Major Vices (24 page)

Zoe's eyes, which looked amber in the lamplight, grew very wide. “But I don't know. They didn't tell me.”

“Maybe we'd better find out,” Judith said briskly. “We'll borrow that Cadillac after all and go use a pay phone.”

Zoe shrugged. “Go ahead. The keys are in the garage. You can't miss them—they've got the Cadillac emblem. I'm going downstairs to bed. I'm beat.”

Judith frowned. Something was wrong. She remained seated on the sofa, with a puzzled Renie at her side. “Zoe, wait. I've got a question for you. It's really important.”

But Zoe wasn't about to wait. Her languid air had long ago deserted her. She struggled to her feet in an almost clumsy manner. “
Please
. Don't harass me. I've had all I can take.”

Judith also stood up. “Hold on, Zoe, this is absolutely essential.”

Zoe's eyes glinted oddly. “You mustn't try to stop me.” Doggedly, she headed for the entry hall.

“What are your parents' first names?” Judith's question cut like a cleaver.

Zoe not only didn't turn around, but kept on going.
“Dad's real first name is Clark,” she called out in a toneless voice. “‘Weed' is just a nickname.”

Judith and Renie exchanged quick glances. “And your mother?” Judith shouted.

But Zoe had disappeared into the dining room.

“Now what do we do?” Judith asked anxiously.

Renie was also on her feet, gazing through the window next to the fireplace. “Go home?” She gestured toward the street.

The AAA tow truck had just pulled up at the curb.

 

It took less than five minutes to start Judith's blue compact. As the engine hummed, Judith waved her thanks to the AAA emergency crew and put the car into reverse. Moments later, the cousins were going down the steep hill that had held them prisoner at Major Manor. Near the bottom, they saw the damaged lamppost, bent at a forty-five-degree angle.

“You think Zoe did it?” Renie finally asked as they drove through The Bluff's tasteful shopping area.

At the four-way stop, Judith looked ruefully at Renie. “Everything points that way.” Abruptly, she pulled into the parking lot of a large drugstore. “There's a pay phone. I'm calling the cops.”

Renie dutifully waited in the car. Judith was inside the phone booth for almost five minutes. When she emerged, her face was grim.

“Well?” said Renie.

“They put me through to Buck Doerflinger. Damn all.” Judith turned the keys in the ignition, reversed out of the parking lot, and headed, not for Heraldsgate Hill, but back toward The Bluff.

“Now what?” demanded Renie.

“Joe's about to go off duty. I told Buck to have Detective Flynn meet me at Major Manor. It took some doing, but I convinced him I knew something more about the Mayor's cousin. Buck still doesn't realize I'm Mrs. Flynn.”

Renie gave Judith a sidelong look. “And are you?”

Judith snorted. “I said as much, before God and man. I'm stuck with the jerk, aren't I?”

“I guess.” Renie noticed that her cousin didn't seem unduly alarmed at the prospect.

 

Judith expected the worst. Guilt washed over her as she stood in the outside stairwell next to the back porch of Major Manor. No one responded to her loud knock on the basement door to the servants' quarters. She regarded Renie bleakly.

“We never should have left. Whatever Zoe intended to do, she must have done it.” Judith put a hand to her forehead and swore softly.

“The key ring,” Renie said suddenly. “Haven't you still got it?”

“Oh!” Judith felt in the pocket of her jacket. “How could I not have noticed!” She held up the collection of keys, then hurriedly tried to find the one that fit the basement door.

Judith called Zoe's name as they made their way down the narrow hall. The house seemed to echo. Except for the loden coat, the brass hooks were naked, mute testimony to the departure of the Wakefields. Even the marijuana odor had faded away. The basement smelled damp, and vaguely like a sheep.

Judith checked the rooms on the left side of the passageway; Renie looked into the ones on the right. Neither cousin showed much enthusiasm for the task.

They peeked into the furnace room and the coal bin, then moved on to the galley, where the stove was still pulled out from the wall. Next door, the guest bathroom was also empty. At last they reached the saloon. But Zoe wasn't there, either.

Judith uttered a sigh that was half relief, half frustration. “I don't get it,” she said under her breath, then sank down into one of the saloon's recessed alcoves. As before, the scent of pine hung on the air. “I had it all figured out—logically. Somehow, Zoe slipped out of the house while she was cleaning up from dinner. Probably she went through the door to the garage that goes from the hall.
Otherwise we'd have seen her go out via the back way, or down through the basement, or into the garage by the door from the kitchen. She shot Boo and then raced back inside. But everything backfired on her. Weed was suspected of killing Boo, and while Zoe may be a killer, she's obviously very fond of her father. More so, I'd guess, than she is of her mother. Weed's ideals have made a deep impression on the girl.”

Renie was gazing up through one of the small windows which looked out onto a concrete wall. The leaded panes offered light, but no view. Like the rest of the basement, the saloon was set deep in the ground.

“I'm not following you,” Renie admitted. “Weed's ideals are typical of his age and era. His type isn't much interested in money, only in the equal distribution of it.”

Judith gave an abrupt jerk of her head. “I know, I know. That's why I figured Zoe was overcome with remorse. Not only had she betrayed her father's principles, she'd gotten him arrested. Gruesome as it sounds, I expected to find her dangling from a rope or succumbing to an overdose of sleeping pills. But she's gone.”

“We haven't looked upstairs,” Renie pointed out with a grimace.

“True,” Judith agreed, getting up. “Let's search the rest of the house. I don't think we'll find her, though. Zoe would do herself in down here, where she lived. Maybe,” she added without much spirit, “we should check the garage, too.”

The cousins headed for the basement stairs. Judith suddenly stopped, staring at the loden coat. She felt the fabric, then sniffed.

“This thing's damp. It also smells like a sheep.” Judith clapped a hand to her head. “Oh, my God! I've been an idiot!”

“At times,” Renie replied in a calm voice, though her eyes narrowed at Judith. “Now what?”

Judith was already running up the stairs. “The garage! I'll bet the grocery money that Zoe's gone!”

The Ford certainly was. The Rolls and the Cadillac
stood side by side, looking smug, like two beauties at a party who've finally managed to ditch the Ugly Duckling.

“Okay,” said Renie, “now give me your revised edition of this sorry story.”

“It's simple,” Judith responded eagerly. “All along, I've tried to equate the kind of murder with the murderer's personality. This was carefully planned, though there was a surprise element, namely the—”

Outside, a horn honked impatiently. Judith and Renie hurried to the garage doors. “It must be Joe,” Judith said, trying to figure out how to open the doors from the inside. “Shoot, I wonder what trips the automatic locks.”

The horn sounded again. Unable to find the mechanism that opened the doors, the cousins hurried through the garage, into the kitchen, and out the back door. Judith expected to see Joe's battered but beloved MG at the curb, but instead, they found a big blue Chevrolet.

“Bill!” Renie shouted. She waved in a frantic gesture, started across the lawn, then stopped. “Coz! What shall I do? It's nearly six o'clock! Bill must be hungry!”

“Then feed him.” Judith shrugged, well aware of the ulcer-prone Bill Jones's need to eat promptly. “Joe will be along any minute.” In the gathering darkness, she, too, waved at Bill. He saluted stiffly.

Renie, however, was hesitating. “I don't know…maybe we should wait until Joe gets here.”

Judith was adamant. “Get going. Nobody's here but me. If it makes you feel any better, I'll go sit in my car.”

“Do that,” urged Renie as Bill gave one long toot of the horn. “And call me. I can't wait to hear the rest of the story.” She jumped into the Chevy, barely getting the door closed before Bill tromped on the gas.

Judith started for her Stanza, then realized she still had the key ring in her pocket. Going around to the back porch, she let herself in.
Maybe I should leave a couple of lights on
, she thought. Moving to the entry hall, Judith switched on the ship's lantern over the front porch. She decided to keep the chandelier in the living room burning, too.

On her way out, she placed the key ring on the peg by
the back door. From force of habit, she checked the stove to make sure it was off. A noise which seemed to come from the entry hall made her pause with her hand on the kitchen light switch. Someone must have entered the house through the front door.

Judith knew she should leave at once. Her brain told her to take the two steps to the back porch, but her feet wouldn't obey. Whoever had come in wasn't necessarily the killer. Indeed, it flashed through Judith's mind that she had already been wrong once about the murderer's identity. Could she have made
two
mistakes? As if frozen to the spot, she craned her neck, to watch a furtive figure cross the entry hall.

“Trixie!” Judith gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Trixie seemed equally surprised. Her face was haggard and she carried a grocery bag in her left hand. “I…I forgot something. We left in such a hurry,” she added lamely. “Why are you still here? Where's Serena?”

“She's gone,” Judith replied, edging away from the back door. “Joe's coming. He should be here any minute.”

Trixie looked blank. “Joe? Joe who?”

“My husband,” Judith snapped. “You seem to have ignored our wedding invitation.”

“Oh. When was it?” Trixie's eyes were darting around the kitchen; the knuckles on the hand that clutched the grocery bag turned white.

“A year ago last June,” Judith answered, her mind racing along other, more frightening lines.

“June?” Trixie's eyes grew wide. “I think I got married around that time, too. Rafe, you know.”

Judith remembered that the Rafe Longrod nuptials had taken place the year before her own wedding, but she could hardly expect Trixie to keep track. “How did you get in?”

“Mother has a key to the front door.” Trixie saw Judith's curious reaction and hastened to explain: “In case something happened to Uncle Boo and one of us needed to rescue him. The Wakefields might be gone. You never know. But she only had the
house key
. I mean, why would she need anything else?”

“Why indeed,” Judith echoed. “So what did you forget?” she inquired in what she hoped was a casual tone.

Trixie frowned. “A bracelet? My mother's bracelet,” she said, suddenly smiling. “Yes, the silver charm bracelet. You know how much she likes it. I'll go hunt for it now.” Her smile widened, but it never went past her nose.

Trixie all but ran from the kitchen. Judith watched her go through the dining room and into the entry hall. But Trixie didn't head for the living room or upstairs. Instead, she turned into the passage which led to the garage. Judith's expression grew thoughtful.

She almost didn't hear the footsteps on the basement stairs. It was the husky voice that caused her to turn around. Unlike Trixie, Mrs. Wakefield didn't seem surprised to see Judith.

“What's up?” the housekeeper asked, running a comb through her graying red hair. Except for a few lines of fatigue on her face, the arduous day hadn't seemed to affect Mrs. Wakefield's spirits. “I noticed your car had been moved. I saw it parked on this side of the street when I pulled into the garage.”

Judith laughed lightly. “It's a long story. Where's Weed? Where's Zoe?”

Mrs. Wakefield was at the refrigerator. “Weed's in search of grass,” she replied in a disgruntled voice. “I tried to stop him, but it's never any use. Zoe knew where he'd be, so she came looking for him. That girl's wasting her time trying to change her dad. She told me to take the Ford and go home. I figured I might as well. They may be gone until tomorrow.”

“You're staying on?” asked Judith.

The housekeeper had taken a roll of turkey breast from the refrigerator. She used a sharp knife to cut paper-thin slices. “Nobody's fired us yet. We don't know who really owns this place, do we?” She gave Judith a sly smile. “This will, that will—I say it's not over yet.” Mrs. Wakefield chewed lustily on a piece of turkey.

“It's certainly not,” Judith replied evenly. She glanced through the kitchen window. It was now dark, and a pair of headlights had cruised up to the curb in front of the
house. Judith was sure she recognized Joe's MG. “In fact,” she went on, feeling a sense of relief as well as elation overcome her, “it's far from over. Isn't that right, Ruth?”

Mrs. Wakefield's reaction was delayed. She was complacently devouring another mouthful of turkey when her eyes narrowed. “Ruth? Where do you get off calling me Ruth?”

Judith shrugged. “It's your name, isn't it? After all we've been through in the past twenty-four hours, you don't mind if I call you that, do you? Go ahead, I'm Judith.”

The housekeeper's chunky hand tightened around the handle of the butcher knife. “Who told you my name was Ruth?”

Discreetly, Judith tried to determine if Joe was approaching Major Manor from the front or the back. He had parked halfway between the main entrance and the back porch. She hoped he would choose to come in through the kitchen. But, of course, he wasn't as familiar with the floor plan as she was.