The Grub-and-Stakers Spin a Yarn (4 page)

“Up on the Enchanted Mountain watching the acorns drop, I expect. Don’t try to evade the issue, Osbert. Arethusa even dedicated a book to you.”

“Sure she did. ‘To my renegade nephew, Osbert Reginald Monk, in the no doubt vain hope of reforming his literary tastes.’ What’s my son going to think of me as a role model when he reads that? Furthermore, I’d like to know what makes Aunt Arethusa think she’s such an authority on taste. Hers is all in her mouth, which is generally full of our food. We may not have been able to reshape her taste, but we’ve sure as heck done plenty to reshape Aunt Arethusa.”

“Yes, dear,” said Dittany. “Shall we ring the bell or just walk in?”

Actually they did neither. By the time they got to the police station, Mrs. MacVicar was waiting for them at the open door. “Ah, there you are, Deputy Monk. Sergeant MacVicar was hoping you’d show up. Go straight into the office. Dittany, do you want to go with him or would you rather sit in the living room? I have some lovely photos of our grandson. He has a tooth.”

“How nice! Perhaps he’ll get another soon, then he can bite. But I do want to hear about the excitement over at Miss Jane Fuzzywuzzy’s. I don’t suppose it was half so wild as Mother’s and Arethusa’s descriptions.”

“Perhaps not,” Mrs. MacVicar conceded, “but it was wild enough, I can tell you! I wouldn’t have believed such a thing could happen right here on Main Street myself; but there they were, two hoodlums in trench coats looking like something out of a George Raft movie, lugging that dead man off like a sack of meal. And there really were bullet holes in both cars. I saw them plainly enough with my own two eyes.”

That settled the matter. Margaret MacVicar could no more take a liberty with the truth than she could have shown up at the Presbyterian Church on a Sunday morning in her bathing suit. The two women exchanged nods and followed Deputy Monk into the left front room that, with a large storage closet for the files and spare handcuffs, comprised the Lobelia Falls police station.

The interview didn’t really tell the Monks a great deal. To their surprise, either the MacVicars’ own or Miss Jane’s testimony corroborated in virtually every detail what they’d already heard from Arethusa and Clorinda. Arethusa had in fact said ‘A jeweled dagger and a ream of plain white paper’ to the man who’d accosted her over the body of his fallen comrade or adversary, as the case might have been. Sergeant MacVicar divulged the fact that Miss Jane had been confident of Arethusa’s exact words because Arethusa had already spoken them twice before apropos of nothing that made any sense to Miss Jane, and had called her Miss Wuzzy into the bargain.

Sergeant MacVicar himself had heard Arethusa deliver her enigmatic utterance yet again and had received an explanation which struck him as a sensible enough one by her standards. According to information received from Mr. Gumpert, she had subsequently entered Ye Village Stationer and purchased a ream of plain white paper. Dittany’s assurance that Arethusa had actually carried the paper home and was perhaps even now at work on the jeweled dagger wrapped up that piece of the puzzle to everyone’s satisfaction.

Pleased with the progress thus far, Sergeant MacVicar confided that Miss Jane had seemed more annoyed by the bloodstains on her clean floor than she had been over the sinister actions of the trench-coated interlopers. He and Osbert both found this attitude hard to credit and wondered whether Miss Jane might bear a spot of investigation. Dittany and Mrs. MacVicar insisted it was perfectly reasonable and men just didn’t understand women.

They also saw no cause for suspicion in Miss Jane’s having taken umbrage because the first man had grabbed Arethusa and not her. “I’d be slightly ticked off, myself, if I’d gone to the trouble of looking like a sheep in order to advertise the fact that I sold wool and he didn’t even bother to notice,” was Dittany’s reaction.

“And I might be a trifle miffed, too, if I were a woman not well-endowed with that comeliness of face and form which is alleged to attract members of the opposite gender and got passed over for a smasher like Arethusa,” said Mrs. MacVicar, “particularly if I was also the one who was stuck with having to re-scrub her floor. Don’t you two bloodhounds go pestering that poor woman any more today. Miss Jane’s had a ghastly morning so far, and I shouldn’t be surprised if things got worse as the day rolls on. Just look out the window.”

A steady stream of people who might or might not be customers were going into the yarn shop, having to push their way through a crowd on the sidewalk pointing with ghoulish enthusiasm to various by now dark and trodden spatters on the pavement Miss Jane had tried so hard to keep clean. “I must say I wish our telephone system always worked as well as the local grapevine,” Mrs. MacVicar added with no little acerbity.

“Aye,” said Sergeant Mac Vicar. “The fiery cross has blazed across the back fences and the clans are gathering. Hoots toots, there’s a new face in town. Who’s yon dapper fellow with the natty umbrella?”

Well might the sergeant ask. From the well-polished uppers of his custom-made black shoes to the rolled brim on his square-set gray homburg, the middle-aged, good-looking, rather slightly built man walking toward them was a vision of sartorial elegance in the Savile Row manner. Not even Osbert’s agent from Toronto, who visited Lobelia Falls fairly often now that he was in love with Arethusa, ever managed to look that urbane.

“Maybe he’s from Scottsbeck,” was the best Osbert could offer.

“He looks awfully respectable for Scottsbeck,” Dittany demurred. “Oh! Mum said the biggest reason Miss Jane was so upset about the bloodstains was that she’s expecting her cousins from England and she was trying to get everything nice for them. I’ll bet that’s one of the cousins. The other must have stopped at the inn to get them registered or—what’s so strange about his legs?”

As far as any of them could see, there really wasn’t anything strange about his legs. It was just that, as he drew closer and they could get a better look, he appeared to have more than the usual number. As he veered toward the curb, the onlookers noted an extra arm holding a duplicate umbrella, a second head wearing a second homburg. Altogether, they saw clearly as the figure turned to cross the street, there were two of him: one coming and one, as it were, going.

“Larruping locoweeds!” cried Osbert. “He’s a them!”

“How fascinating,” said Dittany. “I never realized Siamese twins were so aesthetically satisfying. It’s like watching a ballet, the backward one in perfect step with the front one, only in reverse. I wonder if they ever turn around or if the backward one just becomes the forward one when they want to go in the opposite direction.”

“What I’m wondering is whether they’re going to stampede that mob over there,” said Osbert.

Sergeant MacVicar was already buttoning his tunic and reaching for his cap. The appearance of Miss Jane’s conjoined relatives, as they surely must be, was rapidly turning the assembled multitude, or what passed for a multitude in Lobelia Falls, into a veritable vortex of excitement. A spot of crowd control was clearly the most immediate concern in the sergeant’s mind at the moment. As he hurried from the house and strode across the street, those inside and surely those outside could hear him uttering his most dreaded words: “Noo then, what’s this all about?”

“Watching Donald in action is as good as a play,” his wife remarked fondly, gazing out the window in the approved Lobelia Falls manner: i.e., standing to one side so the neighbors couldn’t see her gawking. “Just look at that fresh little Poppy girl with her miniskirt practically up to her you-know-what, trying to give him some lip. Why isn’t she in school, is what I’d like to know. Donald’s ticking her off good and proper, and serves her right. There, she’s going, and about time.”

Gradually, the people were beginning to drift off, realizing that it was rude to stare and trying to give each other the impression that they hadn’t actually been behaving in a fashion unworthy of responsible citizens. Of course this dispersement couldn’t happen in a moment. While those inside were watching, the telephone rang. Osbert picked it up.

“Police station, Deputy Monk speaking. Oh, good morning, Sergeant Golightly. Both the cars, eh? That’s quick work, I’m sure Sergeant MacVicar will be delighted. He’s across the street breaking up a riot just now, but I’ll tell him the minute he gets back. It’s not much of a riot, more an unruly gathering, though he’s got them fairly ruly by now. Just so long as those Siamese twins don’t come out of the yarn shop too soon.”

Evidently a question was raised at the other end of the line, for Osbert replied, “We have no information as yet. We believe them to be the English cousins of the lady who runs the yarn shop. That’s right, the one who used to be in the mall over your way. She’s finding things quite a bit livelier over here. But tell me, was the body still in the first car? It was? But no identification as yet? Well, keep in touch, I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Thanks for calling.”

Osbert hung up the phone. “That was the Scottsbeck police, in case you hadn’t guessed. They’ve found the two cars ditched in the big gully on that lonesome stretch of road going over to West Scottsbeck. The body of the man who bled on Miss Jane’s floor was still in the car he came in, which is to say the one with the larger number of bullet holes in it. He had no identification of any sort on him and there’s something peculiar about the license plates, but they’ve sent his fingerprints to the RCMP and put out inquiries and all that stuff. They’re going to get back to us as soon as they have any further information. How do you feel, dear?”

“Hungry, oddly enough,” Dittany replied. “Otherwise I’m fine. What time is it?”

“Heavens to goodness, it’s after twelve and I haven’t done a thing about Donald’s lunch,” cried Mrs. MacVicar. “And I’d promised him cullen skink. I expect your mother has a meal ready and waiting for you.”

That was the polite way of saying she wished they’d get out from under her feet so that she could go back to her kitchen. Dittany knew perfectly well her mother wouldn’t have prepared a noon meal; Clorinda and Arethusa were going to the inn. However, she didn’t say so because then Mrs. MacVicar would feel duty bound to invite them to stay and she was not at all sure how her stomach would react to cullen skink.

By now, the real excitement seemed to be over. People were still going in and out of the Yarnery but they were either on serious errands or making a decent pretense at being. Officers Bob and Ray must have got word on their radio that the cars had been found, for they drove up in the police car to take over the arm-waving and leave Sergeant MacVicar free to come home.

As he was about to cross back to his house, the Siamese twins emerged from the shop and walked briskly, one forward and one backward, in the direction of the inn. Miss Jane must be regretting that she couldn’t take time out to serve them the elegant luncheon she’d no doubt had ready in her rooms over the shop. However, they would certainly have understood how impossible that was, considering the commotion they’d already witnessed and no doubt having got a hair-raising earful about what had happened at the Yarnery earlier on. Dittany and Osbert took their leave of Mrs. MacVicar, then lurked in the doorway so that they wouldn’t seem to be tracking the twins in a spirit of vulgar curiosity.

“I could whiz home and bring the car around if you don’t mind waiting another few minutes,” Osbert offered. “Are you sure you feel like walking back, darling?”

“Yes,” Dittany replied, “but I’m not sure I feel much like cooking lunch. Mum forgot the list I’d made out when she went grocery shopping yesterday and brought back mostly candied ginger and pickled mushrooms, neither of which I feel particularly in the mood for just now. I tell you what, why don’t you and I stroll over to the inn ourselves? That is, if you’d care to invite a female blimp out in public?”

“Why, Miz Dittany, ma’am,” Osbert replied enthusiastically, “how could I not want to be seen with a purty little lady like you? Shucks, if I’d o’ knowed we was steppin’ out on the town, I’d o’ wore my Sunday socks.”

“Now Deputy Monk, you know you look lovely in your mail-order shirt. That green-and-yellow plaid just matches my complexion,” his bulging consort replied.

In fact Dittany was blooming. As soon as she’d found out she was going to be dressing for three, she’d gone on a spree at the Babyland Boutique in Scottsbeck. Today she was wearing an outfit of blue denim that must have been designed with the pregnant prairie princess in mind. It had ruffles around the skirt, the sleeves, the pockets, the yoke, and the neck, every ruffle edged in scarlet braid. Dittany rather wished she’d thought to borrow her mother’s red cartwheel hat to set off her ensemble; but perhaps the ruffles were offsetting enough. She took Osbert’s arm and let him escort her solicitously the short way to the inn.

The dining room was not yet crowded, but it was getting there. While most of the patrons were making a decent pretense of keeping their eyes on their plates, the uncouth few were sneaking furtive peeks over their menus at an interesting tableau over at the far end of the room. Two dapper Englishmen were sitting back to back on low stools that had been brought in from the cocktail lounge. Each had a small table drawn up in front of him, and each table had an attractive woman sitting across from the man in the middle. The one in the blue dress with the green-and-pink spots, wearing a borrowed green suede hat stuck full of gray goose quills, was Clorinda; the one in the lilac suit, wearing Clorinda’s red cartwheel hat, was Arethusa.

“WELL, SHUCK ME FOR
a corncob!”

Dittany didn’t say it loudly. As the lone bairn among two parents and two grandparents all living together, she’d been almost overwhelmingly well brought up. Both Osbert and the oldest Pitz girl, who was hostessing at the inn to lay up college money, heard her, however; and both concurred in the feeling thus conveyed.

“Maybe you’d like that table over by your mother,” the Pitz girl offered demurely.

Osbert and Dittany said that would be fine; so she steered them to it, all three taking pains to look as if this were no big deal. Of course it would have been unthinkable for them not to stop and say hello to their respective mother and aunt, thus making it inevitable that they should get to meet the twins. Clorinda was delighted to make the introductions.