The Outsmarting of Criminals: A Mystery Introducing Miss Felicity Prim (32 page)

“Sister!” Miss Prim exclaimed. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“I simply couldn’t wait, Sister,” Celia said. “This was something to tell you in person, not on the phone, so I hopped on the train and took a cab into town from Two Oaks. After such a journey, I was feeling quite thirsty, so I thought it could not hurt to stop at the tavern for some refreshment.” She winked at Miss Prim. “And Maude here, being a true gentleman, insisted on escorting me to Rose Cottage. Well, I certainly could not turn down such an inviting offer; so here we are. Maude, would you mind mingling for a bit while I talk with my sister? I shan’t be long.”

Maude nodded graciously and unlinked his arm from Celia’s.

“Oh, my,” Celia said. “It’s such a relief to be out of physical contact with him. He
quite
distracts me.”

“Sister,” Miss Prim said with a grin, “you are simply incorrigible.”

“Yes, I am,” Celia agreed. “And in addition to being incorrigible, I am tenacious. I have the most wonderful news. I have found our sister.”

Surviving the kidnapping attempts of a suitor was
a good reason to be happy, but this—
this
was cause for even greater celebration.

“Oh, Sister!” Miss Prim exclaimed. “I have so much to tell you about what has happened since we last spoke. But all of that can wait. Tell me everything.”

As Dolly rooted around in the refrigerator behind them, Celia launched into her tale. “After hours of combing the Manhattan records hall, I located Aunt Ada. She had lived for many years on the Upper West Side, but she died about ten years ago. I went to the building in which she had lived for so many years and began knocking on doors, hoping to find a neighbor who would remember her. And I was successful. Across the hall lives a delightful old lady, still quite sharp, who was happy to reminisce about Ada. Her reminiscences were not exactly fond, however. Apparently, Ada was widely disliked. The phrase Mrs. Berry used was ‘hypocritical old prude.’ You know, the type who complained about everyone in the building, minded everyone’s business but her own, and didn’t tip servicepeople at Christmas. In short: one of those spinsters who gives mature unmarried women a bad name.

“But Mrs. Berry also remembered the nie
ce who had lived with her. She had only lovely things to say about the young woman. Apparently, the two of them had bonded when Mrs. Berry had happened upon the young lady crying in the elevator. She invited Ada’s niece in for a cup of tea, and the niece revealed her life story, which had taken her many years to piece together. And a most revealing story it is.

“We wondered why Ophelia would not marry
Papa. She could not, Sister, because she was already married! She had lived on Long Island with her husband, an abusive man who beat her regularly. In desperation, she fled to her only relative, the aforementioned Aunt Ada, who reluctantly took her in. Ophelia filed divorce papers, but her husband was insanely jealous and he refused to grant her the divorce. And Ophelia feared that her husband would hurt or kill Papa if he were to discover his identity. She was trying to
protect
Papa, Sister! In the meantime, she got pregnant, which enraged her puritanical aunt, who then took against Papa for having compromised Ophelia’s virtue. Ophelia was thus in a no-win situation. She feared that if she accepted Papa’s offer, her estranged husband would hunt him down and kill him. So she was forced to accede to her aunt’s wishes, because she did not want to be turned out onto the streets with an infant.

“And we know what happened after that. Poor Ophelia died, and Aunt Ada had to care for the child. Before she died, Ophelia had begged the aunt to change the baby’s last name so that her husband could never find her daughter. So, rather than giving the child the surname Crenshaw, she simply took the letters of Ophelia’s last name, LeFevre, and rearranged them into Veerelf. And
—this is the best part, Sister—I have located a Miss Providence Veerelf living on the Lower East Side! I tracked down her home phone number, and I have left several messages, which she has not yet returned. But when I return to Manhattan, I shall go to her apartment building and sleep on her doorstep, if need be, until she returns.”

Before Miss Prim could say a word
—for the stunning truth had destroyed her ability to speak—she heard a bowl crash to the floor behind her. She and Celia turned to see Dolly standing there, an inscrutable expression on her face.

“Celia,” she said slowly, “
my
last name is Veerelf. And my given name is Providence. My second-grade teacher nicknamed me Dolly, and I’ve used it ever since.”

Miss Prim struggled to find her voice. “Dolly, how can we have known each other all these years, and yet I never knew that Providence is your given name?”

“I don’t tell anyone, Miss Prim. I just don’t like my name, and I never have. It brings back horrible memories of growing up with my great aunt Ada. I put that name on a back shelf when she died, and I never thought it would see the light of day, ever again.”

It was Celia’s turn to be shocked.

“But, can this mean,” she sputtered, “that … that …
you
, Dolly, are our sister?”

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” Dolly said. Then she added, touching Miss Prim’s and Celia’s arms simultaneously, “Sisters.”

*

Oh, what a joyous day
, Miss Prim thought, her eyes sweeping over her guests. Celia and Dolly stood in one corner, talking animatedly and occasionally embracing, while Maude stood protectively over Celia, gazing at her with alarmingly adoring eyes. Spike Fremlin and Killer Abramowitz inspected the bric-a-brac as Spike engaged in a running monologue that Killer appeared to find simultaneously fascinating and incomprehensible. Martin Reed stood with his arm around Valeska’s waist as his wife leaned into the crook of his arm. Miss Gladys Lavelle looked transformed; in the space of an hour, her face had shed twenty years. Lorraine and Lucian watched the proceedings like elder statespeople, with Lucian prattling to Lorraine, who responded to her quasi-husband’s stories with lingering glances of adulation.

Miss Prim lowered her head for a moment
—the whole day had been overwhelming. So many plot turns in such little time! How had she not picked up on the anagram of LeFevre into Veerelf? This was perhaps one of the most overused, hackneyed elements of crime fiction, and any savvy reader would have seen it coming. But the epiphany had eluded her completely. Which meant, she supposed, that she still had a lot of learning to do before becoming an expert criminal outsmarter. Why, she’d even done the worst thing a criminal outsmarter could do—she had jumped to conclusions! All along she’d assumed that Alexander had been murdered, but he’d died of natural causes. She made a mental note:
Guard against trusting circumstantial evidence in the future.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sister,” Celia said, as she entered the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for Maude.

“I wouldn’t call them
thoughts
, Sister,” Miss Prim replied, “but rather
feelings.
Feelings of deep happiness and gratitude.”

“We are indeed lucky,
Sister,” Celia replied. “As always, the cards predicted all of it. It is indeed comforting to know in this unpredictable world that the cards never lie.”

“A
s grateful as I am,” Miss Prim said quietly, “I cannot help but feel that everything is just a bit too …
coincidental
. Surely, if these events took place in a novel, readers would complain about too much coincidence. Even those lovely readers who willingly suspend disbelief.”

Celia considered this. “Sister, what you call
coincidence
, I call
cosmic alignment
. All the events of the past week have been leading us here, inexorably. We cannot, should not, and must not fight Fate, especially when it has been so good to us. Now, I’ll hear no more of this
coincidence
nonsense. Come, sit with me and Dolly.”

The Things We Do for Love

Miss Prim and her guests had settled in a circle in the parlor, talking about everything in general and nothing in particular, sharing anecdotes from their childhoods, travels, and life experiences. From the peals of laughter emanating from Rose Cottage, a bystander would not have guessed that just 24 hours earlier two of the inhabitants had been held captive in a quasi-deserted farmhouse.

When the doorbell rang, Miss Prim’s heartbeat accelerated slightly. Only two guests had yet to arrive, and she was not sure she truly wanted to
see one of them. She excused herself from the conversational circle and opened the door to find three men standing on her doorstep: two expected, one unexpected. The expected guests were Detective Ezra Dawes and Doctor Amos Poe. The unexpected was Benjamin Bannister.

Before she could say a word, Benjamin rushed to take Miss Prim’s hand. “Miss Prim, I expect I’m the last person you want to see right now. But I wanted to help Doctor Poe and Dolly explain everything to you.”

Dolly, a.k.a. Providence, appeared at Miss Prim’s side. “Benjamin, Doctor Poe, something incredible has happened here today,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it later, but now we have to come clean with Miss Prim. Let’s get it over with.”

Doctor Poe stepped forward. Miss Prim noticed he was not wearing handcuffs or
the orange jumpsuit that would have branded him as a criminal. He looked a bit dazed; but more than that, he looked embarrassed.

“Dolly, Benjamin, I appreciate your offer, but I need to talk with Miss Prim alone. This was my idea, and I conscripted the two of you into it. I bear all respon
sibility in this matter.” He looked directly at Miss Prim. “Miss Prim, I fully expect you will never wish to lay eyes on me again after you’ve heard my story. But it is a tale that must be told. May we speak somewhere in private?”

Looking at Doctor Poe
—the man for whom she had held more affection and esteem than she held for any other man on Earth, except Papa—Miss Prim’s somewhat angry heart melted.

“Yes, Doctor Poe. Let us sit in the backyard, and I shall listen to everything you have to say. Detective, Benjamin: Help yoursel
f to refreshments. Come, Doctor. I shall show you the backyard, though I suspect you have already seen it. It was you running through it several nights ago, was it not?”

Doctor Poe nodded and followed Miss Prim to the rear of the cottage.

Doctor Prim approached the patio table and pulled out a chair for Miss Prim, as was his wont. After she’d settled into it, he took a seat facing her.

“I must say, Doctor Poe, you are looking a bit the wo
rse for wear,” Miss Prim began.

“While you, Miss Prim, look as radiant as ever. Leave it to you to come out of a kidnapping ordeal looking even younger and more lovely.”

Doctor Poe cleared his throat. “Ahem. So, here we are, Miss Prim; and I must confess, it is not the place I had hoped to be. Now let me explain what happened to you, and then I will be on my way.

“We have known each other many years, Miss Prim, and I think you know I have never been a man given to
exaggeration. I daresay we have long complemented each other in that regard: unimaginative me and creative, enterprising you.

“As
you know, I was quite beside myself with grief when you announced not only your impending retirement but also your desire to enter the field of criminal outsmarting. I suppose I could have lived with both those decisions, but the idea of your moving out of the City and up to Connecticut—
that
I simply could not accept. Dear Miss Prim, you were the light of the office and the light of my life. And I am not the only one who feels this way. Dolly and Viveca were devastated, and even Zoroastria, not a woman given to tears, became quite morose. As for Norah—well, let’s not talk about Norah, as she is an outlier.

“The night after you announced that you’d purchased this cottage, Dolly and I were working late and commiserating. Dolly put into words what all of us were feeling. She said she wanted you to be happy, and to have the adventures and experiences that you so strongly desired; but at the same time, she feared for your safety, and she could not bear the thought of being so far away from you. Then she said the words that will live in infamy. ‘Oh, Doctor Poe. If only
we
could give her the adventure she wants! We could do it safely and ensure that she comes to no harm. Then she’d realize that it’s not much fun being in danger, and that she really does
not
want to pursue a career that puts her life at risk!’

“I began ruminating on those words, and before I knew it, I had appr
oached Dolly with my idea. The idea was this: We would find a way to create your first case in a controlled way. Thus you would have your experience of outsmarting a criminal, after which you would wish to return to us in New York. And life would return to normal, but with one change. You would return to the City as Mrs. Amos Poe, not as Miss Felicity Prim.

“
Dolly had her cavils, but I overcame them. Thus we sat down and hatched this plot.

“To begin creating the sense of menace
that we believed you desired, I rented a car and drove to Greenfield, where I applied some makeup to my face and color to my hair in order to disguise myself. Then I began asking about you in town, with the hope that word would get back to you that an unknown man had been making inquiries. Dolly and I took turns calling your home phone and then hanging up when you answered. And, as you suspected, it was indeed I who was lurking in your backyard that evening.”