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Authors: Suzanne Young

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BOOK: Murder by Yew
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No, it was the packaging for a set of wine glasses, then the radio box, and finally the keys were inside the necklace case. By that time, I was absolutely certain he’d bought me the strand of pearls I’d been hinting for.”

Edna laughed along with Starling. She felt happier and more relaxed than she had in a long time. She’d been right in deciding on a change of scene, and Starling almost always cheered her up. This weekend, she would forget her worries for a while. “I’m starving,” she said, realizing with some surprise that it was true. “What about that dinner you promised me?”

Obligingly, Starling headed for the kitchen to start dinner, and Edna set two places at the round dining table in a small alcove at one end of the living room. When she’d finished, she wandered over to look at the new pictures Starling had hung on her “trial” wall.

Starling owned half of a photography studio. During her off hours, she walked around Boston taking pictures of the city and its people as the mood struck her. She would enlarge what she considered to be the best shots and hang them on one of the whitewashed walls in her living room, which she referred to as her trial wall. The pictures she didn’t tire of were moved to different locations in the apartment or hung in the studio where, more often than not, they sold quickly.


When did you hang these?” Edna called over her shoulder as she stood looking at the current display.


I assume you’re talking about the pictures I took at Quincy Market last week.” Starling poked her head around the corner. “That was really weird.” She came out of the kitchen to stand beside Edna, pointing at one of the pictures with the tip of a carrot. “Some guy stopped me when I was walking through the Market. I wasn’t going to shoot there that day, but he offered me fifty bucks to take some pictures of his brother-in-law, the mime. Said he was on his way to the airport, and his camera was packed. He wanted to surprise his wife and said it was probably as close as she’d ever come to seeing her brother perform in Boston, since they live in Seattle, and she refuses to travel.”


You didn’t mention the fact that you make a living at this, did you?” It was a rhetorical question. Edna knew her daughter would have been silently amused.

Starling laughed. “Fortunately, I had a new roll of film in the camera. I took a bunch of shots and slipped a business card into the canister before giving it to him.” She frowned. “He left in a big hurry. Didn’t even say good-bye to his brother-in-law.” She shrugged and bit the end off the carrot. “Must have been anxious to catch his plane.”


Wouldn’t you have liked to see his face when he read your card?”


You bet. If he likes my work, maybe he’ll send some business my way.” Starling leaned toward one of the pictures. “After the guy left, I decided to get some black-and-whites of the mime for myself. I’d taken only a few shots before he disappeared, too. I turned my back for a second to get a meter reading off the bricks and when I turned around again, he was gone.” Starling straightened and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “The place started filling up, so I hung around for a while. Some of the pictures turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Edna walked along the wall, looking closer at the photos. All at once, she stopped and leaned forward. “Most peculiar,” she said, squinting at one shot in particular.

The picture had been taken before the mime left. A low railing separated him from several tables at an outside cafe. From behind the performer, Starling had done a good job of capturing the delight on the faces of his audience. The general pleasure, however, didn’t apply to the table directly in front of him. One woman and two men were scowling at someone who was mostly hidden behind the entertainer.


What is most peculiar, Mother? Is that a comment on my work?”

Edna smiled at her and waved a hand in protest. “Nothing of the kind. As usual, you’ve caught the spirit of the city.” She turned back to the wall and pointed to the glowering woman in the photograph. “What I thought was odd was this picture of my housekeeper.”

 

 

 

 

 

Twelve

 


You’re kidding. Where?” Starling leaned over Edna’s shoulder to see the image of Beverly Lewis frowning at the person hidden by the mime. “Oh, sure. I remember them. I took that shot because everyone else in the crowd was having such a good time, and these people looked like they wanted to kill each other. Some contrast, huh?”

Edna nodded. “Bev certainly looks angry, doesn’t she?”


So, that’s the housekeeper you told me about, the one everyone’s dying to hire?” Starling shuddered. “She doesn’t look like someone I’d want working in my house.”


I know it’s hard to believe, seeing her in this picture, but she’s actually quite good-natured. I bet that’s her brother.” Edna pointed to a slight man sitting to Beverly’s left, guessing at the relationship because of the almost identical twisted expressions on their faces. “The man with the moustache doesn’t look at all familiar, and he doesn’t look quite as angry as the other two. Who are they glaring at? Who’s behind the mime?”


A woman.” Starling hesitated, speaking slowly and frowning slightly as she recalled the memory of the fourth person at the small outdoor table. “She was wearing huge dark glasses and … and a big, floppy hat,” Starling finished triumphantly as she moved to stand beside her mother. “As I remember, she wore black, all black, except her hatband was bright red, and she had several silver chains around her neck. Quite a stunning woman, actually.” She glanced at Edna. “Is it important?”


I don’t think so. It’s just that I’ve never seen this side of Beverly. She’s usually so jovial.”


I don’t think any of the pictures of the woman in black came out very well, mostly because that big, floppy hat covered her face. The proof sheets are at the studio, though, if you want to see them.”


Maybe I’ll follow you to work before I leave Monday morning. I’ll look at them then. It’s not important enough to make a special trip.” Edna paused and squinted at the picture again before adding, “I am curious, though.”

Gesturing at the photo, Starling snorted a laugh. “You’re right about one thing. It
is
pretty weird that I should have a picture of your housekeeper on my wall.” The carrot in her hand must have reminded her of dinner. “Oh, no. The fish!” She raced back to the kitchen.

Edna followed more slowly and finished making the salad while Starling rescued the almost blackened fish and cooked some rice. When she finally sat down to eat, Edna realized again just how famished she was. Photographs and death were pushed to the back of her mind as she enjoyed the meal and gossiped with her daughter. After dinner, they sat in the living room with a pot of tea and a plate of sliced pound cake on the low table in front of them.


What did Dad say about what happened last week?” Starling passed a cup and saucer to Edna before picking up her own and snuggling into the pillows in one corner of the couch.

Settled into the opposite corner, Edna sipped her drink before replying. She knew Starling was talking about Tom’s death. She hadn’t yet mentioned the police investigation and was reluctant to share her thoughts with her daughter. Savoring the tea gave her time to consider. Finally, she said, “I haven’t told him.”


Why not?” Starling looked surprised. “I thought you discussed everything with Dad.”

Edna sighed, realizing she couldn’t talk about what was bothering her if she hid part of it.
Time to ‘fess up,
she thought.


Mo-om,” Starling wailed her impatience.


I haven’t said anything to him because I think, at the moment anyway, the police suspect
me
of poisoning Tom.”


What?” Starling sat bolt upright, sloshing some of the tea into her saucer. “You can’t be serious.”

Now that she had opened the floodgates, the tight control Edna had kept over her emotions was gone, and a lump bulged in her throat. She coughed it down, not wanting to distress Starling more. “They’re still investigating, but they took samples of my tea mixes and some trash bags filled with clippings from the yew trees in front of the house.”


Why does that make you think they suspect you? Wouldn’t that be some sort of procedure they follow?”


It’s more of a feeling than anything they said about my being a suspect. You had to have been there.” Edna hesitated, trying to think of how to explain. “I don’t believe they think I did it on purpose, only that I was careless in choosing my ingredients.”


When are you going to tell Dad? You’ve got to tell him sometime. Doesn’t he get home tomorrow?”


No, not until Wednesday. He’s changed his plans and is flying to Denver to visit Grant for a few days.”


I thought you two were going out there for Thanksgiving?”


We are, but he was invited to tour a children’s clinic. He said Dr. Isaacs wouldn’t be around during the holidays, so he had to go this week.”


Dr. Isaacs?” Starling set her cup on the coffee table and leaned back against the pillows again. “Phyllis Isaacs?” A broad smile lit up her face. “Wow. Dad’s hanging with pretty cool company. Have you met her?”


Her? I thought Dr. Isaacs was a he. I thought his name was Phil.”


The Dr. Isaacs I know, the one who runs a children’s clinic in Denver, is named Phyllis. Maybe her friends call her Phil. All I know is Jillybean’s pediatrician works with her.”

Edna couldn’t help smiling at the family’s pet name for her young granddaughter Jillian. Grant’s eight-year-old was a bouncy, energetic child, and Edna thought of a Mexican jumping bean every time she heard the nickname.

Starling and Grant were the closest of Edna’s four children, in friendship as well as in age. Mathew had been twelve, Diane eight, and Grant fourteen months when Starling was born. It had been like having a second family when the last two came along.

Five years ago, Grant’s work took him to Denver, and at first Starling seemed lost without her brother and best friend. Now she flew to Colorado at least twice a year to vacation and visit. She had even attended Grant’s second wedding ceremony, a fact that still irked Edna, since she and Albert had heard about the marriage only afterwards.

Edna realized these wandering thoughts were her way of warding off her unease at Starling’s revelation. Phyllis Isaacs, not Phil. Had Albert purposely misled her?
Why would he do that? Does he have something to hide?
She didn’t want to think about it right now and switched the conversation back to Starling’s earlier question. “I don’t know when, or what, I’m going to tell your father. First, I need to find out where Tom went and who else he saw that day.”


Isn’t that what the police are doing?”


Not if they think they’ve already got a reasonable explanation. Just in case, I want to find out for myself.”


It sounds like you think he was poisoned on purpose.”


Well …” Hesitating, Edna realized the idea had been growing in the back of her mind. “Nobody has come forward to say they’d been with him. If they have nothing to hide, why not come forward?”


So, you do think it was deliberate?” Starling’s eyes grew wide.


Yes, I believe I do,” Edna said as the thought gelled.
What else made sense?

Starling frowned as she nibbled her lower lip. “Maybe we can try to work it out.” “Saaay …” A quick smile brightened her face. “Remember the game you used to play with Grant and me? You’d begin by saying ‘I’m thinking of something,‘ and you’d give us a word that applied to an object we could all see from where we were sitting. Grant and I would try to guess what it was by asking questions, like ‘Is it bigger than a breadbox?’.”

Edna laughed. “Yes, and I remember how mad you both got the day we were playing outside, and I said ‘I’m thinking of something blue.’ Both of you gave up on that one.”

Starling flushed. “Well, you’ve got to admit, picking the sky was pretty sneaky.”


What you’re getting at,” said Edna when their laughter died down, “is playing ‘I’m thinking of someone who committed murder,’ only neither of us knows the answer.”


Exactly. I guess it’s a stretch comparing this to our old childhood game, but we should be able to come up with a bunch of questions that might help you track down answers.”


We just might at that.” Edna was starting to feel some of Starling’s excitement. “Where shall we begin?”


I think we should start with motive. I read somewhere that murder is usually committed for one of three reasons—love, money or revenge.” Starling untangled her legs and rose from the couch as she spoke. “I think we need to write stuff down.” Disappearing into the kitchen, she returned with a small stack of three-by-five index cards and two pencils.

Edna accepted several cards and a pencil, throwing herself into the game. “We should make a separate card for each idea or person.”


Good thinking. You do one for love and another for money. I’ll take revenge.”

As Starling bent over the task, her hair glowed almost red in the light from the lamp behind her. Looking up, her eyes flashing with excitement, she flipped a strand of the auburn mane behind an ear. “Okay. We should make some people cards, maybe start with who saw him that day—I mean, besides you, of course.”


Well,” Edna thought for a moment “he had his grandson Danny with him.” She felt her face heat up, thinking of her humiliating visit to Nancy’s home. “I’ve tried to see the boy, but his mother won’t let me near him. She thinks, as the police seem to, that I’m to blame.”


I can’t believe anyone would think of you like that.” Starling stared at her intently for a few heartbeats before tapping her pencil against a blank card. “We need to list witnesses, too, so we don’t leave anything or anyone out.” She scribbled a name and placed the card on the cushion between them. “That’s the witness pile with a card for Danny. What about places? Where would Tom have gone after he left your place?”


He mentioned going somewhere at the shore, but I had the impression that would have been later in the day. It was almost lunchtime when he left, so he probably took Danny to McDonald’s.” Edna smiled. “Tom told me once that his grandson always insisted on McDonald’s for lunch.”


He probably wasn’t poisoned in a public place. Others would have contracted the same symptoms, and the news would have been all over town. Still, I’ll make a card for McDonald’s and that other place. What was the name?”


I don’t remember . . . some kind of fish, I think.”

Starling waited for Edna to remember, then grew impatient. “It doesn’t matter. You can fill in the name later. I’ll just put ‘shore place’ for now. When you get home, take a drive down to the beach. Maybe a shop sign will jog your memory, and you can go in and find out if Tom and Danny were there and whether someone was with them.”


I bet Norm knows where Tom was on Thursday.”


Who’s Norm?”

Edna explained Tom’s employer to Starling and told her how he had accused her of being in cahoots with his cousin to steal from Honeydew Home Repairs. “I’d bet anything he knows where Tom went that day,” she said again, finishing her story. “He’s making me look guilty by saying Tom was scheduled to work all day at our place. He knows darn well it isn’t true.”


Do you think he’s covering up something?”


Maybe.” Edna thought for a minute while her anger cooled. “I can’t believe he’d gain anything by killing his best worker.” She shook her head. “Maybe he just wants to bill us for eight hours instead of one. I think he’s lying for the money.”


Well, just in case, I think we should put him at the top of our suspect list. Why don’t you make out a card and note on it something like ‘knows where Tom was.’ Maybe mark it with a question. He sounds fishy to me.”

Edna began to realize that all these cards were creating quite a lot of work for her when she got home, but the game was helping her organize her thoughts. As she finished filling out the card for Norm, Starling said, “Do you know anyone who might have had a grudge against him? You know, the revenge angle.”

Edna considered the idea. “It’s a terrible thing to imagine, but I suppose his son-in-law, Walt Alcott, might have hated him enough to want him dead. According to what Tom told me, Walt blamed him for breaking up his marriage and talking Nancy into moving back home with Danny.”


Is it true?”


No. I think Tom was smarter than that. If he did want Nancy to leave Walt, he’d have kept it to himself. The fastest way to send her back to her husband would have been to try talking her into leaving him. Besides, Tom knew better than to interfere in his daughter’s life. I think he was genuinely bewildered that his son-in-law didn’t like him.”

BOOK: Murder by Yew
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