Barbara Graham - Quilted 04 - Murder by Vegetable (12 page)

Tony handed Theo the infants and took off running toward Quentin. It wasn't easy to dodge the crowd, a task made doubly difficult when people began shifting around trying to see what had happened. Mike Ott arrived first. When Tony made it through to the scene, he saw Mike bending over the prone figure of Hairy Rags. Wade was charging toward them from another direction. Like Tony, he still wore his can-can costume.

Tony noticed Doc Nash hustling as fast as he could, weaving through the surging festival goers. Right on his heels was Wade's wife, Dr. Grace Claybough. A few people headed in the opposite direction, jamming up the doctors even more. At least the crowd wasn't screaming with panic.

Theo hated being left behind. She was too short to see over anyone taller than a small child, and holding two babies didn't make climbing onto the chair feasible. The decision about what to do was taken from her. The curious crowd hurried toward the clearing. She was carried along by a tidal wave of newcomers, forcing her to leave the ticket table unguarded. Luckily she was able to stash the cash box in the stroller, but then had to abandon the stroller.

A glance into the concession area showed Jane and Martha and Callie standing on chairs, trying to see. To her right, the musicians on the stage waved their arms and sang louder to attract the attention of the audience but no one seemed interested in watching them. Giving up the fight, they stopped their music and turned to face the action. The “relics” clumped together, Nem taking an obviously protective stance near the cluster of frail old ladies.

Hoping to find someone to hold the now-squalling babies while she returned for the cash box, Theo headed toward Nem and the relics.

The Bainbridge sisters were huddled together, looking like they expected something awful to happen and they wanted to die together. Tiny Portia Osgood planted herself and her new walker firmly behind Nem and next to Caro. Ada walked in a circle around them all, swearing steadily under her breath. Nem waved Theo closer, “Miz Theo, you're welcome to join us.”

“Thank you.” Theo walked over to the group, shifting the babies higher in her arms. “I don't suppose you have any idea what happened?”

Ada's description was certainly colorful, but lacked details. Ada ignored Caro's attempts to stem her tide of profanity.

“I saw it all.” Nem cleared his throat. “That wretch Ragsdale got himself shot with a spud. Walked right into it. Served him right, but I hate to see Quentin suffer for it.”

“They ought to give him a reward,” Caro whispered to Theo. “I just never could like that man. Not after all the things he's done.” She reached out and smoothed Kara's hair. It stood away from the baby's scalp as if she'd touched a static electricity machine.

Lizzie began squalling and if there were any other comments her wails drowned them out. Theo did manage to see Tony, Doc Nash with Grace, and Mike approach the prone figure of Harrison Ragsdale. She tried, but failed, to feel sorry for Ragsdale. Mostly she was concerned because the man appeared to have collapsed during Jane and Martha's big festival. She spied Chris and Jamie, all pretense of cleaning tables gone, trying to creep around the outside perimeter to get closer to the motionless body, and called them back. “You boys do something useful instead of nosing around where you don't belong. Chris, will you please go get the stroller for me. And Jamie, I'm sure we could all use some water.”

Ada's steady stream of profanity attracted the boys' attention. Hesitating only briefly, they went off to do as they were bidden. “It's not like there's any blood,” Chris muttered. “Just a guy lyin' on the ground.”

“Chris!” Theo waved him back. “The money box is in the stroller. Don't let it fall out.”

The boy looked at the entrance and back to her. “Mom, there's people coming in without paying.”

“I know. I know, and people are leaving just as fast.” Theo took a deep breath, forcing herself to use reason rather than frustration. “I'll go back as soon as you bring me the stroller. Your sisters are getting heavy.”

Caro held out her arms. “I'd love to hold a baby for you.”

With a grateful sigh, Theo passed Kara to her elderly friend and focused on calming the now hysterical Lizzie. “Poor baby.”

Only moments later, Chris ran toward her pushing the stroller much faster than he would if it was occupied. The cash box bounced out and Jamie scooped it up, hanging on to it like a football. The boys skidded to a stop, garnering great applause from the elderly onlookers. The boys wrapped their arms across their waists and made dramatic bows.

Theo had to laugh. Sometimes it took very little to be in the entertainment business.

Doc Nash squatted next to the body of Harrison Ragsdale, stretched out facedown in the grass, and confirmed the man was dead. No reason to hurry now. He waved for Grace to join him. “If you're going to doctor in these parts, you'll be checking the dead as well as the living.” He squinted in Tony's direction and winked at Grace. “Especially as long as Tony's the law. But doesn't he have nice legs?”

Tony didn't respond to the gibe. He watched as the doctor hooked a finger into Hairy Rags's collar and pulled it back so Wade could take pictures. Several scratches ran in parallel lines across the skin between the shirt collar and his thick, snow white hair. Tony asked, “What do those marks look like to you?”

His deputy had made his way through the crowd just seconds behind everyone else, took one look and disappeared into the woods for a moment. Wiping his face with his handkerchief, he retrieved his camera bag from the car and now was all business, placing markers and rulers and making notes about the photographs he was taking.

The doctor leaned closer and tilted his head back so he could focus through the magnifying part of his bifocals. “They look like claw marks. Maybe one of his charges took a swipe at him. I'd guess a game warden might interact with some of his furry charges but I've seen some similar marks left by angry humans. I'll take a good close look during the autopsy.”

Tony nodded and looked up the hill to where Quentin had his potato cannon set up next to the trebuchet and the catapult. “How accurate do you think that cannon is?”

“It's not a big cannon. I know some of the mega cannons can blow a potato through a wall.” Doc Nash chuckled. “As far as accuracy, a small cannon, in a professional's hands, and at closer range, it might be pretty good, in Quentin's shaky world, not so much.”

Tony looked at Quentin, who had started running down the hill the moment Harrison fell. Now standing next to Mike, he was panting and wringing his hands, threatening to twist one off. Tony walked over. “You all right?”

“I didn't see him.” Quentin's head bobbed twice and he wailed, “Wh-hat was he doing out here?”

Tony glanced around, trying to ignore the horde of curious onlookers. “You and your friends clearly marked this area as a potentially dangerous place to be. I don't think you can be held responsible for someone ignoring the warning signs and walking into your potato.”

“Bless you.” Quentin's shaking subsided a bit. “Bless you.” He turned and hustled back up the hill to where his friends waited.

“Tony.” Doc Nash stood and brushed grass off his hands. “There's something iffy about this body.”

“Iffy?” Acid poured into Tony's stomach. He reached into his pocket for his emergency antacid supply. “Iffy how?”

Doc Nash watched Wade working with his camera. “I'm not sure. It doesn't look like the potato hit him hard enough to form a bruise, much less kill him. There are ways to determine force, but in my experience I'd say the spud is definitely innocent of any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he died of, though I'm pretty sure it was not natural causes.”

“Pretty sure?” Tony wrote himself a note. “Those words don't exactly warm my heart.”

Grace pointed at Harrison's mouth with a blade of grass. “It looks like some skin irritation here. Maybe he ate something he shouldn't have or something stung him. Does he have any allergies?”

“Not that I'm aware of, but he's not a patient of mine.” Doc Nash searched the man's wrists and neck. “He's not wearing any kind of medical alert information.” He dug through Harrison's pockets. “No medications so far.” He pulled out Harrison's badge and placed it into a paper bag before reaching into another pocket. He extracted a revolver. “I'm giving this to you, Sheriff.”

Tony checked it. It was fully loaded. He unloaded it and placed the gun and cartridges into an evidence bag.

Doc's inventory continued. “I'll keep the knife, cell phone, comb, and handkerchief.” Doc made his own notes. “You take the keys.” Doc pulled out the wallet, flipped through the contents. “Nothing here about allergies.” He placed the wallet into the bag of personal items and stared at the body for a moment, then said just loud enough for Tony to hear, “Maybe poison?”

Hearing the “P” word, Tony reluctantly turned to face the milling crowd standing just beyond the makeshift fence. Would he see hordes of people falling to the ground, poisoned at his family's party? Thankfully, there were just the normal gawking faces, some serious, some gleeful. “Go back to the food and crafts and the music. There's nothing to see here.” He began walking forward, shooing the leaders, like he was moving cows. Jumping into the spirit of the situation, Berry and Gus worked their way around the outside of the crowd and added their assistance.

Without warning, Martha grabbed one of the musicians, who, startled, fought her briefly and inadvertently scratched her arm with his fingernails. After a mumbled apology, he climbed the steps to the stage, pulling his partner with him. They launched into an upbeat favorite, and soon the audience was just that again, a group of people clapping and singing and eating and enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon. It wasn't like they'd lost someone they all cared for and there didn't seem to be anything much to see at the death site.

Tony lined up the vegetable weapon crew, spacing them too far apart to allow for any conversation. He considered Quentin's potato striking the man nothing more than a fluke, but he thought the foursome demonstrating vegetable warfare might be able to help him. They would have had a great vantage point for seeing something out of the ordinary. “The four of you were looking down at our little event. So, one at a time I'd like to ask you some questions, and I don't want you talking to one another.”

“Ladies first.” Wade beckoned to Veronica.

Tony had no idea what had caused Ragsdale's death, so he decided to go with the generic, “Did you see anything that struck you as unusual?”

Veronica gazed down the hill. “We were all having a great time. The weapons performed better than expected.” She paused, reining in her enthusiasm. “I didn't see the man on the field until the potato was in the air. Looking back, it seems like he might have staggered an instant before he was hit, but the ground is uneven and I've come close to turning my ankle several times.”

“Staggered?” Tony considered the implications of the word.

“You know, like he'd had too much to drink, or maybe as if he stepped in a hole and was losing his balance.”

“Anything else?” Tony stared down the hill at the ambulance arriving to cart off the corpse.

“No.” Veronica shrugged. “Sorry. It was a tremendously fun day until then. I hope we get to do it again.”

Tony sent her to change places with Roscoe. Their conversation didn't last long. If anything, Roscoe had seen less than Veronica because he was “gazing at my lady love” instead of looking down the hill.

The professor strode toward them. With each step, his great belly swung right, and then the other way. Up close, his red velvet tunic was well sewn and highly decorated with embroidery and jewels. Tony thought Theo would be proud of his ability to judge the quality of needlework. It had taken her years to train his eye—a long transition from Neanderthal to an appreciative viewer. “Who made your outfit?”

The professor's wide smile broadened. “My wife.” He waved to someone in the crowd below. “That's her, the gray-haired woman buying a ticket, or more likely twenty of them, for the quilt being given away. She's more interested in the crafts than our weapons.”

Tony thought he detected bewilderment about his wife's lack of interest in the weapons. Although he couldn't see the woman, he believed she was in the crowd. “How, or why, did you decide to participate today?”

“Are you kidding? I live for this.” The professor's belly bounced, making the jewels flash in the sunlight. “Food, music, and the chance to blow rubber duckies out of a trough with a vegetable. Can life get better?” He lowered his voice and reined in some of his exuberance. “Except for this incident and that one hideous musical act.” He shuddered at the memory.

Tony had to admire the man's enthusiasm. He wasn't too sure what it would take to get him out in public in a miniskirt, but to each his own. Tony managed to convince himself the can-can skirt was much more masculine, at least while the black satin hung straight down covering the inner ruffles. “I understand you're from Knoxville. Have you ever met Harrison Ragsdale?”

The jovial expression vanished. “I have.” The professor averted his eyes and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Under what circumstances?” Tony always found it curious how disparate lives so often intersected with each other.

“You might find this hard to believe, but we were roommates our freshman year at the university.” The professor shook his head. “To be precise, we were roommates for the first month of freshman year. After that, I was able to make other living arrangements. To be frank, I'd have rather slept under one of the bridges than share with him any longer.”

“Wow.” Totally gobsmacked, Tony stared. “Why?”

The professor looked as if he might not answer. Then, exhaling loudly, he began talking. “It was not awful the first week. We were young, away from home for the first time. He was from this end of the state, but I grew up in Pulaski, so I was farther from my home. The first few days, he was the only person I knew on campus.” The professor's hands shook as he pulled a handkerchief from a hidden pocket in his tunic and blew his nose. “I'll not get into more detail unless necessary, but I quickly learned he delighted in cruel behavior toward people and animals.”