Grime and Punishment: A Jane Jeffry Mystery (19 page)

She went back into the bedroom and picked up her purse. An object in the middle of the bed caught her eye. A piece of paper with something on top. She stepped around the side of the bed to reach for it, then drew her hand back with a cry.

The note said, "MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.”

The new paring knife was driven through the paper and into the mattress.

Nineteen

Jane
opened her lingerie drawer
and
threw
an
armload of underwear over the paring knife and note so that the children wouldn't see it if they came in. It would look like she'd been sorting laundry. Then she closed the bedroom door.

They'd be here any minute. Panic rose in her throat like a bubble. After taking a few long breaths, she dialed Shelley's number, but it rang six times without an answer. Jane hung up when Katie came to the door.

“What are you doing with your door shut, Mom?"

“Oh, was it shut?" Jane said, forcing a smile that made her lips hurt.

“Mom, you're acting weird. Jenny's mom is waiting. If it's okay with you, she said Jenny and I could go with her to watch her get her hair frosted. Okay? I'll be back in time for dinner, and I don't have any homework. How do you think I'd look with my hair frosted?”

Jane reached for her purse and took out a twenty-dollar bill. "Here, why don't you treat Jenny and her mom to dinner at the mall?"

“Huh?" Katie stared at the money as if itmight bite. "You're giving me this and I didn't even ask?"

“Yes, now go. Go."

“Oh-kay!”

Jane closed the bedroom door again and followed Katie downstairs. Mike was just coming in. He dumped his backpack full of books on top of Katie's on the kitchen floor. "Listen, Mom, a bunch of the guys asked me to play a little basketball and go for pizza. Do you care?"

“No, that's fine.”

He had his mouth open, ready to launch into an argument on behalf of his plans. "Hey, you sick or something? You look kinda pale."

“Just tired," she said.

“Hey, in band this morning, Old Bellhaven started having a big fit 'cause nobody was marching in time, so he makes us go in the band room and sits us all down. He's hopping around and yelling his head off like he does, and he goes up to the board and writes these huge letters
P — R—I — D—E,
see? And he says, 'I want you all to have some of this!' And he bangs his fist on the board. Old Scott's sitting back there, tapping away with the sticks and so he stands up and says, "Thanks, Mr. Bellhaven, I'll take the
D.' “

Jane forced a smile.

“Mom, what's wrong? You usually like Scott stories.”

She wanted to hug him and assure him that she loved Scott stories and loved him more and wouldn't let anything happen to him. But instead she punched him on the arm and said, "Couldn't sleep last night, that's all. Tell me again tomorrow when I'm awake and I'll laugh. I promise. Now get along to your basketball game.”

Unlike Joyce Greenway, she was a rotten actress. Mike headed for the door, then paused. "Are you really sure it's okay if I go?"

“Positive.”

Two down, one remaining.

Shelley drove up as Mike was leaving on his bike. Jane ran out to meet her. She could see the woman who drove Todd's car pool on Mondays coming down the street. "Shelley, go up to my bedroom and carefully lift the underwear off the bed. I've got to get rid of Todd. I don't want the kids to know.”

Shelley got out of the minivan. "Don't want them to know what?"

“You'll see. Don't touch anything but the underwear.”

Shelley went inside. Jane waited for the gray Volkswagen to pull in the drive. Todd tumbled out, wrestling with Elliot Wallenberg. "Mom, can Elliot stay here and play soldiers?"

“Honey, I've got a headache. Why don't you both go play soldiers at Elliot's instead?”

That was agreeable to them and, giggling, they piled back into the car. Fortunately, the Monday driver was a woman Jane hardly knew, a brand-new addition to the neighborhood, and she was spared having to make pleasant conversation. By the time Jane got back to the house, Shelley was standing at the door. She had one hand over her mouth as if physically stopping a scream.

“Have you called the police?”

Jane came inside and watched out the window to make sure the gray Rabbit hadn't turned back for any reason. "Not yet. I didn't want the kids to know. I'll call now. Do you have that number for Detective VanDyne? I don't know what I've done with it."

“I've got it at home. Wait, isn't that it on the pad next to the phone?"

“Yes. I wonder if whoever did this noticed that I keep his number handy for constant communication?" She dialed. "Detective VanDyne, this is Jane Jeffry. I need you to come right over. Someone has stabbed my bed. I mean, well — come over and you'll see what I mean. No, wait! No sirens. Please don't come with sirens or police cars.”

She hung up before he could ask her any questions, then went into the living room and flung herself down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Shelley plopped down in a most unShelleylike manner in the chair across from her.

“If I kept a diary, I could have a whole month's worth for this one day. It will live in my memory forever, unfortunately."

“For heaven's sake, Jane, don't go on about diaries. Tell me about that knife in your bed!"

“There's nothing to tell you. It was there like that when I came home. I saw it and threw some clothes over it, and got to work trying to find you and get the kids safely out of the house without alarming them."

“Who put it there?"

“Shelley! That's a dumb question. All I know is it's there. Could Joyce have done it before you got her out?"

“No, she was all but clinging to me the whole time. I had to pry her fingers off my arm to get her into her car."

“Did you lock the door?"

“Jane, I've been combing my brain to remember. I just don't know. I pulled it shut. If you had the button turned, it locked. Did you?”

Jane put her arm over her eyes and sighed. "I have no idea. No idea.”

The doorbell rang and Jane tried to get up. She was so emotionally exhausted that her legs wouldn't even move right. She was almost woozy, like coming out of ether in the dentist's office.

Shelley jumped up. "Stay there. I'll let him in.

Jane heard the door opening and Shelley's soft tones. Then there was the creaking of the third step as her friend took Van Dyne upstairs to see the knife and note. Absurdly, she was wishing the underwear she'd strewn around the bed was lacy stuff, not practical, white cotton.

She heard them come downstairs and go from door to door, checking the locks. Apparently the knife had changed Detective VanDyne's mind about her, because when he and Shelley came back into the living room a few minutes later, he was pleasant and polite. "I'd like to have a man from the lab over. May I use your phone?"

“Ask him to come in a plain car, not a police car," Shelley said. "Jane doesn't want her children frightened."

“Of course.”

He was back in a moment. Jane managed topull herself upright. "When did this happen?" he asked.

“I found it about three-thirty. I had been gone from about two or two-thirty."

“It wasn't there before that?”

Jane struggled to think back. "I don't remember if I was in that room anytime today after I got dressed. I don't think so."

“No hurry. Just think it out step by step. Talk it through if that helps."

“All right. I got the kids off to school and left to ride with Shelley to get birdseed around quarter of nine."

“Did you lock the house? I don't see any obvious evidence of forced entry."

“Yes, that time I locked up. I'm sure of it.”

“When did you get back?”

Jane looked at Shelley and shrugged. "Around nine-thirty or ten?" Shelley nodded. Jane went on. "I came inside, and a few minutes later Shelley came over. We went over to her house, and you called.”

VanDyne flipped a page of the small notebook he was writing in. "That was at 10:08. Did you lock up the house then?"

“I don't know. I think so. You came over when?"

“Twenty minutes later."

“I didn't go back home after that for a while. When you left, we cleaned up the kitchen and put all the borrowed dishes in Shelley's minivan to take back. We went to Suzie Williams's house first—"

“You drove next door?"

“We didn't mean to, exactly. But yes. She was just getting home as we were leaving. We stayed a few minutes, and then we went to see Robbie Jones.”

VanDyne looked up from his note-taking, an eyebrow lifted. "You weren't, by any chance, trying to do my job for me, were you?"

“Whatever do you mean?" Jane asked, sounding even to herself like Miss America being asked if she were a virgin.

“I mean, it's odd that you happened to be visiting with the very people I'm questioning.”

Jane slipped off her sneaker and started massaging her foot as if she had a sudden cramp.

Shelley said, "Jane, I think we better tell him."

“What kind of friend are you?" Jane asked. She was joking, but embarrassed. "All right. We were trying to find out if and why they were being blackmailed by that awful Edith."

“And were they?"

“Oh, yes. At least two of them were. Suzie says not and I believe her. But Robbie and Joyce—" Jane stopped. She could feel the hateful tears filling her eyes again. She wasn't going to break down and make a bleary-eyed, blubbering fool of herself in front of him. Bad enough that he now knew she wore boring white underwear.

“I don't mean to upset you. We know about Mrs. Jones. Robbie. But not about Mrs. Greenway.”

Shelley sat forward, as if to speak, but Jane put up a hand to stop her. "My husband, my late husband—" She paused, taking a deep breath. "My late husband was leaving me for Joyce Greenway the night
he — became
my late husband.”

There, she'd said it.

He had the good grace to look surprised. "I am sorry I had to know that, Mrs. Jeffry. Jane. Off the record, I've also got to tell you I find it hard to believe."

“Oh, it's true enough. She admitted—"

“No, what I meant was, I've interviewed you and I've interviewed her and I can't imagine—”

Jane felt herself blushing. Actually blushing.
Oh, well, he'll probably think it's a hot flash.
"Will you be able to tell anything about the person who did this from the paper the note was on? I've read that the police can trace paper—"

“It was the back of your electric bill."

“She could have at least used a brand of paper only made in Singapore between March and July of the year she was there with her brother—"

“She?Singapore? What?"

“I was just thinking about mystery books. It always turns on something like that." Now she was back on familiar ground, he was scowling at her again. It was oddly comforting. "We only talked to Suzie Williams, Robbie Jones, and Joyce Greenway. It had to be one of them."

“Or somebody they talked to about your — questioning," he said.

“You mean snooping. I guess that's true, but I'm pretty sure neither Robbie nor Joyce would have gotten right on the phone to talk to somebody else about it.”

He leaned back and studied her for a long moment. She felt like a used car about to get its tires kicked. "You think you know who did this, don't you?"

“It doesn't matter what I think. I've had ample proof today of the general failure of my perceptions."

“Still, I'd like to know your opinion.”

Shelley nodded her encouragement, and Jane said, "For what it's worth, I'm certain it's Robbie Jones. Suzie Williams was pretty much amused by my questions. Joyce Greenway — well, she was as upset as I was by my knowing. Not that I'd like to give her public credit for having a conscience, but I think she probably went home and just kept crying. But Robbie was furious. She screamed at us to get out of her house and kept on screaming. I've never seen anybody look at me with such hatred."

“And all these women were home all day?"

“No, Suzie was just coming home from work early, and Joyce doesn't have a job. Robbie said she was leaving for work in nine minutes, but that was when we got there. She might have changed her mind."

“I'll check on it." The doorbell rang. "That must be my man from the lab. I'll get it." He went to answer the door, talked for a minute with the newcomer, and sent him up the stairs.

When he came back, Jane said, "He won't be long, will he? I don't want the kids to know what danger they're in. What danger I've
put
them in."

“You didn't mean to. And, frankly, you were able to find out at least one thing that we might have never known. Now, you need to decide where you're going to go."

“Go? Why should I go anywhere? Oh, you mean in case Ro — the person who did thiscomes back. I see. Do I have to go? I'd have to explain it all to the kids and—"

“Don't you have some relatives you can stay with?"

“Only my motherin-law — and I'd ' rather move into a kennel of rabid dogs."

“Well, I could ask the county if they can spare an officer to stay here, but they're pretty short-staffed as it is, and I don't know how long it would be."

“What about your Uncle Jim?" Shelley asked. "He's offered, but it's so far out of his way, and if it's going to be for long—"

“I hope it won't be any time at all," VanDyne said. "But I can't make any promises."

“You mean this could just drag on forever? What are you going to do to solve it?”

“Everything we can.”

The man from the lab came downstairs just then and handed VanDyne a note. He read it and said to Shelley and Jane, "Mrs. Jones came to work in a disturbed state today and left after a half hour.”

He made no further comment then, but simply rose and tucked his notebook into his jacket pocket. Jane stood too, and walked to the front door with him and the lab man, who was carrying a plastic bag.