The Outsmarting of Criminals: A Mystery Introducing Miss Felicity Prim (26 page)

Miss Prim consulted her watch. Dolly would be arriving in just a few short hours.

An idea struck her. The last time she’d visited Cambria & Calibri, she’d noticed the newest title by one of Dolly’s favorite writers. Dolly’d had a difficult week. What would make her happier than the latest Cecelia Ahern novel, purchased with the aid of the ten percent discount so generously granted by Valeska Reed? Miss Prim attached the leash to Bruno’s collar, locked up the cottage, and began her stroll to Cambria & Calibri, where Valeska welcomed her with open arms.

“What a night, Miss Prim. Martin was out until 5
am
looking for Lucian Koslowski. Quite a bit seems to happen in your basement, doesn’t it?”

Miss Prim agreed that yes, the basement of her tiny cottage saw more than its share of action. The two women chatted amiably as Miss Prim browsed through the shop’s newest offerings, feeling relieved that the Cecelia Ahern books were on the shelves reserved for acceptable, worthy books.

As Valeska rang up the purchase, she said, “I had a flash of insight last night, Miss Prim. Remember the retouched snapshot you showed me? The photo of the man in your basement, but without facial hair? I think I’ve made a connection.”

Miss Prim’s ears perked up. “Oh?”

“I told you I saw him looking in the window once or twice at closing time. Well, last night—or should I say, early this morning—when Martin got home, he showed me a recent photo of Lucian, the one they’d been showing around when they were out trying to find him. And it hit me. It was Lucian’s face I’d seen at the window.”

“T
his is extraordinary, Valeska. But how could you not have recognized Lucian when you saw him looking in the window?”

“Nobody really sees him, Miss Prim. Lorraine keeps him out of harm’s way in Ridgemont.
The way I understand it, the two of them used to be quite the gadabouts. But as Lucian has gone downhill, Lorraine has found it increasingly difficult to manage him in public. Apparently she’s concocted enough stories to keep him happily at home most of the time. Martin and I have lived in Greenfield only about two years. By the time we moved here, Lorraine had already confined Lucian to quarters, so even though I’ve heard that he ‘escapes’ from time to time, I’ve never met him. Until Martin showed me the photo last night, I hadn’t realized I’d encountered him face to face.

“And I need to thank
you
for that epiphany, Miss Prim,” Valeska continued. “I have spent too many years expecting Martin to volunteer information. When he didn’t, I got angry and thought he didn’t want to share his life with me. But men want us to show interest in their lives, don’t they? We do that by asking questions rather than waiting for them to start talking. That’s why Martin showed me Lucian’s photo—because I asked him to. It’s been a valuable lesson, Miss Prim, and one I won’t soon forget.”

“I’m so
delighted to hear this, Valeska. It looks as if Martin has been making healthy choices, too; I noticed him snacking on carrots at the police station. Of course, if he likes the low-cal treats I’ll be preparing on Sunday, I shall be happy to share the recipes with you.” Miss Prim paused for a moment. “Oh, Valeska, please do not think, though, that I am in any way trying to ingratiate myself with, or steal, your husband! I made the offer to prepare healthy snacks for him spontaneously, and I am sometimes too impetuous. I’m afraid Miss Lavelle has made me aware of that fact, and how interfering I can be. I really am not trying to mind everyone’s business. I just wish to have friends and relationships in Greenfield, and I may be trying too hard.” To her surprise, she felt a tear trickling down her right cheek.

“Now stop that right now, Miss Prim,” Valeska ordered. “Gladys Lavelle is a bitter, angry woman without a friend in the world. Even her lover, Ethan Prothero, doesn’t like her any more, and most of us are surprised he ever did. Don’t let her get to you. And don’t change, either. Greenfield quite likes you the way you are.”

“Valeska, thank you. You could not have said anything kinder. I shall see you and Martin on Sunday. Until then, I must consider why you thought the man in the photo looked so much like Lucian Koslowski.”

“There’s only one reason I can think of, Miss Prim. The man is
probably his son.”

“But Lorraine and Lucian have no children.”

“I didn’t say he was Lorraine’s son, Miss Prim. I said he was Lucian’s son. They’re not the same thing.”

*

As Miss Prim and Bruno arrived at Rose Cottage, Miss Prim noticed Bruno’s tail beginning to wag rapidly. When she unlocked the front door and placed her book purchase on the small table in the entryway, she understood why. On the floor was a slip of paper:

Hey Miss P,

Came to walk Bruno but you guys are gone.

Listen I have something pretty interesting to tell you.

I’ll tell you when I see you.

Stay cool

Kit

After wrapping Dolly’s gift, Miss Prim lay down for a brief nap. It had been a tiring night, so she felt no guilt about closing her eyes for a restorative siesta. When she opened them again, it was almost time to meet Dolly at the train station.

She grabbed her handbag and Dolly’s gift and jumped into her car, making excellent time as the Zap easily passed the distressingly sedate drivers of Connecticut. She arrived a few minutes early and went into the depot, where a new copper sign gleamed near the refreshment stand:

WELCOME TO TWO OAKS, CONNECTICUT

Birthplace of Junusakey Lemonade

After waving in greeting to Deb,
Miss Prim spent a few moments looking through the tourist brochures while she awaited the train’s arrival. A few minutes later she heard a whistle and walked to the platform. Dolly was the first passenger off the train.

The two friends flew into each other’s arms.

“Dolly!” Miss Prim exclaimed. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

“I’m so glad to be here, Miss Pri
m. Staying with Zoroastria is fun, but taxing on the nerves.”

And Dolly
did
look just a bit tired, Miss Prim reflected. But one need not
say
that.

“Come, Dolly, I cannot wait for you to see Rose Cottage.” She presented the wr
apped gift to her friend. “Here’s a little something to help you pass the time, dearest.”

“
I brought something for you, too, Miss Prim,” Dolly said, handing Miss Prim a paper sack with
Veneiro’s Pastry Shop
printed on it.

“Dolly, you didn’t!”

“I couldn’t resist, Miss Prim. And yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. Two bear claws. One chocolate for you, one vanilla for me.”

On the return trip to Greenfield, Dolly attempted to open her gift but seemed to have difficulty with the wrapping. Miss Prim apologized. “I’m sorry for the roughness of the ride
, Dolly. While the Zap is certainly fuel-efficient, I’m afraid its suspension sometimes makes for a tooth-rattling journey. You look a bit nauseated, dearest. Was the train journey that difficult? Do not worry. A cup of tea will settle your stomach nicely.”

Back at the cottage, Miss Prim introduced Dolly to Bruno
—the two took to each other instantly—and then showed Dolly to the guest room. As Dolly unpacked, Miss Prim put the teakettle on the stove to boil and placed each bear claw onto a pastry dish. She couldn’t blame Bruno for drooling, as she was practically doing the same. But the dog’s training must not be allowed to lapse, so Miss Prim distracted Bruno by throwing his bone, ringing the bell, and then providing him with a small treat when the drooling stopped.

Dolly watched Miss Prim from the doorway. “Miss Prim, what was
that
all about?”

Miss Prim explained that she was attempting to use Pavlov’s method in reverse to train Bruno,
reporting on her animal companion’s excellent progress to date. Dolly complimented Miss Prim on her mastery of psychology’s main precepts, and the two sat down to enjoy their tea and pastries.

“Oh, but I’m forgetting Mrs. Mallowan’s,” Miss Prim said, rising from the table to retrieve the lemon sugar.

“That reminds me, Miss Prim. I brought you a new brand that I found at Zabar’s. It claims to have not only lemon but also undernotes of lime and peach. Let’s try it instead of the same old lemon sugar.”

Miss Prim bit her lip. Could Mrs. Mallowan’s Lemon Sugar really be improved on? Why add those additional flavors when lemon served quite nicely
on its own? But she did not wish to appear closed-minded, and when Dolly returned from her room with a box of Miss Meredith’s Blended Sugar, Miss Prim eagerly opened the box and removed two packets. She tried handing one to Dolly, who said she’d prefer to drink her tea “straight,” so Miss Prim ripped the packet open and poured it into her own tea.

Miss Prim
sipped tentatively. Hmmm. Not quite the same as the tart lemon she so loved, but the peach did add an interesting sweet note to the somewhat mellower lemon of Miss Meredith’s recipe, and the lime kicked in after she swallowed the first sip. The taste was not unpleasant at all, and Miss Prim decided Miss Meredith’s product would have a permanent place in her cupboard. It would never substitute for Mrs. Mallowan’s, but it would make for a lovely alternative when one felt the need for novelty.

Miss Prim
gingerly broached the subject of Benjamin.

“Tell me, Dolly, has there been any
word from, or about, Benjamin?”

“
Nothing at all, Miss Prim. I’m starting to think he’s in deep trouble. I want to help him if I can, but I’m also afraid to get involved.”

“The key thing is to
proceed cautiously, Dolly. And to rest while you are here.”

Fortunately,
relaxation was easy for the two friends. Within an hour of drinking their tea, both declared themselves exhausted. They agreed to turn in early, with the goal of sleeping in and then taking Bruno for a morning walk. As Miss Prim fell asleep, she thought she heard Dolly talking on the phone—perhaps to Zoroastria or Viveca?
The young
, she thought,
so dependent on the telephone
; and promptly lost consciousness.

The next morning she rose feeling rested and refreshed. As always, Bruno seemed to know when she opened her eyes, and he was quickly on his feet, waiting for her to get out of bed and start her day. Walking past the guest room, she saw that the door was still closed, so she tiptoed around
the cottage so as not to wake her slumbering friend. When Dolly had not risen by 10
am
, Miss Prim let Bruno into the yard, promising to take him for a good, long walk later.

By 10:15, Miss Prim thought she might
just check on Dolly. She knocked on the door and received no response. She then turned the handle gently and caught her breath when she saw that the bed had not been slept in.

Revelation

Do not panic
, Miss Prim commanded herself. But, even as her mind turned over the possibilities—Dolly had returned to New York due to some unexpected emergency, Dolly had gone out for a walk—her logical side refuted each explanation. Dolly would not leave without telling her. And if she’d chosen to return to Manhattan, why would she have left her weekend bag in the guest room?

But
wouldn’t Bruno have alerted her if something dangerous had been afoot? She’d slept quite soundly, but she would have heard Bruno’s growls if he’d sensed danger.

W
hat was her next course of action? Call Detective Dawes and report a missing person? She knew he’d say what detectives in crime fiction (and in reality) always say to concerned friends and relatives: “A person must be missing 48 hours before we can do anything.” She had to tread lightly. Detective Dawes had listened sympathetically when she’d recounted the mysterious events that had befallen her since her arrival in Greenfield. If she called the police every time something out of the ordinary occurred, would the Greenfield PD begin to see her as a silly, easily spooked woman with paranoid delusions who was on her way to becoming the town nuisance? No, that would not do. She was not a silly-goose character in a poorly plotted novel, and she did not want to be treated as such.

Her first step, then,
was to conduct a thorough search of the cottage and the grounds. But she could not find Dolly in the basement, in the attic, in the barn at the rear of her yard, or anywhere else on the property.

She must calm her nerves, she simply must. She put the kettle on and brewed a cup of chamomile. But which should she choose, the multiple flavors of Miss
Meredith’s Blended Sugar or the comfort of Mrs. Mallowan’s Lemon Sugar? The decision was made for her because she could not remember where she had placed the box of Miss Meredith’s recipe. She would have sworn she’d left it on the top shelf of the cupboard, but it was nowhere to be found.

As she sat on the couch to sip her tea, she
noticed something from the corner of her eye. There, next to the telephone, was a small rectangular business card. Miss Prim recognized it instantly.

OLIVIA ABERNATHY

Abernathy
Realty

Greenfield’s Premier Realtor

You know you want to live here.

860-555-CHARM

[email protected]

Miss Prim remembered hearing Dolly’s whispers the night before. She’d assumed Dolly was chatting with Zoroastria or another friend. Why on earth would Dolly have been talking with Olivia Abernathy? There was only one way to find out.

Miss Prim returned to her be
droom to grab her handbag. It was not on the settee, where she’d left it; nor was it in any of the closets or anywhere else in the cottage.

Taking a deep breath,
Miss Prim opened the drawer of her nightstand, fully expecting the Laser Taser 3000 to have gone missing along with Dolly and the handbag. But there it was, in all its electrical, protective glory. She grabbed it, stuffed it into a spare handbag, and then retrieved a spare set of car and cottage keys from her jewelry box. She noted that none of her jewelry was missing, but she wouldn’t have cared if it was. Dolly was much more important than baubles, bangles, and beads. She returned to her closet, retrieved the small photo album in which she kept her favorite snapshots, and thrust the album into her handbag.

Bruno must have sensed her worries. He followed closely on her heels, as if not want
ing to let her out of his sight. She tried patting his head to reassure him, but he did not seem mollified.

She threw the front door open to find Kit standing on her doorstep, his finger on her doorbell. He jumped back.

“Miss P! What’s up? You don’t look so good.”

“Oh, Kit, it’s a long story. I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat. I know Bruno will be happy for your company while I’m gone.”

“Is everything all right?”

At first Miss Prim thought that she should not draw Kit into her problems, but a lifetime of reading mystery fiction had taught her that teenagers often know more than they let on. So she decided to take Kit into her confidence.

“Kit, I think you know that my friend Dolly is visiting …”

“That tall lady you picked up at the train station yesterday? The one you think me and Faye will like?”

“That’s her, Kit. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her anywhere?”

“No, sorry. Is she missing?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Kit. I’m sorry, I must be on my way …”

“Miss P, before you go, I need to talk to you about something.”

Miss Prim looked at her watch helplessly. “Kit, can it possibly wait? My mission is really most urgent.”

“But this might have something to do with your friend being gone. I’ve been trying to tell you for a couple of days
, but I haven’t seen you.”

“
All right, Kit. If you think it’s important, let’s talk now.”

Out of sheer habit
—she simply could not invite someone into her home without providing a beverage and a snack—Miss Prim poured Kit a glass of iced tea and buttered a slice of cinnamon-raisin bread for him.

Kit tucked into the bread like a hyena into a fallen zebra. “The other day, when the detective was here. You guys were talking and I went around back to
say goodbye to Bruno. I guess I sorta heard what you guys were talking about.” Miss Prim looked at Kit fondly, admiring his ability to admit to eavesdropping without using that word. “Detective Dawes said something about a locked-room mystery, how you two couldn’t figure out how that dead guy got into your basement. I thought that was pretty cool. Not that the guy was dead but that nobody could figure out how he got there. So I started wondering about a few things. So I went to see Gil Fellowes …”

Miss Prim listened closely as Kit finished his story. Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place: her visit with Mrs. Saxe-Coburg, Lorraine’s half
-truths, Lucian’s disappearance and mysterious reappearance.

As she climbed
into the Zap, Miss Prim thought,
I believe I have just cracked my first case
. Perhaps arrogant detectives, such as Hercule Poirot, took their epiphanies for granted; but for her, the sensation was entirely new, and she found it most agreeable.

*

It was Saturday afternoon, and Greenfield Town Square was filled with weekenders walking through the streets, snapping photographs, and visiting the shops. Abernathy Realty was located on the square’s north side.

Olivia
emerged from her glassed-in office to greet Miss Prim. “Miss Prim, what brings you here? Looking to trade up already? I don’t blame you, not one bit. You have been bitten by what I call the ‘Greenfield bug.’ It happens to everyone, sooner or later.”