”

Shelley sat back, shaking her head. "No way. We can't stage this whole thing by ourselves. For one thing, I just want the criminal caught: I don't want to do the catching myself."

“No, wait! I didn't mean we
never
tell the police. I just meant we set it all up and
then
tell them."

“Hmmm — not bad. So we get the story out that the house is going to be empty with only Edith here, then we suggest to the cops that they take it from there? They can't tell me I
can't
tell people anything I want, can they? And once it's already set up, they might use the opportunity, no matter how irregular they think it is."

“Sure. We've got nothing to lose."

“Jane, we have
everything
to lose. But I want the killer arrested so I can have my family back. All right. How do we get everybody here?"

“I've got some ideas on that…”

Within fifteen minutes they had a story worked out. "Who do we try it on first?"

“How about Mary Ellen Revere? She's not mad at us yet."

“Good enough. She's smart. If we can fool her, we can fool anybody.”

Shelley picked up the phone, dialed, and said, "Mary Ellen? Shelley. With all the horrible stuff that happened last week, I lost sight of the fact that we're supposed to turn in a report on the committee's work on that playground project. I'm afraid we really do need to have a meeting as soon as possible— That's nice of you, but I can have it here — I'd like to try again for this Thursday night, that's the best night for me — Yes, potluck again, just bring the same thing I assigned last week. That's less confusing — Good. Now, there's one little difficulty, and I'm a little embarrassed to tell you. It's really a bit ghoulish—”

She looked over at Jane and crossed her fingers as she went on. "Jane and I promised to take her aunt in Evanston to the doctor that day, so neither of us will be around— No, it takes both of us. The poor old dear is in a wheelchair— Yes, in Evanston. You haven't ever heard Jane mention her? That's funny, it seems to me that she talks about her all the time—”

She listened for a minute, looked uncomfortable, and said, "I guess I don't either sometimes. Now, the house will be open, of course. It's Edith's day. What? — She's not? Well, she'd better come here on Thursday. I paid in advance for the first month, and the Happy Helper people are going to give me what I paid for or I'll know the reason why!”

Jane nervously paced around the kitchen while Shelley finished up the call. When Shelley hung up, she pounced. "It worked!"

“She was pissed that I was going to have Edith, come hell or high water, when she couldn't get her this week, but I think I convinced her I could do it."

“What was that other stuff? About me and my fictional aunt in Evanston?”

Shelley laughed. "She said she probably hadn't been paying attention when you mentioned her, and went on to say that she often tuned you out because you talk so much."

“And I thought she was hanging on my every word," Jane said, smiling. "All right. Who's next?"

“Why don't I go down the list and call you when I'm done? You better go home before he sends the National Guard to fetch you."

“Right. Shelley, this is going to work, isn't it?"

“It better, or we're going to both have to move to Alaska to escape our neighbors and the wrath of the police.”

The phone rang at 10:10.

“I'll get it upstairs," Jane said, sprinting up the steps, leaving Uncle Jim and the kids looking at her like she'd gone around the bend.

“Sorry it took me so long. I couldn't get Suzie until a few minutes ago," Shelley began.

“So, did they all buy it?"

“All but Suzie. She just laughed and said, 'Ah-hah! A trap!' and when I said I had no idea what she meant, she said, 'I didn't come to town on a turnip truck, but I'll play along anyway.' But she wasn't the worst."

“Robbie?"

“You betcha. I think she believed it, but she didn't like it. She would have hung up, but I talked so fast she didn't have a chance. I apologized up a storm and said we'd just gone temporarily insane from the stress and we'd never do a thing like that again."

“Did she forgive us?"

“Not so's you'd notice."

“She agreed to come?"

“Only out of duty. She said she'd made a moral commitment to the playground, otherwise she'd never set foot in my home again. In the end, she paraphrased Nixon. She said when the committee work was done, we wouldn't have Robbie to kick around any more."

“What does that mean?"

“I have no idea, Jane, but it made me feel like shit."

“What about our friend Lucrezia Greenway?"

“Huh? Oh, Joyce. You're speaking figuratively again. No wonder Mary Ellen doesn't listen to you half the time. Say — poison! What an awful idea. What if one of them brings poisoned food?"

“Now whose imagination is running away with them?" She heard someone coming up the stairs and lowered her voice. "What about Joyce?"

“She agreed to come, and even to bring food, but I had to lie and say you couldn't attend the meeting. Dorothy Wallenberg must have been busy with something else, 'cause she didn't even question the idea. She just said, 'Yes, yes, all right. Let me write it on my calendar. Goodbye.' "

“Who's left? Oh, Laura Stapler. I'll bet she was crazy about it."

“Nearly wet her pants. I could tell over the phone. It was a tough fight, and I nearly bought a security system before it was over. She eventually agreed to come, but said she'd probably have her husband bring her dish for her."

“So we've got it all set up. Now all we have to do is tell the police.”

There was a long silence on the other end. "Shelley?"

“Yeah. Who's going to do that? I've already called the committee. And I'm the one who has to arrange to get Edith here. I think it's your turn."

“Shelley, I'll never ask you to give me another permanent."

“Not good enough."

“I'll drive all your car pools the week before Christmas when the kids are berserk.”

“Getting closer."

“I'll give you all my grocery store coupons.”

“They're probably outdated."

“Oh, all right." She took a deep breath and said, miserably, "I'll take your place as fifth-grade room-mother."

“All of the above."

“Yes."

“It's a deal. I'll call in and report what we've set up first thing in the morning. No point in ruining the whole night for our poor Detective VanDyne. I'll call you when I've talked to him."

“There won't be any need. The shock waves will probably flatten my house.”

venty-two
She
was right.

All went well enough through the morning rush. Shelley called to say she'd talked to the Happy Helper people and they'd promised to deliver Edith the next day. Jane started to ask her how she'd managed it, but refrained. Shelley's methods were sometimes better left unexamined. It was enough that she'd accomplished her goal. By the time everyone was off to school and the animals fed, Jane started getting nervous. Uncle Jim was going to work today, and was downing the last of his French toast when the phone rang. A vaguely familiar and frigidly cold voice asked for him, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Detective VanDyne in a very poor frame of mind.

Jane silently handed Jim the phone and suddenly remembered something urgent she had to do in the backyard. She wished she had some pressing errand in a foreign country, but the backyard would have to do.

She was pretending to weed under the fir tree when Uncle Jim came out. His tie was askew, his scowl as fierce as any she'd ever seen. Hismovements were deliberate. He picked up a patio chair and banged the front legs on the cement to dislodge some loose leaves. It looked like he was trying to destroy it. He sat down, leaned back, pointed a finger at her, and then jabbed it toward another chair.

“Sit!"

“Detective Van Dyne is a tattletale," she said, perching on the edge of the chair he'd indicated.

“A grown woman," he said, shaking his head sadly. "The mother of three fine, fatherless children."

“If it weren't me involved, you'd think this was really quite a good idea. I'm sure if you'd just consider it dispassionately—”

The last word was hardly out of her mouth before he leaned forward so quickly she thought he was jumping at her throat. "Jane, this is the goddamnedest, stupidest, most dangerous idea I've ever heard from a pair of pea-brained females…”