A Midsummer Eve's Nightmare (12 page)

When Tori got up to go to the ladies room Elizabeth went with her. “Tori, I’m so sorry I upset you. I know I could be wrong—I pray I am.”

Tori gave her sister a peck of a kiss on the cheek. “I know—ever since Mom died I’ve been your responsibility. She would have wanted you to say those things. But don’t think I haven’t thought them myself. That’s probably why I got so upset.”

‘“The lady doth too much protest’?”

“I suppose. But you are wrong, you know. I can’t prove it, but you are. You’ll see.”

“I do hope so, Tori. Because I really do like him a lot. And I’m crazy about you, but I can’t imagine why.” They went back to the men and their sumptuous sandwiches with smiles on their faces.

It seemed that the serious talks they had shared had cleared the air and brought a new closeness between the foursome. After lunch they went to the Jeremiah Nunan House, an elegant Queen Anne mansion whose many angles, bays and gables fashioned of stained glass, terra cotta, wrought iron, and at least six different kinds of wood, had been constructed in 1892 from a mail order kit.

“Mail order? That’s not possible,” Tori protested as she crossed the wide verandah and sat in the red-curtained gazebo that was part of the structure of the porch.

“It’s true.” Elizabeth consulted yet another brochure. “All the parts were shipped from Knoxville, Tennessee, in 137 crates which filled 14 railroad boxcars. It took eight months to assemble and cost $7,792.” She held out a page. “See, here’s an ad from the company who built it. They offer the plans for $2 or the houses from between $500 to $10,000.”

“Incredible. I thought mail order was a comparatively new business.” Gregg examined the ad.

“Hardly. I’ve heard of similar things being offered from old Sears & Roebuck catalogs,” Elizabeth said.

“And I don’t advise you to argue with this woman about the mail order business,” Richard said with a smile. “I did once and wound up married to her.”

Gregg looked confused until Richard explained how it was Elizabeth’s response to a mail order ad of a mystery weekend that led to their engagement.

Elizabeth couldn’t help smiling at the memory in spite of the discomfort she felt discussing the topic of marriage with her sister and the charming man who seemed so likely to be proven a philanderer and a murderer.

Chapter 15

AFTER TOURING THE BEAUTIFULLY furnished house, with Elizabeth mentally placing each piece of period furniture in the dream bungalow she and Richard would live in someday, they drove back through the golden summer afternoon, car windows rolled down, relaxed and quiet.

The mood lasted until Tori pushed open her apartment door. “Oh, no!” She stopped stock still, her face turning ghostly white.

“What’s the matter?” Elizabeth almost bumped into her sister. “It isn’t—” Then she stepped into the room and saw the shambles of what had been Tori and Erin’s living room. “What happened? Who could have done this?”

Richard strode across the room, his long legs stepping carefully over the objects littering the floor. He checked both bedrooms and the bathroom carefully, then turned, shaking his head. “They’re a mess, too.”

Tori’s tight little whisper was barely audible. “Erin?”

“No sign of her.”

“And no blood?” she persisted.

“Nothing obvious.” Richard considered a moment while Gregg checked the kitchen. “This doesn’t look like the scene of a life-and-death struggle. It’s too comprehensive. Everything’s been pulled over and turned upside down.”

“Do you think they were looking for something?” Elizabeth moved to put her arm around Tori, who had begun shaking, but just then Gregg reentered from the kitchen, and Tori ran to him. Seeing her sister turn to Gregg so completely for comfort worried Elizabeth more than the tumbled apartment.

Richard continued, “Maybe. But it doesn’t look like much of a systematic search, either. For example, two desk drawers have been dumped, but the files look untouched. The sofa cushions have been flung across the room, but the chair cushions seem undisturbed.” He considered for another moment. “Pure and simple vandalism. Or another ‘warning,’ I’d guess. But we’d better get the experts.” He stepped to the telephone.

“Fingerprints,” Elizabeth reminded him.

Richard nodded, pulled out a clean white handkerchief and picked up the receiver with it.

The color was back in Tori’s cheeks when she turned from Gregg’s embrace. “But where is Erin?
Enemy of the People
was over an hour ago.” She looked at her watch. “Hour and a half, even. She always comes right back for a cup of lemon tea with honey in it. It’s her big thing after each performance—she’s fanatical about taking care of her throat.”

Tori turned to check the kitchen herself. “Oh, no! Look!” The tea kettle sat on the counter beside the open box of herbal tea bags. Erin’s yellow-flowered mug lay on the floor in the middle of an amber puddle. “She must have been here when the intruder came. What have they done with her?” The question came out on a rising note of panic. Gregg put his arm around her again.

Richard turned from the phone. “Officers Lempson and Fellows will be right here. Try to think, Tori. I know they’ll want to know—did you keep anything valuable here? Old books, for example, or jewelry—Erin’s a rich woman. Did she keep anything expensive around?”

Tori shook her head. “Old books, but not valuable. Nothing rare. A lot of sentimental stuff—scrapbooks, even stuffed animals—theatre people are like that. Sentimental. Superstitious, I suppose.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! Spot and Ruff were valuable. We never thought of them that way, though. They were Erin’s talismen. If they’ve been stolen or broken—” She began digging through the debris of the emptied bookcase.

“Spot and Ruff?” Richard asked.

“Staffordshire dogs, about ten inches high, a Dalmatian and a Collie.”

“I see, Spot for the Dalmatian and Ruff for the Collie.” Richard nodded.

“No, it was the other way around. That was part of the fun.” Tori moved to dig at the other end of the pile, and Elizabeth joined her. “I think they were Erin’s grandmother’s or something. Anyway, she had loved them since she was tiny. Something from her old life, she said. I figured that meant before her father got so rich and tried to run her life—back when things were perfect like she always talks about.” She moved some books that had landed on top of a pillow. “Oh, thank goodness.” The dogs were under the pillow, in perfect condition.

Then Tori burst into tears. “Oh, but how awful it would be if—if—” She stopped and sniffed. “If the dogs are okay, but Erin isn’t.”

“It’s far too soon to jump to that sort of conclusion.” Richard’s voice held a note of bracing sternness. “She may well be off joyriding with Dirk in his little red Jag, or have rushed up to the theatre for some adjustment to a costume or to check something in a scene—light check or something. . .”

“That’s right,” Elizabeth joined in. “Maybe she just went for a walk—felt like listening to music in the park, or something. It is pretty stuffy in here.” The broken window had been replaced and was tightly locked. “I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to get out.” That was the best she could do to reassure Tori. The spilled tea was not a hopeful sign. Elizabeth tried not to think about it because every time she saw it in her mind, the pale brown tea kept turning blood red. And there was something else wrong with the scene—only she couldn’t think what. Something she had forgotten. Or something out of character. . .

“Maybe we should check around for her.” Gregg’s suggestion interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts.

“Maybe, but the police might prefer to do that.” Just as Richard spoke, a green sedan and a black-and-white police car pulled up outside. Two plain-clothed detectives and two uniformed officers strode toward the door.

But the attention of all in the apartment turned back inside as Tori gave a whoop of joy. “Oh! I just thought! See, Elizabeth,
I told
you so! Gregg couldn’t have done it. He was with us!”

Gregg’s mouth fell open in a look of absolute amazement. “Is that what. . .? Did you think. . .?”

Officer Lempson stepped through the open doorway. “Gregory Parkin, would you please accompany Detectives Carson and Stallings here to the station for further questioning?”

Chapter 16

ELIZABETH EXPECTED TORI TO dissolve in hysterics as they watched the tall, slim Gregg walk down the sidewalk between the two policemen and get into the police car. Instead, however, Tori showed a healthy wave of anger which spurred her to action. “That’s insane! Gregg couldn’t possibly have done anything. I’m going to look for Erin.”

The sturdy Rory Fellows, standing firmly in the doorway, had other ideas. “You could help more by staying here and answering our questions, Miss.”

“Have you moved anything?” Lempson asked.

Richard explained about handling the phone, and Tori told about searching for the Staffordshire dogs. “And you found them? And nothing seems to be missing?” he asked. “And that’s all you’ve touched—the phone and the mess around the bookcase?” He waved to his assistant to carry on. Sergeant Fellows pulled out a notebook and recorded what Erin had said before they left, where they went, what they did, when they got back, Erin’s usual activities on a matinee day. . .

“Yes, she definitely said Dirk was coming over. Now, why don’t you get over to his place instead of making us repeat everything six times?” Tori flared.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll need to do that,” the officer said as a sporty little red car pulled up. Dirk bounded out and started toward the door, whistling.

The note died on his lips when he entered the disheveled room. “What happened here? Been rehearsing the Battle of Agincourt?”

“Where were you this afternoon, sir?” Officer Fellows held his pen poised.

Dirk took a step backward. “What is this? Aren’t you supposed to give me a warning or something?”

“Just a routine question. Do you mind helping us?”

“No, of course not. What do you need to know?”

Elizabeth broke in. “When we left this morning Erin said you’d be coming over. Did you?”

Dirk held out both hands. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But she expected you this morning.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. But I had some business in Medford. It took longer than I expected. Then I knew she had a matinee this afternoon. So, here I am to apologize.” He looked around. “So, where’s Erin?”

“That’s what we want to know.” Sergeant Lempson frowned at him. The police finished looking over the ransacked apartment, dusted a few items for fingerprints, and asked a few more questions.

“Can I start cleaning up?” Tori asked, when they seemed to be finished.

Lempson nodded. “I don’t think we can learn any more from this.”

“Right then, I’ll be off. So glad I could be of service, officer.” Dirk sketched a jaunty wave and started down the walk.

Tori rounded on the policeman. “Do you mean to say you aren’t taking Dirk in with you? Why don’t you fingerprint him? He’s a much more likely suspect that Gregg. How dare you take someone in that wasn’t even in town when this happened? And don’t give me that line about ‘just routine’—” She stopped Lempson openmouthed. “You’d better not make him late for the play tonight—he has a major makeup job for this one. You’ll hear from Trevor Stevens if you mess up this performance, I can tell you.”

Elizabeth was amazed. She’d never seen Tori like that. It was certainly an improvement over dissolving in tears. Maybe her baby sister was growing up.

The police made no attempt to defend against her barrage. They just folded up their notebooks and backed out the door.

“Well, let’s get started on this.” Elizabeth picked up several disordered books.

Tori tossed her long black mane. “Go ahead if you want to. I’m going to do those blockheaded policemen’s work for them. I can’t believe it. They just drove off without questioning any of the neighbors. Surely someone saw or heard something. Mrs. Martin is a terrible snoop. She never misses anything.”

This time, however, it seemed Mrs. Martin had missed whatever had happened in the apartment beside her comfortable, two-story blue house. For, in spite of the fact that the round, grey-haired lady asked twice as many questions as she answered, she had apparently spent her time watching TV game shows with her two favorite cats on her lap ever since returning from her marketing. She picked up a purring grey ball and stroked it. “That nice young school teacher from Minnesota won $2000. His wife was so happy she cried. It was lovely.”

Elizabeth looked at Thompkins and was pleased to see the cut over his eye appeared to be healing nicely. “I’m glad you had such a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Martin.”

When they emerged from her screened porch they saw that the police were not so slack as Tori had accused them of being. Rory Fellows and a young policeman they hadn’t met were walking up the hill knocking on doors on each side of the street.

“Let the professionals handle it,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s get your apartment sorted out. If you can find that something’s missing it might help.”

“I have found something missing.” They looked at Tori. “My roommate is missing. And I seem to be the only one who really cares. Did you notice—Dirk hardly reacted. His girlfriend could be—be. . . something awful could have happened. And all he does is stand there and answer a few inane questions and then go swanning off again.”

Now she really got going. With the expressiveness learned from a summer spent with professional actors she became more emotional as she went on. “And what do the police do besides ask dumb questions? They arrest the one person who couldn’t possibly have done anything because he was miles away at the time. It just makes me so mad!” They reentered the apartment, and she slammed the door shut.

“They didn’t arrest Gregg, Tori,” Elizabeth reminded her. “They just wanted to question him. Maybe they think he’s especially observant or something.”

The three of them set to work. Richard opened the door and windows for fresh air and righted the larger pieces of furniture while the women picked up books and lamps and sorted through personal items. They had only been working about twenty minutes when the light breeze blowing from the direction of the theatre brought a few high notes of recorder music through the open window.