The Name of the Game Was Murder (13 page)

As I heard them I got a strange feeling. Something about these clues was odd. For an instant I was almost able to grasp the reason, but I looked the list over again and the feeling had gone. I said to the others, “As I already told you, there has to be a common theme in these clues. That’s the way it works. Why don’t we get busy and try to find it?”

Laura moaned and staggered to her feet. “It’s not true it’s not true it’s not true!” she gurgled as a fresh burst of tears poured down her cheeks. She pushed her way out of the circle of chairs and ran out of the room.

“There’s no use in any of this.” Buck’s voice was deep with despair. He slowly hoisted himself out of his chair and walked away.

Alex stood and stretched before he said to me, “If you can make anything out of ‘more silent than the tombs are,’ I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“If
I
can? How about you? You’re the ones who were supposed to figure out the clues and solve them,” I told him. “Don’t leave it all up to me. I need help.”

“Don’t we all,” Alex said, and left the group.

“Come on,” I told the others. “Help me figure out what all this stuff means.”

“You said there was a common theme, didn’t you?” Senator Maggio asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s clear. The theme is death.”

“No,” I insisted. “That’s too obvious. There has to be another meaning.”

The senator didn’t like to be contradicted. The expression on his face was unmistakable.

As he stalked out of the room Julia said, “I’ll help you, Sam.”

“So will I,” Thea added. “What do you want us to do?”

“Help me look for hidden meanings in these clues.”

“Let’s start with mine,” Julia said. “
Tea and Sympathy
is the title of a novel, and it was made into a movie.”

“Anything else here that ties in with a book or a movie?” I asked.

We studied the list but came up with zilch.

“There’s a clue about football and a clue about sailors,” I said. “At least I think Davy Jones was a sailor, wasn’t he?”

Julia half rose out of her chair. “Wait a minute! Locker! Davy Jones’s locker!”

“Aunt Thea!” I cried out. “Could the manuscript be hidden in a locker?”

Thea looked bewildered and spread out her hands helplessly. “We don’t have anything resembling a locker here,” she said.

“What about down at the dock? Are there lockers there for gear or equipment?”

“No. There’s a large metal chest in the boat shed where equipment for the boats is kept, but the crew members live in the house for employees and keep their gear there.”

“Where is this house?” Julia asked.

“Just the other side of the cove.”

“All your employees live there?”

“Yes.” Thea nodded, then suddenly said, “Except for Mrs. Engstrom, of course. I guess I think of her as more of a friend than an employee. She has a small suite of first-floor rooms here in our home.”

Julia thought a moment, then asked, “Is it possible that Augustus hid the other copy of his manuscript in the employees’ house?”

“I know he didn’t,” Thea told her. “During the last few years Augustus became sedentary and rarely went outdoors. I’m positive that Augustus didn’t leave the house at any time after he completed his manuscript.”

“What if he gave the manuscript to one of the employees to hide? Maybe Walter?” I asked.

Thea shook her head. “Mrs. Engstrom informed me that she immediately questioned Tomás, Lucy, and Walter. They knew nothing about a copy of the manuscript. In fact, they’re all frightened about everything that has happened.”

“I’d still feel better if we searched the other house,” Julia said.

Thea stood, her spine as straight and stiff as the back of the chair she’d been sitting in. “I can’t allow anyone to invade my employees’ privacy,” she said. “However, if you wish, I will ask Walter and one of the others—Buck, perhaps—if they would like to put on raincoats and boots and climb down to the boat shed in order to search the chest.” She paused and glanced at the windows, which were blurred with a steady shimmer of rain. As she turned back to Julia, Thea said, “Maybe
you’d
like to visit the boat shed, Julia.”

“Well …” Julia drew out the word. Her gaze was on the windows. “If no one else volunteers, I’ll go.”

“I’ll ask them,” Thea said, and left the room.

Julia slumped against the arm of the couch and pressed her fingertips over her eyes. “It’s never worth it,” she mumbled. “Nothing is.”

“Worth what?” I asked.

She slid her hands down her face and let them fall into her lap as she looked at me. “Peace of mind,” she said. “I gave it up too easily.”

I didn’t want to intrude on her thoughts, but I didn’t understand what she was talking about, so I asked, “How did you give it up?”

“With one stroke I traded it for a handful of beans—magic beans.” Her laugh was scary because there was no humor in it.

One stroke? Only too clearly I could visualize Augustus Trevor’s bloody head. Even though Julia and I were alone in the sun-room, which was growing darker and gloomier by the minute, I blurted out, “Are you talking about Augustus Trevor’s murder?”

For a moment Julia looked confused, but as she understood my question she leaned forward, her gaze as penetrating as a laser beam. “Are you asking if I killed Augustus?” she whispered.

“Uh—not exactly. I—I don’t know what to think.”

“Then I’ll tell you what to think.” She moved even closer, and her eyes glittered. “Don’t try getting inside other people’s minds. Don’t begin suspecting them, and above all, don’t tell other people your suspicions or you might very well find yourself in real trouble.”

*   *   *

Buck and Walter did go down to the boat shed, and they came back to report that, just as Thea had told us, there was nothing but equipment in the metal chest. Buck hadn’t been able to fit his overly long feet into any of the work boots on the back porch, and the slicker they crammed him into couldn’t fasten across his chest, so he was as grumbly cross as a cold, wet bulldog.

“We haven’t much time left in which to find the manuscript,” Alex said. “As long as Buck has survived the elements on this first trip, it might be a good idea if he made his way over to the employees’ house and took a look around.”

“Yeah? What about
you
going out in that mess, instead of me?” Growling as drops trickled from his scalp down his face and neck, Buck grabbed a fistful of Alex’s shirt, and for a moment I held my breath, sure that Buck was going to hit Alex.

But Buck suddenly flung Alex backward. Alex sprawled on the sofa, then slid to the floor, while Buck stomped toward the stairs. Alex didn’t say a word. He climbed to his feet, methodically rearranged his open collar, tucked his shirt back into his slacks, and walked toward the dining room.

Buck was a very strong man, and he had a temper. Could he have gone to Augustus’s office and argued with him? Could he have lost his temper and hit Augustus?

Maybe.

I gathered up my writing pad, the loose papers, and the pen and walked to the parlor. I had a new idea about the photographs in the Kings’ Corner. What if a message was tucked inside one of the frames behind the backing? I could hardly wait to find out.

Someone else had been even more impatient. The photos, cardboard, glass, and frames had been separated and were strewn all over the table. What a mess! I was furious at this crude violation of someone else’s property, and more than a little angry that whoever had done this had got the idea of searching the photos before I had.

I didn’t try to repair the damage. Only Aunt Thea would know which photo went with which frame. I found a seat at a small antique desk in the parlor. I turned on the small green-globed desk lamp and moved a lot of little china and crystal birds, which were arranged in groups on top of the desk, so I’d have room to work. I spread out my sheets of paper and went back to the third set of clues, writing down everything that came to mind. I checked to see if the first letter of each sentence added up to anything, but it didn’t, which didn’t surprise me. Augustus had planned some tough clues, and he wouldn’t waste his time with an easy kid trick. The clues had to have a common theme, and I was determined to find it.

“Samantha.”

I hadn’t heard anyone come into the room, and I wasn’t expecting Alex to speak my name just behind my left ear, so I let out a yelp and jumped up, my papers scattered around me.

“How long have you been looking over my shoulder?” I demanded.

“Not long. I came to see how you were doing.”

“You didn’t have to sneak up on me!”

“I wasn’t sneaking. The carpets are soft. It wasn’t my fault that you didn’t hear me come in.”

I picked up my papers, and tried to look dignified. “Sorry,” I muttered. No matter what excuse Alex gave, I
still believed he’d been sneaking, but I had to answer his question. “I haven’t got any answers yet, if that’s what you want to know.”

“You’ve made a lot of notes. May I see them?”

He reached for the papers, and I instinctively drew back.

“What’s the matter?” Alex asked. “I thought you said you wanted help. Don’t you trust me?”

“No, I don’t,” I answered. “You opened the third set of clues and tried to solve them yourself.” I glanced across the room at the Kings’ Corner. “And you’re probably the one who took apart all the framed photographs of Augustus with the kings.”

Alex shrugged. “So what if I did? There weren’t any rules to the game, or instructions to share information. We were simply told to find the treasure and win.”

Curiosity took over. “Did you find anything in the photos?”

“No.” Alex took the papers out of my hand and I let him. He walked to one of the sofas, sat down, and laid the sheets of paper on the coffee table. I sat next to him and waited while he read every one of my notes.

When he’d finished, he turned and looked right into my eyes. “You made these notes earlier. I watched you. What else have you come up with?”

“Nothing,” I said. I wished he wouldn’t stare at me like that. I felt as though he were poking around in my brain looking for answers.

“You still don’t trust me,” Alex murmured.

I inched a little farther away on the sofa as I said, “One person in this house is a murderer, so why should I trust any of you?”

“I didn’t kill Augustus,” he said, “so it’s perfectly safe for you to trust me.” His lips stretched into a broad smile, but his eyes were cold.

Alex waited for my answer, but I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t.

His smile snapped off like a door being slammed, and he got to his feet. “Very well then,” he said. “I’ll work alone.”

As he walked toward the door I jumped up and called, “Wait a minute. Give back my notes.”

“No,” he said, and that awful smile crept back to his face again. “I figured out what you’re doing, Samantha. You want to find the manuscript before the rest of us do because you probably have some odd idea that by reading it you might discover the identity of the murderer, but I’m not going to let you. No matter what I have to do to stop you, I’m going to find that manuscript first!”

I
was afraid of Alex, much too afraid to make a scene about my notes being stolen, and I convinced myself that losing the clues didn’t make that much difference. I had worked so long on the clues, I had memorized them, so I took three clean sheets of paper and jotted the clues down again under
Game Clues
#2,
Game Clues
#3, and
Game Clues
#4.

The notes, however, didn’t come back to mind as easily. I remembered the words of that yucky song Aunt Thea sang about growing old with silver threads among the gold, and I wrote down Oliver’s last name, Goldsmith. What else had I jotted down?

Thea called to me from the doorway, and as she briskly came toward me she said, “Samantha, I thought of something that might help with Alex’s clue about Jason. Wasn’t it something like not blaming Jason because it wasn’t his fault?”

I read from the clues: “ ‘It wasn’t entirely Jason’s fault.’ ”

“I have an idea,” Thea said, and beamed. “Jason and Medea. Remember the tale? Medea urged Jason to steal her father’s golden fleece. What was her father’s name …? King … oh, dear. Do you remember?”

“Not at the moment,” I said, but as I wrote down the sentence I began to get an excited bubbling in my stomach. It was the way I used to feel when I was coming close to working out the answer to some really hard puzzle Darlene had dreamed up for me.

“Do Jason and Medea fit in?” Thea asked.

Did they fit! The pieces of this puzzle began to come together, and in my excitement I gripped the edge of the table. “I don’t know yet,” I mumbled, and couldn’t meet Thea’s eyes. “They might. Thanks.”

Thea was Mom’s aunt, so why couldn’t I trust her enough to tell her that she may have given me the answer to solving the third set of clues? What was the matter with me?

I had just opened my mouth to spill the whole thing when Laura appeared in the doorway, looking more like someone who was auditioning for the part of a bag lady than someone who was supposed to be a glamorous movie star. “Thea,” she moaned, “do you have any aspirin?”

“Of course,” Thea said. “Come upstairs and I’ll get it for you.”

As they left I sighed with relief. It really wasn’t time to tell Thea yet.

I couldn’t wait to test my new theory on the rest of the clues in this third group. When I re-read Laura’s clue, I smothered a laugh. Laura had said something about a goose that laid a golden egg, and she was right. Augustus
hadn’t accused
Laura
of laying an egg. He’d been referring to the goose, and there was no doubt about it—a golden egg would certainly be a doozy.