Bantam of the Opera (27 page)

“That would help,” Joe agreed. But his expression conveyed grudging acceptance. And not-so-reluctant admiration. “I still find it strange that Schutzendorf didn't take a chance and just get the hell away from Heraldsgate Hill.”

But Judith gave a firm shake of her head. “He didn't dare. Not after he overheard my phone conversation with Corazon. He figured the police must be after him. Amina probably told him the thermos had been found. Schutzendorf couldn't bury the thing the night of the murder because he was still at the hospital. Then it was raining—he was afraid of leaving footprints. Woody and his crew showed up Monday night, the squad car kept going by, and Schutzendorf had to plan his move very carefully. He
didn't count on Tippy's taking off, especially so early Tuesday morning. It had stopped raining, but it was still dark. She saw him digging around while she was waiting for Justin, but she couldn't be sure of what he was doing. Naturally, it confirmed her suspicions, which she had already shared with the others. That's what that triangle doodle of Plunkett's meant—Inez and Tippy and Justin were in fact a triangle, but Plunkett put his own initials in the middle because they were all part of the group that suspected Schutzendorf. Tippy is very sharp, not the least like the goofball she pretended to be. She seems to think that some of those recent ‘accidents' might have been staged.”

Joe remained intransigent. “Tippy isn't one-hundred-percent sure of what she saw. Schutzendorf could have been digging for gold or chasing gophers. None of this will stand up in court. And Schutzendorf knew it. His reaction doesn't make sense.”

Judith fanned herself with her linen table napkin. “Now, now—it does if you're more afraid of an insurance company than you are of the local police.” She threw her husband an arch little glance.

“Wait a minute…” Joe began, but Judith shushed him with a wave of the napkin.

“I overheard Schutzendorf talking to the insurance people in New Haven. He had to wait six months to get his money.

“That's right,” Renie chimed in, fully recovered from her embarrassment and trying to get the waiter's attention. “Madge Navarre says that with a big payoff like this—especially since it was a fairly new policy with not that many premiums paid in—the insurance investigators would make you guys down at headquarters look like amateurs. No offense, Joe. But when was Madge ever wrong?”

Madge Navarre's reputation for being both astute and accurate bordered on the legendary. “She should have been
a cop,” muttered Joe, finally allowing the waiter to present himself.

Renie ordered six hors d'oeuvres, presumably to share. Judith wasn't quite sure what her hungry cousin's intentions really were, but Bill Jones was checking his watch. It was perilously close to six o'clock. His recurrent ulcer had to be fed on time. Renie passed him the bread basket; she'd only eaten half of its contents so far.

“What you're saying then,” Bill said, buttering a crust of sourdough bread, “is that Schutzendorf didn't dare take any chances. If he'd actually”—Bill had the grace to grimace at Judith—“managed to kill you, would Tippy have been next?”

Judith shook her head. “I don't think so. He'd have figured that her testimony didn't have any weight without mine. About the hat, I mean. And Skjoval Tolvang had no idea that the leavings he picked up in the yard could nail a murderer.” Judith paused, sighing a little. “If it hadn't been for that tea being an antidote…or for Edna Fiske realizing that the pips could be lethal…or Tolvang digging up the backyard for the toolshed renovation…”

“The what?” Joe had set his martini glass down very carefully.

It was Judith's turn to look up at the star-studded ceiling. “Uhhh…Ummm…Gee, didn't I mention that part?” She turned to Renie in an apparent appeal for help.

“Crime prevention,” said Renie firmly. “You do believe in stopping homicide before it happens, don't you, Joe?” She beamed at the waiter, who was placing several dishes of hors d'oeuvres, both hot and cold, before her.

Joe was looking puzzled. “It depends,” he replied, snatching a Teriyaki chicken wing away from Renie.

“It's like this,” Renie explained through a mouthful of mushroom stuffed with crab. “Our mothers are about to kill each other. We could put them into a Home. But that costs too much and then we'd all have to visit twice a week. Or we could let one of them do the other in. Then you'd have to arrest one and bury the other. Very embar
rassing. And also costly. Of course we could keep Aunt Gertrude in the apartment and move my mother in with us.” She paused just long enough to see Bill Jones start to turn purple. “Here, have a prawn.” She shoved the nearest appetizer plate at her husband. “But we don't want to see Bill have apoplexy before our very eyes, do we?”

“What about
me?
” demanded Joe, whose color almost matched Bill's.

“
Joe
…” Judith's voice held a pleading note. “Mother is
old
. She's crippled. She wants to hang on to her independence. She'll be completely separated from the main house. But at least she'll be on her own…ah, turf. Don't be so selfish.”

Joe sipped at his martini, his green-eyed gaze drifting off across the crowded dining room. “First Herself, now Itself. What will become of poor Joe?”

Judith gave his arm a little shake. “You've got me.
Myself
. Isn't that what you swore you always wanted?”

Slowly, Joe turned to look at his wife of four months. His color had returned to normal; the gold flecks sparkled in his magic eyes. “Did I say that? Hmmmm.” He leaned over and kissed Judith lightly on the lips. She kissed him back, harder.

Renie turned to Bill. “Did you eat
all
those prawns?”

“Why not? It's past my dinner hour.”

Renie gave an exasperated toss of her head. Bill stole her last stuffed mushroom. Judith and Joe stopped kissing. The waiter went into reverse and a moment later, showed up with champagne.

“Who ordered this?” asked Bill.

“Not me,” Joe replied.

From across the room, someone waved a hand. All four heads turned. Two people sat at a corner table. They lifted their glasses in a toast.

It was Tippy and Justin Kerr.

Judith grinned; Renie clapped.

Joe nodded approval at the label. The waiter uncorked
the bottle. Glasses were produced, Joe took a sample sip, and nodded again.

“
Libiamo!
” cried Renie. They all drank, and Verdi refrains danced through their heads.

 

Four days later, Gertrude returned to Hillside Manor with Sweetums growling at the foot of her walker. Gertrude didn't quite allow her daughter to see how pleased she was, but Judith knew from the sparkle in her mother's eyes that this was a happy day. Joe was still not reconciled to the idea of installing his mother-in-law in the remodeled toolshed, but at least he felt the timing of her return was appropriate.

It was Halloween.