Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) (3 page)

“You’re a wind bag!” Meme shouted from my table.

“I’ve had enough of great walls, and flowers and winds and pungs, and chows. I want cake,” Sam said, pushing back her chair and bumping into Penelope behind her. “Sorry, Penny.”

“It’s Penelope,” Penelope Radamaker said, turning to face Sam and then turning back to her table. “I’ve never played this version of mahjong, Alex. Wherever did you learn it and where did you get those picture books?”

We played a version of mahjong I picked up from an old college friend. It had been started by a group of military wives many years ago so wherever their husbands got stationed around the world, they would be sure to find other military wives playing the same version. When I decided to invite everyone to my home I promptly went through the boxes in the garage I still hadn’t unpacked when I moved in after our honeymoon. I found the play books I bought many years before. They had over a hundred different hands you could try to build showing pictures of what tiles you needed to get. I thought it made the game much easier, especially for beginners.

“It’s just a version I learned in college. I like having all the different hand options.”

“Well, it is challenging,” Penelope said.

Mary-Beth stood up and stretched. “I think I’m ready for a break as well.

Sam, Mary-Beth and I went into the dining room for a piece of cake and something to drink. Connie excused herself to use the bathroom and my mom went into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee.

With cake in hand, Sam and I went into the kitchen to help my mother. “Well, it’s not going quite the way I had in mind, but at least no one is killing each other,” I said, as I filled up the teapot and placed it on the stove.

“This is a fun party, honey,” Meme said, as she came into the kitchen with Theresa and Francis. Three white-haired ladies. My grandmother was the shortest and roundest of the three. Theresa was as thin as Meme was round and Frances was the more refined with her Scottish accent and delicate way of doing things. She had been so lonely when her friend died at the factory, but now she seemed like a totally different person. Meme had a way of bringing people out of their shell. Frances spent more and more time with Meme and her gang as my mom referred to Meme’s friends.

I sighed. “I guess so. There’s still tension in the air, but everyone seems to be having a good time,” I said.

“Well, Penelope is certainly having a good time,” my mom said from where she stood at my kitchen counter, methodically folding and creasing the large paper bags the desserts came in. She was the quintessential recycler and those bags would end up in some craft project or wrapped around my next birthday gift. “She’s been telling us all about the time she spent in Europe. Such an interesting life. I think Liz is still a bit embarrassed about what happened with Mia, but Jean is coming out of her shell. That’s exactly what I hoped for.”

Besides keeping the earth a bit greener my mom was also a do-gooder, always looking to lend a hand to someone in need. The coffee pot gave a last gurgle and Mom poured the brew into a thermos container she would set out on the dining room table.

“What the heck hell! Who turned off the lights?” Sam said, as the kitchen suddenly went dark.

I walked to the window and looked out. “It’s all over. The street lights are out and so are the lights in my neighbor’s house. Damn. Just what I need.”

“Do you have a flashlight?” Mom asked. “At least the coffee is done and the stove is gas. Where do you keep your candles?”

“There’s a flashlight in the drawer to the right of the stove and I have some candles in the closet there,” I said pointing to the pantry though no one could see me. “Oh, and there’s a big one on the mantle in the living room.”

“What’s going on?”

“Dorothy? Is that you,” Mom asked into the darkness. “Hold on. I think I’ve got the flashlight. There!” A strong beam illuminated the kitchen. “Perfect. Sam, you take this pot out to the dining room and Dorothy, here take this pot of tea. Let me see if I can find some matches.”

Mom took a box of matches into the dining room and I followed with a bag of candles. “I’ve only got three big ones, a bunch of votives and a lot of these little ones for keeping food warm. We can put them in these little bowls and they should be fine.”

Everyone gathered in the dining room.

“This is fun,” Millie said, always cheerful. It was the main reason we hired her for our agency and as a bonus we found she had a ton of skills.

“All we need are marshmallows and a fire,” Judith said, showing once again where Millie got her sunny outlook.

“A fire. What a great idea. And there’s already wood in the fireplace.” My dining room and living area where connected and I made my way into the still darkened living room and over to the fireplace. “I’m afraid though, I’m all out of marshmallows but I can make hot chocolate.”

“I think that about does it for mahjong, ladies. Even with candle light, I think those tiles will be hard to see,” Liz said.

Dorothy poured herself a cup of coffee and walked around the table to the carrot cake. “Has anyone seen the knife for the cake?”

“It should be there,” Mom said. “Let me go get another one.”

“I used the pie cutter to slice my piece,” Sam offered.

Dorothy continued talking while she waited for a knife. “This is cozy. We probably best stay in here by the fire and the food. If the power stays off too long, it’s going to get cold.”

“That’s right,” I said from the direction of the fireplace. “I forgot the furnace has been on all night.” I moved over to the large glass door leading onto the back patio. “That wind is something fierce. I’ll bet a tree fell onto a power line or something.”

A gust of wind swept through the house blowing out the two large candles on the dining room table. “Damn. The window upstairs must have blown open again. And I guess I forgot to close the door.” I took the flashlight from my mother, who just returned with a new knife, and sprinted up the stairs only to return a few minutes later. “What a mess. Thank goodness we plan on replacing the old carpet up there. It’s all wet and there are leaves and even a small branch on the floor. I knew that tree outside was too close to the house. John will just have to cut a few of the branches when he gets back. And fix the window.”

“Alex, you had better put some towels down before the water seeps through the ceiling.”

“Thanks, Mom, I did. I think we had better all stay in here. There’s plenty of food and drink and with the fire, it should stay warm. Is everyone here?”

“I think so,” Sam said, from her position on the sofa, cake in hand. My sister always seemed to be eating.

“No, wait,” Mom interrupted, “there’s someone missing. Ladies, ladies,” she shouted. “Come in here and get warm!” she called to the stragglers who were milling about in the doorway.

“Where’s Penelope?” Dorothy asked.

“We thought she came in here,” Mia offered. “Can’t see a thing in the library.”

“Penelope! Come join us,” Mom shouted again, her voice managing to match her height. “Where on earth did she get to? Alex, give me the flashlight, please.”

I passed the flashlight to my mother. Sam put her cake plate down and followed my mom. We all marched behind them into the library. “Penelope? This isn’t funny. Where are you?” Mom said.

“Mom,” Sam managed to squeak out as she rested her shaky hand on my mother’s shoulder.

My mother frantically waved the flashlight around the room until it settled on Penelope Radamaker. Penelope’s head had fallen over and crushed the Great Wall and her breasts were resting on her rack of tiles, but the thing that got everyone’s attention was the cake knife sticking out of her back.

Mom screamed and dropped the flashlight plunging us all into darkness again. Meme pushed her sizable way past the others and stood next to Mom. She bent down and took the flashlight in her hand and shone it on the table. Meme gasped and clutched her heart sending a beam of light toward the ceiling.

“Good God!” I exclaimed reaching on tiptoe to see over Mom’s head. “Someone call the ambulance. And the police. Quick!” I shouted to no one in particular. “Never mind. I know where the phone is.” I pushed my way through the mass of women who had pressed close to get a glimpse of what was going on in the library. A minute later, I returned. “Well, that’s just great. The phone’s dead and I can’t find my cell.”

Everyone turned collectively like wildebeests retreating from an advancing lion. In a matter of seconds ten women had pulled cell phones from purses and were frantically dialing.

“Ladies! Don’t everyone call 911 at once, we won’t get through,” my mother shouted.

“Here, Alex, use mine.” My sister handed me her state-of-the-art smart phone. It looked like it could do everything including launching a space shuttle.

“Geesh. Doesn’t anyone have a normal phone anymore?”

“Here, honey, use mine.”

I took the phone from my grandmother, who happened to have the same old model cell I did, and dialed 911.

As I waited for the call to be connected my mom started to walk back to the library and over to Penelope. I covered the phone with my hand. “Mom. I don’t think we should be in there.” I walked past her and pulled the door closed.

“Oh. Yes. Absolutely. Everyone stay out, please,” Mom managed to say. She looked like she was in shock and I gently guided her to the sofa. “Sam, get her some coffee.”

“Hello! Hello! My name is Alex Van der Burg and there’s a dead body in my library. No. This is not a crank call. Please, send someone quickly. How do I know the person is dead?” I asked looking into the phone. “My cake knife sticking out of her back was my first clue. Listen, I live on Oak Crest Road. Number two-four-two. But Mildred’s Creek Bridge is out so you’ll have to come the long way around by way of the Saw Mill Road.”

I listened to the voice on the other end for a minute. “Well, of course she’s dead. No, no one checked for a pulse. Well, I suppose I can do that.” I took the phone away from my ear and looked at my sister. “They want to know if there’s a pulse.”

“And you’re looking at me because…?”

Millie stood up. “I’ll do it, Alex. I’m dating an undertaker.”

“I think he’d prefer to be called a mortician, dear,” Mrs. Chapman said to her daughter.

“What does that have to do with anything?” my sister asked Millie.

Millie looked dejected. “Well, I guess nothing actually.” She sat back down.

“I can do it,” Meme piped up. “I’ve seen a lot of dead people in my day. That’s what happens when you get old. Everyone starts dying.”

“Yes, we’re checking,” I said into the phone to the impatient voice on the other end.

“I’ll do it.” Liz Throckmorton stood up before Meme could get moving. “I’m a nurse after all.”

“You killed my father! You killed my father!” Mia shouted from her position by the fire. Liz promptly took her seat again.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Would someone go see if Penny is really dead,” I almost screamed.

“Penelope,” my sister said under my murderous gaze. “I’m just saying. She liked to be called Penelope. It’s the least we can do under the circumstances.”

“Well, I guess I’m just going to have to check,” Mom said, coming around from her state of shock, though not moving very fast.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Dorothy said pushing her way toward me. I’ll check. I used to volunteer at the hospital.”

“
Reading
to the blind, Dorothy. Mom gushed. “Have you ever checked for a pulse before?”

“Well, no. But I used to check my daughter to see if she had a fever. The little pain had a habit of putting the thermometer to the light bulb. Heated it so much one time, the mercury flew right out of the darned thing.”

“Dorothy! Mother! Would someone
please
go and check for a pulse.” I pleaded, my voice becoming a high-pitched whine.

“I’ll do it,” Liz Throckmorton said again. Mia opened her mouth presumably to start shouting once more when she saw my face and promptly clamped her lips together.

Liz walked into the den with the flashlight. She reached under Penelope’s hair and felt for a pulse. “Nothing. And she’s cold.”

“Aren’t we all,” Connie said. “Sorry, Alex.”

“It’s okay. The fire is really starting up now. It should be warmer soon.” I put the phone back to my ear. “Yes, she’s dead. Will you come now? What do you mean it may take a while? You listen here, she’s probably bleeding all over my rug.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw my sister lean toward my mom and say something. “What are you whispering over there?” I shouted, scaring myself slightly.

“I said you must be hysterical. You
hate
that rug.”

My sister was right. I could feel myself losing it big time. Yes, I found a body once before, and murder, unfortunately, was not new to me, but this was my house. And there was a dead body in it.

“Yes. Fine. But please come as soon as you can.” I closed the phone disconnecting it.

“Well? What did they say?” Sam asked.

“They said they’re on their way but the roads are bad, power is out. And they’re pretty backed up with heart attacks and a man who fell down the stairs in the dark. Things are a mess out there.”

“Out there?” my sister said.

I ignored her and picked up the phone again. “I’m calling John’s office. Maybe they can do something.” I dialed the direct line to the police station I use for when I call John. I was put on hold before I could even get a word out. “Hello! Please don’t put me on hold again. This is Alex Van der Burg. John’s wife. What? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Yes, it’s been about three months since the wedding. Well, we’re getting settled nicely. Listen, “I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a bit of a problem out here. What? Oh, yes, right. We do live by Mildred’s Creek. But that’s not the problem. Well, it’s not the only one. You see, I, um, I have a dead body in my library. Yes, I said a dead body. Well, of course I know who it is. It’s my library, isn’t it? I am calm! I just want someone to come and take it away. How did they die? A knife in the back is my best guess. Well, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it was a murder. I just assumed…what’s that supposed to mean, you should have known it was murder if I was involved? I’ll have you know all those other bodies had
nothing
whatsoever to do with me. Is that giggling? Do I hear giggling there?”