Midsummer Murder (13 page)

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Midsummer Murder

Ellis came to stand beside her. “Byron wants to talk to Robert. What the hell, pardon, can that lamebrain be up to now?”

She saw Robert, backlit from the amber stage light, turn a shocked face toward the policeman, then watched as the policeman escorted him up the aisle. Jeremy stood rooted to the floor. First one dancer stopped, then another, until the whole stage was staring at the strip of sunlight left by the closing door. Then Jeremy bolted up the aisle, slowing down long enough to exclaim, “They’re taking him for questioning,” in a voice so filled with hurt, that Lindy felt it in the pit of her stomach.

Biddy met Lindy and Ellis at the door. “I saw what happened. Feel like we’ve been here before?”

* * *

They arrived at the house to see the sheriff’s car parked at the front of the steps. Lindy was vaguely aware of people behind her. Then she saw Robert in the back seat of the car and forgot about everything else.

Grappel got in the passenger side, slammed the door, and the car drove away. Chi-Chi came out of the annex at that moment. Dropping a dish towel, she began running after the car.

Jeremy caught her around the waist and held her tight. She struggled to free herself as if she intended to chase the car down the mountain and into town.

A movement on the steps caught Lindy’s attention. “Jeremy,”

she cried. It was a reflex action. There were other people standing closer to Marguerite, who had slumped against a column and sank to the ground.

Jeremy propelled Chi-Chi in Lindy’s direction and raced for the porch.

“I’m okay,” she said. She had recovered herself faster than Lindy dreamed was possible. “I’ll get Dr. Addison.”

Chi-Chi took off down the path to the infirmary. Lindy turned to watch her and met instead the anxious faces of sixty young dance students.

Madame Flick’s voice came from somewhere within the group.

“Coome, cooome. It will be all right. Let us get some work done so we will have something goood to show Ms. Marguerite on Saturday 81

Shelley Freydont

night.” The other teachers began to gather the students back toward the theater.

“It was a stampede,” said Peter coming up to Lindy. “First one student, then another and they were all heading for the door like someone had yelled fire. You taking over?”

Jeremy had lifted Marguerite and carried her into the house. Dr.

Addison passed them at a full run followed closely by Chi-Chi.

“Yes. Biddy, let me know the minute you hear anything.”

* * *

Biddy and Lindy sat with Stuart and Ellis at the dining table.

Marguerite was “resting comfortably” according to Dr. Addison after a mild “spell.” She didn’t elaborate, but said she would be in her office until late that night. Jeremy had driven Chi-Chi into town to the sheriff’s office.

The four of them picked at their food, attended only by Sandiman, who hovered tragically at the sideboard when not serving the courses of food that went virtually untouched.

Stuart tried valiantly to keep a thread of conversation going, but by coffee, even his determination had faltered.

“Should we cancel the student show?” asked Ellis. Sandiman bobbled the brandy snifter he was placing before him. “Oh, do stop hovering, man.” Ellis shooed him away with a flourish of his hand.

“Get yourself a glass and sit down.”

Without a word, Sandiman retrieved another glass from the sideboard, poured out the brandy, and took his place at Lindy’s left.

She widened her eyes at Biddy.

“Unorthodox, you’re thinking,” said Ellis. “Sandiman is a family retainer in both senses of the word. He’s an anchor as well as a butler. And he knows better than the rest of us what is good for Marguerite.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So what do you think?” Ellis swirled his brandy snifter until the liquid threatened to spill out.

“Let’s not be hasty, Ellis,” said Stu. “We need to staunch any speculation, not give in to it.”

“Speculation?” asked Biddy.

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“The sheriff obviously is going to make more of this than there is,” said Stu. “Why else would he have Robert taken away in full view of the entire camp? He could easily have questioned him here. He questioned the rest of us without taking us ignobly away to the pokey.”

“He questioned you?” Lindy looked from Stu to Ellis.

“Yes. He’s determined to cause trouble,” said Stu. “Evidently they found some papers in Larry’s locker that are ‘suspicious’ according to Grappel, though that is all he would say.”

Ellis returned his glass to the table. It caught the edge of his saucer.

The brandy splashed over the rim and rolled down the side. “It’s ridiculous. I won’t have Marguerite placed under any more stress. I don’t know what I’d do if . . .” His voice faltered. “If something happened to her.”

Stu reached across Biddy and placed a hand on his forearm. “We’re not going to let anything happen to Marguerite.”

Ellis looked at Sandiman. “I think we should close the camp until this whole thing is cleared up.”

Sandiman returned his employer ’s look with a candor that surprised Lindy. She had no personal experience with servants, but she had read enough to know that they were not usually consulted on family business.

“Ellis,” began Stu.

“You said only last night that we should—”

“Should be prepared to do what is necessary for the survival of the camp.” He motioned to Biddy and Lindy. “By way of explanation, Cleveland’s parents were quite upset as you can imagine. The father especially—”

“Like father, like son,” said Ellis.

“Well, yes. He made some rather outrageous accusations and threats.

The poor mother was mortified. If he does decide to sue, especially if there are any circumstances that would suggest suicide or negligence on our part, it could be extremely damaging to the image, not to mention the solubility of the trust and, consequently, to the camp.”

He sounded just like a lawyer. When Lindy had asked him earlier what he did before he retired, he had answered, “Oh, a bit of this and that.” She wondered now if some of the this and that had included legal work.

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“All the more reason to send everyone home. I won’t have Marguerite dragged through the mud because of that vindictive ass of a sheriff.”

“We agreed to sit this out,” said Stu firmly.

“But if it does blow up, it could ruin us; it would kill Marguerite.”

“But if we win, there will be no stain or questions about the reputation of the camp or the family.”

“Sandiman?” Ellis’s question held a twinge of desperation.

Sandiman cleared his throat. “What would Madame want, sir?”

Ellis slumped back in his chair, defeated.

Lindy looked at Sandiman in astonishment. Sitting ramrod straight on the edge of his chair, long bony neck swathed in starched collar and impeccably tied jabot, patrician nose slightly hooked at the tip, thin lips, sparse hair, oiled and combed straight back from a high forehead, he was the perfect stage butler. Never again would Lindy think of servants as part of the furniture. Like Rose, Sandiman heard things people didn’t even realize they were saying. And like Rose, he obviously had the clout to influence others.

With one short sentence, delivered without inflection, the Eastons’

butler had declared war on Sheriff Grappel and public opinion.

The sound of an arriving car sent Biddy to the window.

Chi-Chi and Jeremy entered the dining room a few minutes later.

Sandiman returned to the sideboard and set two additional places at the table.

“Not for me, Sandiman,” said Chi-Chi. Her round, buoyant face sagged. Gone was the bustling commandant of the annex. The Chi-Chi that stood before them was a tired, washed-out, rather dumpy middle-aged woman.

Sandiman continued to place silverware on the table. He pulled the chair out and Chi-Chi sat down.

Jeremy poured himself a brandy and went to the window. He stared out into the night.

“Sit down and eat something,” said Biddy. Her voice was like a cooling balm. Lindy had heard that voice calm the most agitated hearers.

“I’ll eat when I’m hungry,” said Jeremy without turning around.

Lindy saw Biddy’s throat tighten as she swallowed her next words.

“How is Marguerite?” asked Chi-Chi between mouthfuls. She was already beginning to look younger and more energetic.

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“Nothing to worry about,” said Stu when he realized Ellis wasn’t going to answer. Ellis was staring over his shoulder to the unmoving figure at the window. “Adele says she just needs to rest. She’ll be fine.”

“If she isn’t put through any more of this absurdity.” Jeremy turned on them, shot Ellis an angry look, then turned away.

Ellis looked surprised and hurt and a little confused. Lindy wondered if he would be able to hold up under the strain any better than his sister.

“Byron refused to let us see him.” Chi-Chi’s eyes were focused on the unlit candelabra that sat in the middle of the table. It gave the effect of her talking to unseen dinner guests at the other end. “They’re going to keep him in the jail until the last possible moment, and they have absolutely no right.”

Sandiman filled her wine glass.

“I know he’s going to hurt him, I just know it.” She took a gulp of wine and choked.

Stu patted her on the back. “Now, now, he knows better than to do anything to Robert. They can only keep him for twenty-four hours without arresting him.”

“Arresting?” Chi-Chi’s face crumpled. “For what? What can they possibly think he has done? He wasn’t derelict in his care for the students. It isn’t really his job to oversee them. We have counselors, and assistant counselors, and—me.”

Stu’s hand rested on her back. “Whatever Grappel is up to, he’s no match for us.”

Jeremy returned his glass to the sideboard and walked quickly toward the door. Sandiman barely managed to get there before him.

An uncomfortable silence settled around the table. Ellis and Biddy stared at the tablecloth. Stuart continued to pat Chi-Chi mechanically on her back. Lindy tried to read a clue from Sandiman’s face, but he had slipped back into his role of butler.

* * *

“You really didn’t have to do this,” said Chi-Chi opening the door to the cabin that she and Robert called home. “I’m perfectly all right.

Jeremy is taking this harder than I am.”

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“We were glad to come along,” said Biddy. “And don’t worry about Jeremy. He always takes things too much to heart, doesn’t he, Lindy?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Marguerite sure keeps up to date, doesn’t she?

Between the infirmary and this . . .” Lindy gestured to an elaborate computer console that covered an entire wall of the tiny living room. A wooden desk stood in front of the equipment leaving just enough room to move from one to the other. Its surface was scattered with papers. To one side, a mayonnaise jar held pencils and pens. More paper was stacked haphazardly at the corner of the desk. A glass with the remains of a murky orange liquid rested on top of the paper.

“This is office as well as home.” Chi-Chi looked lovingly around the room. “It does take up a lot of space, doesn’t it? It was Marguerite’s idea. When Robert and I were married, she decided that I should learn the hotel business.” She shrugged. “She wanted me to feel like I was needed. I never even finished high school; too smart for my own good.” She laughed, a fragment of cheerfulness making a brief resurgence. “So she sent me to a hotel management course, and I started running the annex. It wasn’t so big then. It seems like another lifetime.”

Chi-Chi looked up, her eyes round and slightly expectant. “Would you like a cup of tea or something?”

Lindy would like nothing more than to go to bed. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, and her calves and thighs were feeling the strain of her morning hike.

“That would be great,” said Biddy.

Chi-Chi left them, snatching the used glass off the desk as she passed by. Pretty soon the noises of tea preparation were heard from the other room.

“Thank you, Miss Nurturer,” said Lindy.

“I don’t think she wants to be alone. And anyway—” Biddy took a breath.

“No songs about walking alone in a storm, please. We’ve had enough rain as it is.”

“How about: Picking yourself up, brushing yourself off—”

“And starting all over? No thanks.” Lindy walked over to the desk.

“Get a load of this equipment. Glen’s office isn’t this sophisticated.”

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“The entire management of the annex and retreat is done on that computer,” said Chi-Chi. She carried a wicker tray of tea things and put them on a coffee table in front of a sling-back couch. Lindy and Biddy sat in two butterfly chairs that faced it.

“I can do all the ordering, keep the books, link up to the reservation desk, plus help Robert with scheduling for the camp. All from my living room.” Her hands moved around the tea things. Talking about her work seemed to revive her. “We even print the programs on that laser printer. The quality is really good.”

“The program we saw yesterday was printed here?”

Chi-Chi handed Lindy a cup. “I did it a couple of nights ago. The hardest part was getting Robert to write down all the information.”

“I was wondering about that stack of scratch paper,” said Lindy with a laugh.

“Some of us are mechanically-minded and some of us are creative. We’re perfect together.” Chi-Chi sighed. “I hope he’s all right. I don’t trust Byron.” Her features squeezed together. Lindy looked away while she composed herself. “Oh, please don’t let him hurt him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be all right,” said Biddy.

“They wouldn’t even let me give him his allergy pills,” she said with a final sniff.

“Allergies,” said Lindy trying to disentangle her mind from the image of Byron Grappel standing over Robert with a rubber hose.

“That must be unpleasant in these surroundings.”

“Poor darling. His eyes water and his nose and throat close up without antihistamines and his power drink.”