AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD (13 page)

“I can’t say. Surely you understand that, Detective. I have to protect my sources. What kind of weaselly faced informer would I be otherwise?”

“A blond woman.” Bentley jotted it down on his pad. “She was described to you as—?”

“As a brazen hussy.”

“And she and Bobby Fuller were seen walking together on the main street in Wolfingham?”

“Yes.”

“She might not even live there. They might have arranged to meet there because it’s close by. I don’t see how I can find her. This description is hardly complete. How old was she, for instance?”

“I don’t know, Detective. My sources didn’t say. I got the feeling she was around Bobby’s age, though, or maybe a little younger.”

Bentley shook his head slowly.

Bernard, from the massive armchair which he favored, said, “I would suggest that you search Bobby Fuller’s apartment. There might be something with her name on it, or an address—something.”

“We’ve already been all through his apartment. Nothing there.”

“Yes, but you weren’t looking for another girlfriend’s address. It might have been overlooked, or tossed aside. Why don’t you go through it again?”

Bentley got to his feet. “Not a bad idea. I’ll do that.” The door banged shut behind him.

Maya came in a few minutes later with the groceries and a worried expression on her face. “Was that Detective Bentley I passed on the way up here?”

Bernard nodded.

“Why was he here again? Hasn’t he tortured us enough?”

“We called him and invited him over.”

Maya leaned against the kitchen door. “What in the world possessed you to do that, darling?”

Bernard briefly outlined Snooky’s conversation with
Charlotte. Snooky lay on a sofa nearby, holding Misty on his chest and gazing deep into her soft red-brown eyes. He was murmuring to her under his breath.

When Bernard was finished, Maya said, “Using some more of your famous charm on that helpless old lady, Snooks?”

“I can’t help it, My. Women are fascinated by me. Look at Misty, here. I have her spellbound.”

“She’s not spellbound.” Bernard pushed aside the red shaggy hair over Misty’s face. “She’s asleep.”

“Well, she’s asleep
now.
But five minutes ago she was spellbound.”

Misty snored pleasantly.

“So Bobby had another girlfriend,” said Maya.

“Yes.”

“This puts a whole new wrinkle on it, doesn’t it, darling?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think this mystery woman could have been the one who killed him?”

Bernard gazed out the window and scratched his beard thoughtfully. “It’s possible. Yes, it’s possible.”

“Do you think … well, do you think that Irma had any
idea?
”

“About this other woman, you mean? No, I’m sure she didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she wouldn’t have gotten engaged to Bobby if she knew about it. And I’m sure he went to great lengths to keep his two lives totally separate.”

“Do you think Detective Bentley has any chance of finding out who she is?”

“I doubt it,” Bernard said bitterly. “Given his abilities.”

There was a long silence. The fire leaped and crackled, reaching tendrils of flame up the blackened chimney. Snooky sighed, the weight of Misty on his chest and her placid breathing lulling him to sleep. Bernard sat quietly,
his eyelids drooping. Maya sat on the edge of his armchair, curled up in the crook of his arm, half-asleep.

After a while, Bernard picked up a small notebook and a large green Magic Marker that lay on the coffee table in front of him. He opened the notebook and uncapped the pen. Maya, on his shoulder, was fully asleep now. She sighed and murmured something. He shifted his weight so he was more comfortable, put his arm closely around her, and with his other hand wrote:

JLSY?

This stood for “jealousy.” He looked at that for a long time.

Then, in rapid succession:

MNY? (“money”)

GRLFRND (“girlfriend”)

DD SMON ELS NO? (“did someone else know?”) and

GRD (“greed”)

It always came down to greed. So many things did. It was a shame, Bernard thought. He suspected that if Bobby Fuller had been a little less careful about concealing his mystery girlfriend, he might still be alive. The killer might not have seen Bobby as a threat if they had known about his other life. On the other hand, it was possible that this girlfriend was the one who finished him off. She might have heard about the engagement and lost her head.

He made a few more notes in large green letters, and sat looking in self-satisfied absorption at his notebook while the fire burned low in the grate. Around him Snooky, Misty and Maya slumbered peacefully, their faces relaxed and quiet. Misty’s mouth was open and she was dribbling happily all over Snooky’s newly washed shirt. Bernard looked up from his notes and smiled.

For the next few days, life in the cabin went on as usual, except that Bernard grew increasingly fretful. He gnawed on his pencils until Maya remarked that he was making himself
a candidate for lead poisoning. He switched to gnawing on his erasers. He decapitated the bunny eraser and gnawed thoughtfully on first one ear, then the other.

“What’s with Bernard?” Snooky asked Maya one night in the kitchen, after dinner. “I don’t get it.”

“He’s got murder on the brain. He’s thinking more about Bobby’s death than he is about his work.”

“Watching him chew on the furniture is making me ill.”

“He’s not sleeping too well, either.”

Finally Maya, in irritation, suggested that Bernard call the police station and find out what was happening. “Honestly, if it’s bothering you so much, Bernard, then do something about it. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Bernard looked up, a pink bunny leg dangling from his mouth. “Like what?”

“Like this. Here, I’ll dial for you.” She picked up the phone book, riffled through it, then dialed rapidly. “Here. You talk.”

“Is Detective Bentley there, please?… Hello?… Yes. Thank you.” Bernard waited. “Detective Bentley?… Bernard Woodruff here. I was wondering … uh-huh … uh-huh … uh-huh … Oh. I see … Uh-huh, yes, I see. Thank you … Really?… Thank you very much.” He hung up.

“Well?”

“Nothing,” Bernard said heavily. “He said they’re ‘pursuing some clues,’ but I could tell he has nothing. There was a sort of surly, defeated tone to his voice.”

“Maybe he always sounds like that.”

“Yes, but this was worse than usual.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“That’s all right. It’s none of my business, anyway.” He turned away and bit off one of the rabbit paws savagely. “I’ve got my work to do. I don’t have time for this.”

Sarah and Snooky were in bed together the next afternoon, in her room upstairs at the Ditmar mansion. This
was a small, functional closetlike space, filled with stuffed toys from her childhood, small framed watercolors, and study guides for the law boards, which she was planning to take soon. Irma had gone off into town to do some shopping. Gertie, as always, was out in the woods.

“So Irma’s up and about,” Snooky said. He ran one finger down Sarah’s delicate profile. Her red hair was spread out over the pillow, catching the afternoon light in glints of flame. She was gazing contentedly up at the ceiling. Sarah, he had discovered, was freckled all over, her skin a pale apricot, her body sinewy and strong.

“Yes. I think that visit from the Grunwalds helped to revive her. Got her back in fighting trim, she said. Her heart’s much better, and she seems to have more energy.”

“Good.”

“Irma’s very strong mentally. I know she doesn’t seem that way, but she is. All she needs is a challenge to get her going.”

“Uh-huh.” Snooky was not interested in Irma’s mental strength. He played thoughtfully with Sarah’s hair.

“How are things out at the cabin?”

Snooky shrugged. “Bernard’s even more irritable than usual, if possible. He can’t seem to get Bobby’s death out of his mind.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms behind her head. “That’s funny. To me it seems like it never happened. I mean, like that whole episode with Bobby and Aunt Irma never happened. Life is just going on as usual.”

“Uh-huh. Sarah, I was wondering … you never heard anything about—well, about any other woman that Bobby was involved with, did you?”

Sarah looked startled. “Another woman? No, nothing. Have you … what have you heard?”

“Just wondering. You don’t think that anyone else in your family knew about anything like that, do you?”

“No,” she said positively. “I’m sure they didn’t. News
like that would get around. Nobody here can keep a secret. Are you sure about this, Snooky?”

“No, no. It’s just an idea … an idea that Bernard and I had. He wondered if Bobby could have been interested in somebody else.”

“I don’t think so. He always seemed very devoted to Aunt Irma.”

“Uh-huh. Listen, something else has been on my mind. How would you like to come out to the cabin and stay with me for a couple of days? Irma doesn’t need you as much now, and we never get any time together alone.”

“What about Maya and Bernard?”

“They wouldn’t mind. They’re my guests, anyway. It’s
my
cabin, remember?”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Don’t be ridiculous. They’d be delighted. You’re one of the first girlfriends I’ve ever had that they both liked.”

“Well, in that case, I accept. I’d love to get out of the house for a while, if you’re certain I’d be welcome.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Snooky, leaning back on the pillow and gathering her into his arms.

That evening, he cornered Maya over the dishes and said worriedly, “My?”

“Mmmhmmm?”

“Do you think it’d be okay if Sarah came out here to stay with me for a couple of days?”

Maya gave him an amused glance. “Of course it would. Why are you asking me?”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Don’t be stupid, Snooky. What you do is your own business. You’re an adult, aren’t you?”

“I know that. I know that, My. I’m just asking.”

“Well, it’s fine with me. I like Sarah. She’s different from your other girlfriends. She seems normal. Ask Bernard about it if you have some kind of problem. I guarantee you he won’t care one way or the other. As long as his meals get
served on time, Bernard can ignore pretty much everything else.”

“Okay.”

The conversation with Bernard was short and to the point.

“Bernard?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to ask you a question.”

Bernard leaned back from his typing table and regarded his brother-in-law wearily. “Yes?”

“Would it bother you if Sarah came to stay with us for a while?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Here?”

“Yes.”

“In the cabin?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No, it wouldn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why would it bother me?” Bernard said irritably. “You’re bothering me much more right now by interrupting my work, for instance. Is this conversation over?”

“It is on my side.”

“Then good-bye, Snooky.”

“Good-bye.”

“Has Bernard ever considered becoming a therapist?” Snooky asked his sister later that evening. “He’s so empathetic, you know. I just wondered.”

Maya was correcting a copy of her latest article. She had her reading glasses on and was huddled next to a lamp. “Bernard is empathetic, in his own way. Did he mind about Sarah?”

“No.”

“I told you.”

“I know you did.”

“When will she be coming?”

“Tomorrow night, I think.”

“Good.”

“Does Bernard listen to you when you talk?” Snooky asked plaintively. “Just wondering.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t understand it. I don’t get it, My. How could he be such different things to different people?”

Maya, absorbed in her article, did not reply. Snooky sighed and picked up the dog.

“It’s just you and me, Misty. Nobody else around here pays any attention to us. They don’t care what we do.”

Misty, hanging in midair, regarded him placidly.

“Misty has very beautiful eyes. Have you ever noticed that, My?”

Maya nodded absently.

“Her eyes remind me of Bernard’s. Sort of a deep, soulful brown.”

Maya thoughtfully corrected a mistake with a large red pencil.

“I’m going to go out back and shoot myself,” Snooky said, unwinding from his chair. “So long, Maya.”

Maya brushed back a wisp of hair from her face. “So long, Snooky,” she said kindly. Snooky sighed again and went into the kitchen to work on a lemon meringue pie he was preparing for the next day.

The next evening, after Sarah had arrived, they all gathered around the fireplace after dinner. There was a storm blowing up outside, and the wind whipped around the cabin, howling in through the cracks. Snooky, sprawled on the floor, stared in fascination at the leaping flames. Sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he could see fire lizards, eagles whose wings were ablaze, armies of tiny men moving jerkily through flaming fields. Around him everyone was quiet, lulled by the enormous meal and the heat. Sometimes,
Snooky felt, if he tried hard enough, he could see the past or even the future. Sarah, lying next to him, leaned her head against his shoulder. Her hair was the same color as the flames. He put an arm around her and held her close.

“This is how life should be lived,” he said. “Roughing it in the wild, close to nature, close to our roots.”

“This is life on the edge, all right,” remarked Maya.

“I don’t understand why I’ve never moved out into the wilderness before. I feel as though I’ve found myself.”

“You’re difficult to locate,” Maya said dryly. “Sometimes your true self is out in the wilds, sometimes it’s living in the big city. It changes so often.”

“That’s not true, Maya.”

“It is true. You’re a wanderer, Snooks—a free spirit.”

Bernard, from his seat on the couch, snorted derisively.

Snooky gave himself up to contemplation of the flame shapes that were forming in the depths of the fire. The little marching men were clearer now, banners waving, legs moving rapidly as the flames fled upward into the blackened chimney. The fire eagle spread its wings and soared upward, vanishing with a pop. Faces appeared and disappeared, loved faces from his past, swimming before him in a reddened haze of memory. His head drooped gradually. He was nearly asleep when he heard Maya say, her voice rich with amusement,