Mulch Ado About Nothing (11 page)

Jane brushed this off. "Any of them have alibis?"

“Some have good ones, a few have none. Butthat doesn't mean much. Lots of those sorts of executives work from home these days, at least part of the time, and since many of them are single or divorced, there's nobody to alibi them, and it doesn't make them guilty of anything."

“How is Julie doing, really?"

“She's coming around pretty well. Her brother-in-law says it's amazing that she was semiconscious for so long and there doesn't seem to be any permanent brain damage. She's pretty alert now."

“What has she to say about what happened to her?”

Just then the phone rang. "Want me to get it?" Mel asked. "It could be for me."

“Please, and if it's Mike, I want to talk to him.”

Mel picked up the phone and said, "VanDyne here." Then, "Yes, I am… yes, she's fine. She finished her dinner… Tofu? I don't think so.”

He came back shaking his head. "It was an Ursula asking if you'd finished the tofu. Who on earth is Ursula? And why would you eat tofu?”

“
I'll tell you about Ursula later. Go back to where we were. If Julie's so alert, what is she telling you about the perp and what happened?"

“Absolutely nothing. She can't remember anything beyond having steak on the grill with her sister and sister 's husband the night before she was attacked."

“But she will, though, sooner or later," Jane said.

Mel shook his head. "Her brother-in-law says in a serious accident, the immediate memory of it sometimes never comes back. He explained it's natural for the brain to file it away somewhere literally unreachable. A self-defense fear mechanism, if I understood him. Sort of a self-hypnotism for protection from the memory."

“Couldn't she be hypnotized for real when she recovers?”

Mel had sat back down and was idly tapping his fingers on her cast. "Only if she would agree to it. And it might be something she can't bear to remember, or perhaps she can't be hypnotized. Some people can't, you know. And anyway, she'll have a pretty long recovery time. She's got a touch of amnesia about other things as well. The neurologist thinks the nonthreatening memories will return pretty fast."

“I guess you've taken fingerprints from her office?”

Mel raised his eyebrows and said, "You doubted that? Of course we did. But most of her files seem to have been handled by other people somewhere along the line. Lots of prints, but none matching her sister or her brother-in-law except on innocuous personal letters. And even the letters were filed in the color-coded booklets."

“So you suspect her sister or brother-in-law?"

“It's routine to suspect family members, Jane. Most violent crimes are within the family."

“Do you still think either one of them could have done it?”

Mel shook his head. "The sister had time-stamped receipts from her shopping that matched the tags on the clothes she'd bought. Her husband had a parking ticket at a garage in Chicago that covered most of the time they say they were gone, allowing for the travel back and forth."

“Does that let them off the hook?"

“Not necessarily. The time of the attack is hard to guess, so in theory they could have roughed her up before they left her house. We have only their word that she was all right when they left.

Too bad the perp didn't break her watch in the attack, so we could tell when it happened. Unfortunately, that only happens in books."

“What about her files? Could you tell if anything was missing?"

“Two of the file drawers were gaping open. She might have left them that way while she was working. There isn't any huge gap and nothing's strewn around."

“Computer?"

“It's being gone over. There doesn't seem to be anything so far that indicates recent threats or personal conflicts."

“Is there something older in the files that does indicate conflicts?"

“Much older. Most of her files are letters outlining the plants she's been asked to analyze. All sorts of stuff about DNA and cell structure of the various parts of the plant, a full description, and pictures someone's provided are in each file as well. And the receipts for her work. A few people argued about her results, but fairly mildly."

“Does this have to do with disputed plant patents?" Jane said, remembering something Dr. Eastman had said in class.

“Only a very few. Most seem to be from people who intend to apply for a patent and want to double-check if their submission is too much like anything she's studied before. I'm told by an expert in the patent outfit that this happens often because getting the patent is so expensive that people often would rather pay an outside expert before submitting the patent information. Her sister said it's been a couple of years at least since she had to testify in court about a disputed patent. The rest of the time, she writes articles for botany texts and specialty magazines."

“Was there a file from Dr. Stewart Eastman?" "Who's that?"

“The guy with the pink marigolds he's patenting. Also the man who took over teaching the class when Julie couldn't do it."

“Doesn't ring a bell, but I'll check. Pink marigolds? Is that possible?"

“It seems so," Jane said. "He brought them to class to show off.”

Mel went to the phone and gave Eastman's name to someone in his office who had a list of Julie's files. Waited a long time, then said, "Thanks.”

While he was gone, Jane recovered the emery board and had a good, long, satisfying scratching session. She slipped it into the sofa cushions as he returned.

“No, Jane, no Eastman in the files. Why would you think he might be involved?"

“I don't really. It's just that he patents plants, and seemed to know Julie and her sister." "What class is this anyway?"

“It was supposed to be basic botany. Shelley and I signed up just hoping to learn what kind of plants might grow for us. It turned out that Eastman's interest is entirely in patenting plants, not the basics like we expected. It's sort of interestingin theory, but not something of practical value to anyone in the class."

“And is this where the strange Ursula comes into your life? Who in the world is she?" Mel asked.

Jane sighed. "Ursula is hard to describe. She's an aging hippy. All tie-dyed and madly liberal or maybe madly conservative. I haven't quite figured that out. And she thinks there are vast conspiracies everywhere."

“What does this have to do with tofu?" Mel asked, laughing.

“She says she was a nurse in Vietnam and has taken care of a lot of old ladies since she lost her nursing status. She admitted it was a drug charge, but denies that it was valid. Only herbal cures. And free-range eggs and health food.”

Mel had stopped laughing. "Oh, right. I better check her out."

“Can you do that?"

“I hope so. But why is she calling you?”

Jane smiled. "Because she's got me marked as helpless — like the old ladies. And she must not have an old lady currently to look after. You should have
seen
the food she brought over. Tofu was the least disgusting. Mel, I think she means well, but she sort of scares me."

“In what way?"

“I guess it's the conspiracy thing. She talks about it all the time. The government is trying to poison us with strawberries, the Denver airport is really owned by Queen Elizabeth, and the Ma- sons control the world, the postal service in particular. It's just all so bizarre and paranoid. And even the so-called facts she cites are entirely wrong, but she doesn't want to know that."

“Facts like what?" Mel asked.

“Are you really interested? Let me think. She had the Templars a century off and seemed to think the Dauphin had survived and was English and formed the Virginia Company, which, if my memory for history is right, was long before he was even born."

“You're making this up.”

Jane looked indignant. "I haven't the imagination to make up someone like Ursula. And if I could, I wouldn't."

“Who else is in this class? Is it a big group?"

“It might have been originally. It was scheduled in a large room," Jane said. "But the attack on Julie was in the local paper and maybe a lot of attendees assumed the class was canceled. You could ask Stefan Eckert about that."

“Who's he?"

“The junior college staff person who's in charge of community relations and set these summer classes up. Well, he may be only second in charge. That's what Miss Winstead said."

“And is this Stefan odd, too?"

“Not at all. I think he got the job because he is so cheerful and handsome, though Miss Winstead hinted that he's up to something.”

Mel got up and paced. "And Miss Winstead is…?"

“Another person in the class. Former librarian. And former cousin-in-law of the substitute teacher, Dr. Eastman. She hates him."

“Why does she go to the class then?"

“You'll have to ask her the whole story, if you really want to know." Jane stopped and thought a minute. "That's odd… She'd signed up for the class to hear Julie speak, but said she always went to Eastman's lectures to make him uncomfortable. How would she have known he'd fill in”

? "If she knows the Stefan guy, he might have told her," Mel guessed.

Jane looked relieved. "That must be it. I'd hate to suspect Miss Winstead of anything worse than wanting to make a man she doesn't like miserable.”

Mel was quiet for some time. Then he asked, "Do you really think anyone in the class is a suspect?”

Jane shrugged. "Probably not. I keep wavering. But since you have so many others to consider, I doubt it."

“Could you give me a list of the others in the group?" Mel pulled a notepad out of his jacket. "Stewart Eastman, Ursula Who?"

“Appledorn."

“And how do you spell the Stefan guy's name?"

“No idea," Jane replied. "But Miss Winstead is Martha. And she's a next-door neighbor of an obsessively tidy youngish man named Charles Jones. And there's an older man named Arnie Waring who used to be a firefighter. Shelley has everyone's addresses, since she made up the schedule for visiting the gardens."

“Anyone else?"

“Just Shelley and me. Are you going to investigate us?"

“I already have," Mel said with a straight face. Jane laughed, then realized he was serious. "Did you really?"

“It was a long time ago. That cleaning-lady business. When she was strangled in Shelley's guest room. I didn't even know you then, except that you were there when I arrived.”

And solved the case,
Jane thought, but didn't say.

“Oh, I forgot. Geneva Jackson has come along to the classes, too. She says her husband sent her away from the hospital because she was getting on everyone's nerves because she's such a chirpy visitor."

“Was she signed up?"

“I don't think so. She's just stuck here until her sister is well, and apparently needed to fill her time with something interesting. She's involved in the plant business as well. You don't seriously think anyone in the class is responsible, do you?"

“Probably not, but it's interesting and might be relevant down the line. Jane, I'm falling-down tired. I better go home and get some sleep before something else comes up. Do you need anything done before I go?"

“Just one thing. Tell me what you thought when you met me the first time.”

Mel grinned. "That you had terrific tits.”

He had to dodge some hurtled sofa pillows, a paperback book, and an emery board to escape.

S
helley came
over
a few
minutes later. "Any- thing you need help with?"

“Not a thing," Jane said, still laughing silently over Mel's abrupt departure as she limped back to the living room. She'd learned she could go a few steps without the crutches if she took it carefully and stayed on carpeted floors.

“I saw Mel leave in a hurry. Did he tell you anything new about Julie Jackson?" Shelley asked.

Jane started repeating what he'd said about the attack, but Shelley interrupted. "What about the flowers with the strange note?”

Jane slapped her forehead. "I completely forgot to ask."

“How could you forget, Jane? That seems to me to be a very important part of the case. It was a warning, and by saying 'You're next,' it suggested that an earlier crime had been committed."

“I hadn't really thought about it that way, but you're right," Jane said, easing herself back onto the sofa.

“I only realized it myself about an hour ago. You can't imagine how hard it was to wait for Mel to leave, so I wouldn't be butting in."

“I don't dare call him and ask now," Jane said. "Mel's working three cases and just went home to try to catch some rest. I can't believe I didn't realize the significance of the note before. Why is this foot injury going to my brain?"

“What else did he tell you?" Shelley asked, heading for the kitchen. "Want a soda?"

“No, thanks, but help yourself.”

When Shelley was settled in with a Diet Coke and handful of Wheat Thins, Jane reviewed the conversation with Mel. Unlike her guilt at telling Miss Winstead too much, she knew Mel was aware that she'd tell Shelley everything and they'd keep it to themselves. In fact, Shelley would be more reliably silent than Jane herself had been.

“So he does suspect one of the class members?" Shelley asked.

“Not exactly 'suspect.' I had the feeling it was just one more thing he felt he needed to check out to be thorough. Just in case."

“It sounds like he's got a full plate of suspects already," Shelley agreed. "But it
could
have some connection to someone we've met. Ursula is an obvious madwoman, and that Jones guy who looks like he gets his hair cut every three days seems more than a little bit strange. If Miss Winstead is telling the absolute truth about her cousin, Dr. Eastman isn't a very nice man either. Miss Winstead herself is frightening. Such anger."