Pink Flamingoed (19 page)

Brad grimaced with each step and leaned on Amy for
support. Amy looked at him sympathetically.

“You’re really hurt, aren’t you?”

“Now what gave you that idea?”

“What hurts?”

“I think my belly button came through relatively
unscathed. Everything else hurts.”

“Okay, Mr. Holmes. What really happened?”

“Get me to the house first. We’ll talk there,” Brad
replied.

Amy tried her best to support Brad as he limped across
the street. She wondered if any of the neighbors were watching. Surely Cora’s
eyes were peering through the blinds this time. Amy would know soon enough. If
Cora was watching, Amy would soon receive a call demanding answers.

Amy’s thoughts turned from Cora to Lady Catherine.
What did Brad stumble upon during his sleuthing exercise. Amy was afraid to
turn around to see if Lady Catherine was watching.

“My house or yours?” Amy asked.

“We’d better make it my house.”

Brad leaned on Amy, grasped the railing with his free
hand, while he climbed the steps. He leaned against the house, pulled out his
key, and handed it to Amy. Once he was lying comfortably on  his  couch  with
his head resting on Amy’s lap, Brad told Amy all about falling down the steps
and how he became much worse for wear.

“And do you know what I saw when I got to the
basement?”

“A dead cat hanging from the ceiling?” Amy replied.

“There may have been one. I didn’t stay around long
enough to make sure. Why did you say a dead cat, anyway? Is a hanging dead cat
supposed to ward off evil spirits?”

“No, the next inquisitive cat. So, what did you see?”

“I saw two coffins.”

“You’re kidding! You are kidding, aren’t you?”

“I wish I were.”

“Well, were there two bodies in them, or didn’t you
get close enough to check?”

“I’m stupid, but I enjoy living too much to try some
things.”

“Well, thank heaven for that. But tell me, were the
coffins opened or closed?”

“One was open, and one was closed.”

“Well, it sounds like an open and shut case to me,”
Amy replied with a smile plastered on her face.

“This is serious, Dr. Watson. Maybe Lady Catherine has
killed Norman or Lady Catherine and Norman have killed someone else.”

“Lady Catherine?”

“Remember
Arsenic And Old Lace?
Two old ladies
were doing the killing.”

“But that was fiction, Brad.  You know, that stuff you
write.”

“Yeah, but truth is stranger than fiction. I think we
need to investigate further.”

“Don’t tell me you want to go back at midnight?”

+++

Lady Catherine shook as she wondered if there was more
to Brad’s  story  than  simply  falling  down  after coming out of the
bathroom. Had Brad ventured down the basement stairs? And if so, what did he
see? Brad seemed eager to leave. Did he see what she thought he saw, and if so,
would he tell the other neighbors, or even worse, call the police?

+++

Brad looked at the front of the building and smiled.
He could not believe the name of the place. Truth must be stranger than
fiction. Brad took a deep breath, then reached for the doorknob of the Magoffin
Coffin Company. Upon entering the establishment he encountered a man who looked
like he was working at the right place.

“May I help you, sir?” asked the staid, elderly
gentleman.

“I hope so. Do you know Lady Catherine McPherson?”

“Do you mean the strange bird that lives on Aylesford Place?”

“I do believe you know her. I was told that she made a
fine purchase from you a while back, and I would like to see a coffin like the
one she purchased.”

“If I remember correctly, Lady Catherine purchased
three coffins from us, each one of a kind.”

As Brad and the older gentleman were engaged in
conversation, a third gentleman overheard them and joined the group.

“Did the gentleman need something, Milford?”

“Yes, Mr. Magoffin. This gentleman wanted to see
something similar to what Lady Catherine McPherson purchased.”

Mr. Magoffin gently pushed Milford aside and
approached Brad.

“I am sorry, sir, but we do not discuss our clients’
purchases. I am sure you can understand that we must keep our clients’ business
confidential.”

“Oh course. I didn’t mean anything by asking. I merely
heard that Lady Catherine had made a fine selection, and knowing that Lady
Catherine has such exquisite taste, I wanted to see the same item she bought.”

“Well, I’m sorry I cannot share that information with
you. However, I would be glad to show you what we have.”

“Come to think of it, I think it would be best if I had
my family with me to help me decide.”

“I understand. We will be glad to assist you at any
time.”

Brad hurried home to share with Amy what he had
learned.

“But Brad, there’s probably a very good explanation
for Lady Catherine buying three caskets.”

“I’m sure there is, but do you think someone got it in
the shower, on the stairs, or in the basement?”

“So you’ve given up on your theory that Miss Peacock
did it in the conservatory with the lead pipe?”

“That was never my theory. That was what Harry
thought. Only it’s not Peacock, it’s Peabody. Come on now, Amy. Why would
someone buy three coffins at once and what happened to the third one?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone buried it in the
cemetery.”

“Or in their basement. And wonder who’s in the third
coffin.”

“Can I cast my vote for Mr. McPherson?”

“Norman, or his grandfather?”

“I vote for his grandfather.”

“And who’s going to be buried in the other two
coffins?”

“Maybe no one. Maybe they just keep them in the
basement for those times when nosy neighbors come sneaking around.”

“You might think differently if one of the neighbors
comes up missing one night.”

“If that happens, Brad, I’ll hold the flashlight while
you climb in the basement window.”

+++

Mallory stepped out the back door of her house, her
mind occupied. She had no idea Kenny was in his tree house, prepared for the
moment she stepped into view. Kenny looked to make sure his mom and dad were
not around, then fired, just as Mallory turned and  stepped  back  into  the 
house. Kenny hoped the crash of the falling flower pot was not loud enough to
alert his mother. It did not matter, just as Mallory walked back inside, her
dad walked out to sit on the deck for a few minutes, just as the flower pot
exploded.

The mud ball and flower pot were not hard to clean up.
Two weeks spent in his room were more painful. It was almost as bad as the view
he had of his two sisters redecorating his tree house. Kenny almost threw up
when the pink curtains went up. His only solace was watching a scared Jill
climb the rope ladder. Her dad stood below and smiled as younger sister Mallory
encouraged Jill from her vantage point up in the tree house. Once Jill had
conquered the climb, she and Mallory turned, smiled, and waved at their
brother, who was not quick enough to duck out of sight in the confines of his
room. Two weeks, and then back to his tree house, but first he would have to
fumigate it.

Spring had set in, and thankfully the weather matched
the calendar. It didn’t rain all the way until summer. Spring was not bypassed
and Hopemont wasn’t thrust into a summer heat wave. Instead, days were sunny
with the temperature fluctuating from the low to upper seventies. Nights
slightly on the nippy side, but still pleasant. Perfect weather for getting out
and doing something. Why would anyone crave humid summers or frigid winters?
Summers are only good for sipping a cold glass of lemonade while lying in the
backyard hammock with a breeze blowing through the trees. Winter is only good
for winter sports, curling up under the covers with a book, or hibernating, and
with winter sports come body casts. Spring is good for dreaming and doing,
especially doing unto others during an annual fund raiser.

Amy picked up the phone and called Brad. “Did Cora
call you yet?”

“Yeah, what’s it all about?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s about the fund
raiser.”

“What fund raiser?”

“Hasn’t anyone mentioned it? Each year we decide on a
fund raiser to raise money for the orphanage, and, to save time, Cora
volunteers to decide on an idea for the fund raiser.”

“So, this is sort of like Aylesford Place’s version of
Girl Scout cookies or buying the overpriced candy school kids sell?”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“Any idea what we’re selling this year?”

“I don’t know that we’re selling anything. That’s what
the meeting at Frank and Cora’s is for.”

“Maybe we’re going to get people to sponsor us in a
walkathon.”

“I can’t see some of the people on this street taking
part in a walkathon, but you never know. All of them are pretty spry for their
age. Anyway, we’ll find out tonight.”

Brad laughed.

“Are you laughing at what I said, or something else?”

“I was just thinking what it would be like to see all
of our neighbors involved in a golf scramble,” Brad answered.

“It would be a scramble, all right. Well, I’ll let you
get back to work. See you tonight.”

“I can hardly wait,” Brad said, before hanging up the
phone.

That last comment made Amy stand there, smiling for a
few moments. Eventually, she realized that she had not yet hung up her phone. It
was words like Brad’s closing comment that made Amy wish for more time to spend
with the man she loved. Like a lifetime.

+++

Aylesford Place
was
abuzz. All day long neighbors called other neighbors to see if anyone had any
idea what idea Cora had for a fund raiser. They should have known better. Cora
was not about to reveal her fund raiser idea to anyone until everyone gathered
at her house. Although spring had arrived and the weather was pleasant, the
afternoon moved much too slowly for all concerned.

When evening came, Harry and Ethel were the first to
arrive at Frank and Cora’s. This was surprising because Harry had no idea why
the neighbors were getting together. Ethel decided not  to  tell  him  in 
order  to  keep   Harry  from  bugging  her  all afternoon. Plus, Harry would
have screwed his shoes on tighter and left his money at home if he had
suspected anything.

“This meeting isn’t about another raise for Pastor
Scott, is it?” Harry asked, as soon as he came in the door.

“No, Harry. I’ll let you know what it’s all about as
soon as everyone gets here.”

Everyone arrived by 7:30, and Cora delayed the
suspense no longer.

“Okay, everyone, as everyone other than Harry probably
already knows, I’ve called you together tonight to let you know about this year’s
project to raise money for the orphanage. I won’t keep you in suspense any
longer. This year our project is the
Phoenicopturus ruber
.”

“You’d better watch your mouth, Cora. Remember, the
pastor’s here,” Brad said, drawing a laugh from the crowd.

“What is that, Cora? Some kind of disease?” Harry
asked.

“Not any disease I’ve ever heard of,” Doc said.

“My guess is that it’s either plant or animal,”
Allison interjected.

“Right you are, Allison. Just a second and I’ll get
our species for you.”

Cora left the room and returned carrying something
under her arm.

“Harry, here is a
Phoenicopturus ruber
.”

“You could have fooled me. To me, it looks like a
plastic sunburned stork.”

“Actually, Harry,” Brad interjected, “it’s a pink
flamingo.”

“And you actually paid money for one of those things,
Cora?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and you might, too, Harry.”

“So, what are we supposed to do, Cora, buy one for our
yard or sell them to everyone we know?” Barney asked.

“Neither one, Barney.”

“Whew!”  said  a  relieved  Harry.  “This is starting
to sound a little better than I thought, but I don’t see how we can raise any
money from these things unless we either buy them or sell them.”

“I think I see,” said the mystery writer.

“Okay, Mr. Holmes. Tell us what the grand dame has in
mind for us,” Amy said, challenging the powers of her true love.

“Well, my guess is that someone will take this thing
home at some point and sneak into someone else’s yard and stick it in the
ground without getting caught. And if that person gets away with it, the person
in whose yard it is found has to pay a set amount to the orphanage,” Brad
speculated.

“Why, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever
heard,” Harry said. “Even Cora wouldn’t come up with something like that.”

“Actually Harry, Cora did come up with something like
that,” Cora said, proud of her idea.

“I think this thing has taken a turn for the worse,”
Harry said, as he covered his face with his hands.

Cora continued in order to do so before Harry offered
any rebuttal.

“Listen carefully, everyone. Here are the rules.
Before anyone leaves here tonight, each one of us will draw an envelope out of
the box I have in the corner. In each envelope is a piece of paper. All of the
pieces of paper are blank except for one. Whichever one of us draws out the
piece of paper with the ‘X’ on it will come back and pick up the pink flamingo
from our front porch, and at some point before daylight, the same person must
take the pink flamingo and put it somewhere on the property of another of the
street’s residents.

“You are not to hide the flamingo. It must be placed
where someone can see it, so putting it under someone’s ramp or under someone’s
front porch is a no-no. Naturally, the vacant house is off limits, and so is
the Orthmyer’s house. If the person can place the flamingo and get away without
getting caught, then the person on whose property the flamingo is placed will
owe the orphanage fund the sum of twenty dollars.”

“Twenty dollars!” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes, Harry, twenty dollars. And if by some chance the
person who has the flamingo is caught trying to place it on someone else’s 
property,  then  the  person  trying  to  place it must pay the twenty dollars.
Each day, whoever has the flamingo is responsible for taking it to someone
else’s property. Any questions?”

“Are we allowed to disguise the flamingo in any way or
put it in a box?” Kenny asked, excitedly.

“No, Kenny. Whoever has the flamingo must take it as
it is. Oh, you can feel free to decorate it for the person you give it to, but
it must be recognizable as our flamingo. Also, whoever has the flamingo must
either stick the wire into the ground, or leave it somewhere, like on the front
porch swing or by the front door.”

“This sounds like fun,” Jill exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Mallory echoed.

Scott turned to Nancy and whispered in her ear.

“It looks like it took a pink flamingo to get all of
our kids excited about the same thing.”

“I have a question,” Allison said. “Is it possible for
the same person to receive the flamingo more than once?”

“Yes, Allison, but we’re not to pick on the same
person all the time,” Cora answered. “Let’s spread the wealth around, so to
speak.”

Cora finished answering questions and her neighbors
began to draw envelopes from the box.

+++

Brad left as Amy did and walked her home.

“You’re just trying to get rid of me, so that you can
sneak back later and leave me an ugly bird,” Amy said.

“How dare you call a
Phoenicopturus ruber
ugly?”

“Only you could remember the scientific name of the
thing, Brad Forrester.”

“And only you would call that poor, unwanted,
defenseless thing ugly, Amy Carmichael.”

“Did you see the beak on that thing?”

“Yeah, and I’ll try to see that you get an up-close
look,” Brad replied.

“Listen, Mister. You’d better get home. I might have
some work to do tonight.”

“Me, too. I might go home and start writing
The
Mystery of the Phoenicopturus Ruber
,” Brad said.

“Writers!” Amy said.

“Photographers!” Brad countered.

And with that, Brad and Amy hugged and kissed good
night.

+++

The Armbruster children hurried home, each one eager
to discover if he or she had the envelope with the “X.” Scott unlocked the door
and everyone hurried inside.

“How are we going to do this, Dad?” Kenny asked.
“Secretive or as a family?”

“Well, since it doesn’t do us any good to work alone,
and we’re all in the same boat this time, let’s sit down and open them
together, only one at a time.”

“Can I be first?” Kenny asked.

“I think we should start with the oldest,” their
mother suggested.

“Okay, you go first, dear,” her husband said.

“I beg your pardon,” Nancy said in mock anger.

Scott opened his envelope. His paper was blank. Nancy followed, and hers too was blank.

“Oh, man,” Kenny said, disappointed that one of his
parents did not have the envelope with the “X.”

“We still have three more chances,” Mallory said
optimistically.

Jill went next, but had no better luck than her
parents. Then came  Kenny’s turn, and the same result. All of the family’s
hopes rested upon Mallory. Mallory took her time, thus prolonging the agony.

“Hurry up, slow poke,” her brother said, eagerly
awaiting the family’s fate.

Mallory opened her envelope and slipped the paper out
of the envelope. It too was blank. All of the Armbruster children dejectedly
sat back in their chairs.

“We should have drawn one out for the baby, too,” Jill
said.

“It’s not fair,” Kenny chimed in. “We had the most
possibilities. One of us should’ve gotten it.”

“Maybe whoever has it will leave it in our yard
tonight,” Mallory offered, remaining optimistic.

“It looks like our children are eager to spend our
money,” Scott said, turning to Nancy.

“Who do you think has it?” Kenny asked.

”I think Brad has it,” Jill said.

“You would,” Kenny replied.

“I think it’s Amy,” Mallory said.

“Well, my vote goes to Allison,” Kenny said.

“Well, if we’re all going on the record, I’ll vote for
Harry,” Scott added.

“You can put me down for Lady Catherine,” Nancy said.