A Little Learning (13 page)

“Whatever it is you want, they’re the ones to call,” she said. “I’m not certain which one’s more useless, the mother or the son.”

A woman also answered the second number, but her voice was weary and not quite coherent. “What?”

“I’d like to speak to Bobby Berkley, please.”

“What’s the little jerk done now?”

Not a very good beginning. “Are you his mother?”

“Wish to God I wasn’t.”

“Would you happen to know where he is?”

“Of course I know where he is. He’s at PR where he belongs. Who is this?”

“I’m Madeline Maclin. I’m investigating a robbery at the book store. What’s PR?” Somehow I doubted she meant Public Relations.

“Parkland Reform School. Going to be there until Christmas.” She belched and hung up.

With such a charming home life, Bobby was probably happy to be sent away. I called Chief Brenner, and he confirmed the information.

“If he was in town, he’d be our prime suspect,” he said, “but his mother’s right. He’s serving time.”

“No other leads?” I asked.

“No.”

I drove home. On the way, I wondered if I had any sort of case. But I had answers to two questions. Rusty was another Ronald, Ronald McIntire, and Ronald Brown was the only person in town who had liked Amelia Lever.

Although I couldn’t rule out Nathan. Not yet.

***

As I walked up the porch steps, I heard Jerry at the piano playing “Noel,” and I paused at the door of our parlor, which doubled as a séance room and a music room, to listen. I could tell Jerry was adding his own spin to the familiar carol. At one point, he added a little blues riff and finished with a calypso beat.

I applauded. “The church will love it.”

He turned on the bench and grinned. “I call it ‘Multicultural Noel, A Carol For the New Age.’”

“Any luck with the cards?”

“Not yet.”

I took Nathan’s packs out of my pocketbook. “Well, guess what? Nathan received some packs in the mail. Same resealed seals.”

“Okay, now I know we’re on to something.”

I took out my phone. “I’m giving Aaron a call. Maybe he got some packs, too.”

While Jerry spread the cards out on his séance table, I found Aaron’s number in my pocketbook. Once again, I got his secretary, who said she’d have Aaron call me at his earliest convenience. I thanked her and closed my phone. “Find anything?” I asked Jerry.

He shook his head. “I can’t see anything unusual about these.”

“How about compared with Amelia’s?”

“Just your standard packs with a few good cards thrown in. Nothing special.”

I pointed to one card. “What about this king card? Austin mentioned that.”

“Well, it’s a good card, but it’s no Tongue of Death.”

I took a closer look at the king card. The Bufo card showed Bufo as King of the Toads, complete with robe, crown, and scepter. He had a very smug look on his wide face. “King of All Four Corners of the World” was written in fancy gold script above his head.

“Seems like there are duplicates of a lot of these cards, but only one king card.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Jerry said.

I had another thought. “I wonder if Elijah’s lawyer knew about this.” I still had Misty May’s number, too, and gave her a call. Like Aaron, she was not available, so I left a message with her secretary to please get in touch with me today, if possible. “Ready for the chateau?” I asked Jerry.

He gathered the cards into a stack. “You bet. I looked through some of my stuff and found some programs and ticket stubs for Tori. Maybe we can convince her to go to the opera with us next time.”

“That’s a great idea.”

As we drove to Satterfield Drive, Jerry asked about Amelia Lever. “I’ve got too many questions and not enough answers,” I said.

“Suspects?”

“A whole pile of them. Marshall and Kevin have a great motive. They’ve been under their mother’s control all their lives, and now that she’s dead, they’re free to do whatever they want and marry the women they want. Norma Olsen seems really sweet, but she was very upset when Amelia didn’t retire. If she killed Amelia, now she has the job she wanted. Even Rachel’s a suspect. She says she moved her girls to Parkland Academy because of their father, but you heard what Denisha said this morning about Bron being afraid of Mrs. Lever. And one of Amelia’s students heard Rachel arguing with Amelia over the art grant. That gives Rachel two reasons to be mad at Amelia. Then there’s Mrs. Dorman and the rest of the faculty.”

“Okay, they’ve all got motives. What about opportunity?”

I stopped at a red light at the intersection of Maple and Main. “Rachel and Jacey were the only ones on the loading dock when Amelia died. I need to hear what Warwick has to say—if he found out anything. It’s possible she really died of a heart attack. And then there’s the problem of Nathan.”

“Nathan? How’s he involved?”

“I’m pretty sure Amelia was at his apartment not long before she died.”

“Nathan and Amelia. Give me a moment to visualize.”

“Unless Nathan’s decided to wear Purple Passion lipstick when no one’s watching. I found her brand of cigarette butts with her distinctive purple lipstick on them, and I found a paper like the ones at Nathan’s house in a stack of Amelia’s textbooks.”

“Why would she be visiting Nathan?”

“A better question would be why did she write, ‘Nathan, you need to check this’ on the paper.”

“A threat?”

“No, I think she was trying to help him.”

“We’re talking about Amelia Lever here, hated and feared throughout the land.”

“Yes, but Ronald Brown liked her, and I’m pretty sure the mysterious Rusty liked her. There could be a good reason she wanted to help Nathan.”

“Or ruin his chances. She seemed to be good at sabotage.”

“If that’s the case, then Nathan has a motive, too.”

Tori must have been waiting at the door because she opened it the minute we rang the bell.

“Come in, come in! Oh, Jerry, I love your tie!”

Jerry had worn a blue tie with yellow light bulbs on it. “I hope it’ll give us some bright ideas.”

“I love it! Can you stay for lunch? I’ve fixed something.”

“Sure, that sounds nice. And I brought some things for a new scrapbook.”

She was enchanted with the programs and ticket stubs. “Oh, this is wonderful! I never thought about making an opera scrapbook.” She examined each program. “
Paul Bunyan, Faust, Tales of Hoffmann.
You’ll have to tell me what all these are about.”

“I’ll be glad to.”

“These must have been fantastic productions.”

“Even better live and in color. You’ll have to come with us and see one.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, maybe.”

“You’d really like
Tales of Hoffmann
. It’s like a bizarre fairy tale.”

She nodded. I could tell she was afraid he was going to pull her out the door and make her go see the opera right this minute. She set the programs and ticket stubs on a small table in the foyer. “But first let’s continue our treasure hunt!” She practically bounced down the hallway. “Now, where did we stop? Oh, yes, Aunt Rescinda.”

Jerry took down the portrait of the scowling Aunt Rescinda. There was nothing behind the picture, nothing hidden in the frame, and nothing very inspiring about the aunt’s angry look.

“She must not have wanted her picture painted,” Jerry said as he maneuvered the portrait back on its hook. “Who’s next?”

“Elijah’s cousin, Barnaby Fenton. Oh! Oh! There’s a bird in the tree!”

I thought Tori was having an episode until I realized she was pointing to a small brown bird painted on the tree behind Cousin Barnaby.

“Is that the sparrow from ancient times?”

Jerry took a closer look. “It could be. How ancient is Cousin Barnaby?”

“I think he lived in the Eighteen Hundreds.”

“Do you see a river?”

“What’s that just behind his head?”

Jerry took the picture down so we could see. Cousin Barnaby, like all of the other relatives, was scowling. He stood with his hands folded. He had on a fine black suit and tie, and his white hair fanned out like a lion’s mane. He’d been painted outside, or in front of a nature backdrop. In the background, a dark flow of water cascaded over rocks and around trees.

“West to east?” Jerry asked.

I looked around. “Tori, which direction does your house face?”

“North,” she said.

“So if we’re standing here, and your front door is behind us, then the river in this picture is going west to east.”

“Oh, my goodness, this is it! This is it!”

I thought she was going to explode. “Take it easy. It has to fit the rest of the riddle.”

“‘Listen where the portrait lies,’” Jerry quoted. “Okay, I’ll listen.” He put his ear to the wall where the portrait had been hanging. “I hear nothing but stone.”

She giggled and actually touched his arm. “Why don’t you bring the portrait to the dining room? We can examine it while we have lunch.”

Tori had made salad, some sandwiches, and had a variety of cookies. We put Cousin Barnaby in a chair and looked at him while we ate.

Tori nibbled on a lettuce leaf. “I can’t believe we’re so close.”

I wanted to make sure she understood about the so-called treasure. “You know anything we find goes to Nathan.”

“Yes, and I want him to have it. This has been so exciting for me, though. I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

“Mac and I have this kind of fun all the time,” Jerry said. “You’re welcome to join us.”

She gave him a wistful smile. “That’s so sweet of you, but I’m fine right here.”

I decided to come right out and ask the question. “Tori, are you afraid to leave your house?”

The lettuce leaf trembled in her hand. “No.”

“Maybe you need something to wear? We could go shopping.”

“No, thank you. I can’t, that’s all.”

She looked as if she might cry. Jerry changed the subject. “Tori, are you sure that’s Cousin Barnaby?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“I’ve been thinking. The riddle says, ‘And listen where the portrait lies.’ What if it means ‘lies’ like ‘not tell the truth’?”

“But what about the sparrow and the river? They’re both in this picture.”

“Is that really Cousin Barnaby?”

She gave the picture another long look. “Well, I don’t know. I’m just going by what Aaron said.”

“Maybe something else in the picture is a lie,” I said.

She brightened. “Like those pictures that have all sorts of things wrong in them, or hidden pictures.” She hopped up and put her little nose almost on the portrait. “What could it be?”

“Tori,” I said, “why won’t Nathan come to the chateau?”

She sat back. “He never liked coming here. He said it was too big and gloomy.”

“But having to solve this riddle by Monday, I would’ve thought he would have been over here every day examining the portraits. And he knows his family better than I do. Why hire a stranger?”

She wouldn’t look at me. “He’s not welcome here.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just not.”

I didn’t quite understand. Nathan, like Jerry, was not a threatening-looking man. “Are you afraid of him?”

“No. I-I’m mad at him.”

“What did he do?”

Her voice caught. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Are there any more chocolate cookies?” Jerry asked.

She gave him a shaky smile. “I think so.”

My cell phone buzzed. “Excuse me,” I said. I left the table and went out into the hallway, mainly to give Tori time to recover. “Hello?”

It was Aaron Satterfield. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, Ms. Maclin. Someone tried to break into my home last night. I’ve been down at the police station making sure they have all the details.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, fine. I wasn’t home at the time, and I have a good security system.”

“Any idea why your home was targeted?” I asked, thinking it would be an amazing coincidence if he said, “Yes, to steal my Bufo cards.” But he didn’t.

“Unfortunately, a lot of homes in the neighborhood have been broken into lately. The police say the thief or thieves are after TVs and DVD players, the usual. What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Satterfield, did you receive some packs of Bufo cards in the mail recently?”

“Bufo cards?”

“Kids’ trading cards with pictures of dressed up frogs on them.”

He gave one of his amused snorts. “Oh, those things. My secretary said something about that. She checks all my mail.”

“Do you still have them?”

“No, I told her to throw them away. They must have been sent here by mistake. Why? What’s your interest in them?”

“They might have been part of Elijah’s game.”

Another snort. “Then I definitely didn’t want them. Sounds like his way of saying, ‘Jump when I tell you to.’ Was there anything else?”

“Do the police have a description of the thief?”

“No. Why? Is this relevant to Elijah’s riddle?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just a random break in, Ms. Maclin. I can’t imagine how it would connect.”

I couldn’t, either. He said good-by and hung up. My phone buzzed a second time. Misty May was returning my call. “Another question, Ms. Maclin?”

“Yes,” I said. “Did part of Elijah’s game involve packs of Bufo cards?”

“Bufo cards? The ones with the frogs on them?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s odd,” she said. “The last time I spoke with him, he gave me a card like that. I remember because he laughed, and he didn’t laugh often.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes.”

“It might be helpful if I could see it,” I said.

“I could mail it to you.”

This was Thursday afternoon. I probably wouldn’t get the card until Saturday, which was cutting it a bit fine. “Rossboro’s a short drive from Celosia, isn’t it? Why don’t I stop by later today? Would that be all right?”

“Of course. My office is on the corner of Clover and Fourth. I’ll be here till six.”

I closed my phone and went back into the dining room. As I expected, Jerry had cheered Tori with some sleight of hand tricks. He pulled a cookie from behind her ear.

“See? Told you there was another one.”

“That’s amazing! You should be on TV.”