Let's Play Dead (20 page)

“Are you saying it wasn’t an accident? Do you know something more than what’s been announced in the news?” He didn’t voice the next logical thing—that I had contacts with local law enforcement who could tell me more.

“No, I don’t. From what I know of Arabella Heffernan, she’s a lovely person and a good administrator. I know full well the difficulties of the situation she faces, and I hope she—and Let’s Play—can weather them. By the way, I think in light of what happened at Let’s Play, we should revisit the state of our own electrical systems, so that we can reassure the public that our building is safe.” I didn’t mention that I’d already started that process.

“How much will that cost us?” someone grumbled, and we were off on a tangent once again—one that at least led away from Arabella and her problem.

After a few more minutes the meeting broke up and the members dispersed. Marty lingered behind. “You want to grab some dinner?” she asked.

I considered for about three seconds. “Sure, sounds good. I owe you for stepping up on the registrar position. Just let me get my stuff.” Luckily I’d driven in today, anticipating the late meeting, so I didn’t have to worry about catching a train.

We meandered over to the restaurant on the corner and found a quiet booth. Once we were settled and had ordered, I said, “I thought that went pretty well. Of course, we’re all still on good behavior, and there hasn’t been time to accomplish much—or to screw things up.”

Marty gave a slight nod. “I haven’t heard any complaints, but then, they know I’m on your side, so maybe they wouldn’t talk to me. Look, I’ll cut to the chase: Jimmy told me about Arabella’s ex.”

“The so-called IRA terrorist? Why would he tell you?”

Marty shrugged. “He asked me what I knew about him, back in the day, not that I could tell him much. Plus I think he’s keeping an eye on you—and trying to keep you out of trouble.”

I should have figured that James would go to his cousin Marty as the local expert on Philadelphia society. But I didn’t like the way the rest of that sounded. “Marty, I don’t need babysitting. I do think the whole terrorist connection is kind of far-fetched, especially the idea that this guy would come back now just to make trouble at Arabella’s museum. And if James is pursuing this just to keep an eye on me, you can tell him to quit it. It’s a waste of FBI resources.”

Marty smiled.” Look, if there’s a legitimate threat, he’s got to look into it. And if you want him to back off,
you
tell him. But I think it’s kind of cute that he wants to keep you out of trouble.”

Cute
was not the word I would have chosen.
Annoying
came closer. “Why would I get into trouble?”

“You’ve already gotten together with Arabella a couple of times. And don’t forget Hadley.”

“Hey, Hadley came to me, not the other way around.”

“Drama queen, that one. Why don’t you tell Arabella to take care of her own problems? Not to mention Hadley?”

Our food arrived while I turned over answers in my mind. “A couple of reasons, at least where Arabella is concerned. As for Hadley, I’m happy to tell
her
to take a hike. But I like Arabella and I don’t think she had anything to do with this, and she doesn’t deserve this kind of trouble. I certainly know what that’s like. And I also feel a professional stake in this; like it or not, if the public believes there’s a threat to our Philadelphia cultural institutions, all our attendance—and our revenues—will drop. You’ll notice that the topic even came up at the board meeting, and they’re usually pretty clueless about things like that. The sooner this is cleared up, the better off we’ll all be. Do you want any more reasons?”

Marty laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. But just watch your back, will you? If you want to hold on to this job, you have to keep the board happy. That’s your first priority.”

“I know.” I savored my excellent lasagna, which gave me a chance to change the subject. “Marty, did you already know about Arabella’s ex-husband’s ties to the IRA? You hinted at something in her past.”

“Like I told James, I didn’t know the details about him specifically, I just knew there had been problems. And as I’ve said to you before, I admire what I know about Arabella. It sounds like she pulled herself up by her bootstraps under difficult conditions. But I have to say, it makes me wonder—could she really have been that naive back then, married to an IRA activist? If she’s really as smart as she appears to be now, could she have really been in the dark about her husband’s activities? Just think about it, that’s all.”

I didn’t like what I was hearing. James was giving some credence to the terrorist angle, and now Marty was issuing vague warnings? Had Arabella really seen Nolan at the Market? Or was she seeing ghosts now? Her reactions had certainly seemed sincere enough. And if it really had been him, why was he here now?

Marty had résuméd talking, and I had to force myself to pay attention. “How’s Shelby working out?” she asked.

“Good, I think. She may not be old Philadelphia, but when she turns on that southern charm, it works. You should have seen her handle Hadley, getting her out of my office fast, before I said something I’d regret. I’ll have to see how she does with grant proposals. Speaking of which, thank you so much for that funding for the registrar’s position. I’ll do my best to see that we match it with grants and donations from this end.”

“I’ll make sure you do. I had to call in some favors to get my share, but I thought I owed Alfred that much. Uh, off the record, Jimmy chipped in, too.”

“Why off the record? Is he worried that he’ll look like he feels guilty about something? Obviously, if he didn’t want me to know about it, he isn’t using it to impress me. Or buy his way into my affections.”

“Could he?” Marty asked.

“Could he what?”

“How do I put this . . . you interested? Because if you aren’t, I can tell him to back off and save you the trouble.”

“Marty! We’ve had like one and a half dates, if you want to call them that.”

“Yeah, right. Okay, I’ll shut up about it and let you two muddle along. How’s your lasagna?” And the talk drifted to impersonal things.

It was late when I drove home, but at least the roads were empty and I made good time. I had to laugh at Marty playing matchmaker. I knew she was mistress of all the intricacies of local family connections, past and present, but I’d never thought about her trying to forge new ones, particularly within her extended Pennsylvania clan. Should I be flattered? More important, was I interested in James? Maybe, maybe. But right now I didn’t have time to think about it.

The next morning was our regular biweekly staff meeting
, held before the doors opened to the public. I had two new employees to officially introduce, which was good. More important, I had to crack the whip and get everyone to focus on their jobs, now that the holidays were behind us and people weren’t distracted by things going on in their lives outside the building. Some people actually
had
lives outside of the Society.

I’d warned Shelby and Eric to be there early, and they were already in their seats, looking eager, when I arrived. One of them had even thought to bring coffee and goodies, a surefire way to win friends among the staff. I smiled at the latecomers who straggled in, and called the meeting to order a few minutes after nine.

“Good morning! I know you’re all busy, so I’ll keep this short. First of all, I wanted to officially introduce the person who will be filling my former role as director of development, Shelby Carver. Since she’s been here nearly two weeks already, she’s probably introduced herself to all of you by now. Shelby, you want to say anything?”

Shelby beamed at the group. “No, ma’am. I think I’ve met all these nice people already. And if anybody has any ideas for a good grant project, just stop by my office and we can chat.”

“Good idea. If there’s anything I’ve learned working here, it’s that you never know what’s going to catch a funder’s eye, and you staff members here know what the real needs are. We want to know what you’d like to see implemented. Of course, we still have a long way to go to beef up our security systems, and before you say it, I know you’d all like to see a small raise in your piddling salaries.” A quiet laugh rippled through the group; they’d heard this before. Nobody here had had a raise in all the time I had been here, more than five years now. But I’d keep trying, because the staff members deserved it, and they couldn’t be expected to work purely for the love of local history. Not forever, anyway.

“And there’s one more new member here, Eric Marston. He’s my new assistant, and that’s a pretty big job, at least from my perspective. Please make him welcome. I suspect either he or Shelby is responsible for the tasty treats here?” Eric blushed and smiled. “Eric, you’re learning fast! The best way to win over people here is to feed them. One other staffing issue—we’re still looking for a replacement for Alfred Findley, so if any of you knows of someone who might be interested in the registrar job, please let me know. A computer wizard might be helpful, since Alfred was the only one who really knew how the cataloging database works. Okay, anything else we need to talk about?”

The meeting shifted to small administrative details and scheduling issues. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Front Desk Bob peer into the room—he was holding the fort out front while we met. I raised one eyebrow, but apparently he wasn’t looking for me. He nodded toward Eric. Eric looked confused but excused himself and headed out the door.

After a few more minutes the staff scattered to their respective tasks, and Shelby and I shared the elevator up to the third floor. “I need to talk to you about looking for some funding for Alfred’s position,” I told her. “Marty Terwilliger announced at the board meeting last night that she’s started the ball rolling with an endowment fund to help support collections management, and we want to use it to supplement the salary for the position. In fact, she’s guilt-tripping the other board members to ante up, too. Can you check through the funder database and see what might fit?”

“Sure will,” she replied. “You have a job description for the position?”

“Talk to Melanie—she does, and she’s updated it recently. Alfred Findley was here for years, and I understand the computer side of things has changed just a bit. He understood it, but I don’t know what kind of instructions he left behind. Or . . .” I stumbled over my words, distressed at my own oversight. “Or you should talk to Latoya, since she was his boss.” Heck,
I
had to talk to Latoya to update her about Marty’s offer. “And FYI, he was some kind of distant relative to Marty, which is why she’s helping out financially.”

“Marty seems to be related to just about everybody around here,” Shelby remarked as we arrived at the development office.

“That she is. That’s what makes her so useful on the board. Have you had a chance to talk to her?”

Shelby shook her head. “Not more than in passing.”

“She’s worth getting to know. Maybe we should all have lunch one of these days.”

“You figure things’ll be slow for a while?”

“Maybe. A lot of our members are retired and older, and they don’t like to come out in winter. Just wait until summer—we actually get tour busses stopping by.”

“Kind of like a magical history tour?”

“You’ve got it.”

I was about to go back to my office when Eric appeared in the doorway, looking worried. “Sorry, Shelby, but can I borrow Nell for a minute?”

I met his concerned gaze. “We’re all set anyway. What do you need, Eric?”

Eric didn’t answer but urged me toward my office, bypassing his desk outside. Once in the office, he said, “Hadley Eastman’s assistant, Chloe, is downstairs. That woman fired her with no notice, and she’s real upset.”

I wasn’t surprised, given what Marty had told me and what I’d seen firsthand of how Hadley treated Chloe, but I wondered why she’d come here. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

“We aren’t—the only time I’ve ever seen her was when she was here with Hadley this week. But maybe I’m the only person who’s been nice to her lately. Anyway, do you mind if I bring her up here? I figured you didn’t want her to sit in the lobby weeping—it might scare off some of our patrons.”

I was confused. Why was Chloe so upset? I would think that she’d rejoice that she was finally free of prima donna Hadley, but maybe she was in dire financial straits and couldn’t afford to lose the job. And maybe . . . she could tell me something about Hadley. “Sure, bring her up.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll try to find a quiet corner and see if I can calm her down.” Eric headed back toward the elevator, and I took my seat behind my desk and tried to figure out what else I was supposed to be doing at the moment. At least I could check off the Executive Committee meeting, which I thought had gone as well as I could have hoped, and the staff meeting, too. What next?

I’d managed to put in a constructive half hour clearing necessary paperwork when Eric rapped on my door, with a teary-eyed Chloe hovering reluctantly behind him. “Nell, sorry to bother you again, but I thought you really ought to talk to Chloe. About Hadley.”

I wondered if I’d ever work my way through the pile of papers on my desk, but I did want to hear what Chloe had to say, especially if Eric thought it was important. “Sure. Chloe, come in and sit down.”

Chloe came in and sat timidly. “Look, I’m really sorry to be a pest. Eric told you Hadley fired me?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that, although I understand that happens a lot with her.”

Chloe nodded. “Yeah, I knew that, but I thought I could handle her. And I thought at least I could learn something about publishing and stuff. Maybe it would have been okay if it hadn’t been for what happened at Let’s Play.”

Eric was still hovering in the doorway. “Eric, come in and shut the door, and sit down,” I said. “You’re the one Chloe asked for, right? Why was that, Chloe?”