The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) (12 page)

Geez, how long is she going to go on? I continued listening.

“...Pluto is the ruler of death and intensifies whatever it touches. A person’s horoscope is also influenced by the placement of the Moon. You take that person's aspects—”

“Mmmm...this caramel rum raisin sauce is fabulous,” Elizabeth said all of a sudden.

“I know what you mean. Marissa caramelizes these apples so well,” Deirdre said, looking at Elizabeth.

“And the chocolate ganache…yum,” I added. “Deirdre, wouldn't you need to have the birthdates of the murderers?”

“The madeleines are delicious, too,” Elizabeth said.

“I wonder what Dr. Anders' birth date is?” Deirdre asked in a low voice, almost to herself.

I looked up at Deirdre and raised an eyebrow.

“We better make sure we go for an extra long walk tomorrow,” Elizabeth said as Marissa hobbled back into the room.

She put RESERVED signs on the three tables nearest us, came over and said, “Just wanted to let you know, Bill Murphy and a couple of other officers are in the main dining room on their break. I'm putting the reserved signs on these tables so the three of you can have your privacy. There aren't many customers today anyway. Not sure what is going on here, but I’ve heard some bits and pieces with a few names dropped.”

“Thanks, Marissa. Are we talking too loudly?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, but I just want to make sure you have your privacy. Okay, then.” Marissa started walking away and then turned around. “How did you like the madeleines?”

“You have a winning recipe,” I said, and Marissa left the room.

“We should try and keep Margaret's and Al's homes under some kind of surveillance to watch for activity,” I said. “At some point, I would think we would see something suspicious going on.”

We decided to have a stakeout on Saturday since Phil and Mike would be helping out at the Fantasy Jazz Camp in St. Paul over the weekend.

“By the way, why is the music camp called a Fantasy Jazz Camp?” Elizabeth asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Phil's been talking about it all week. Something about players and singers of all skill levels and experience are welcome. Tapes or auditions aren't required so anyone can participate.”

“Interesting,” Elizabeth said without a bit of interest in her voice. “We should leave early in the morning on Saturday. I have an overnight wilderness team building program for the library to go to around noon. You'll need to stay on after that by yourselves.”

“Elizabeth, when do you work at the college next?” I asked.

“Monday.”

“Is there some way you could get more details about the book Sherman was working on?”

“Sure. I know most of the professors in Sherman's department, some quite well. I used to date a few.”

Deirdre looked at me and rolled her eyes.

Elizabeth smiled, looking between the two of us. “I'll see what I can uncover about Sherman's research and what he may have discovered.”

When we were getting up to leave the patisserie, I noticed a police officer, who must have been on break with Bill Murphy, limping down the hall on his way to the restroom. All of a sudden, I was seeing limpers everywhere.

“Do either of you know who that cop is?” I motioned with my head towards the police officer. “He's limping.”

Deirdre shook her head and looked over at Elizabeth.

“I don't either,” Elizabeth said. “I'll look into it.”

Outside, on the way to her car, Elizabeth said, “As long as we're talking about dates, I have a hot date tonight.”

Deirdre grimaced. “
You
were the only one talking about dates.”

I fluttered my eyelashes. “Is it with Dave, our favorite photographer?” I was glad not to be at Marissa’s worrying if someone could overhear us. Besides, the conversation now was turning personal, so it didn’t matter.

“No, I haven't seen him since we went out last week to the comedy club. It was great. He wrote some of the material they used that night. The guy's talented. You should read the screenplay he's writing. It's a riot. No, I'm going out with Lorenzo.”

“Where are you going?” Deirdre asked.

“First, we're going to start with drinks at his place. Maybe he’ll play the piano for me. Some Mozart, perhaps. He’s a great pianist. Then, we have tickets in St. Paul to a performance of
The Magic Flute
at Concert Hall.”

“Phil loves Mozart.”

“Sound wonderful,” Deirdre said. “You sure go out with talented men.” She winked. “Kay, do you have anything going on tonight?”

“Sure, lots. First I'm going to be scrubbing the bathroom tiles. Then there's this big knot I have to get out of a ball of twine. If I have time—”

“You'll whiten your teeth.” Deirdre finished.

“Right,” I said. We all started laughing. “Elizabeth, what about Anthony? I haven't heard you talk about him lately.”

“He’s history.”

As we got in the car, I sat in the passenger’s seat with Deirdre in back. It was good to keep those two separated. “Do you think we should let Marissa know what's going on?” Deirdre asked.

“She would be a big help if she overhears anything in the patisserie. Lots of people in town come here every day,” I said. “But she'd be another person we’d be putting in jeopardy. And how do you know she isn't one of the six? Think about it. We have to vet Marissa before bringing her in.”

“Marissa? Come on, Kay,” Elizabeth said.

Before she had a chance to turn on the engine, I said to Elizabeth, “Why don’t you go on, get ready for your date. Deirdre and I can walk back. I’d like to go through the alley and look at the back of the stores. Angie and the girls said on the night of the Halloween Ball, they heard a racket before the suspicious persons walking down the alley entered a different building. Maybe we'll see some evidence of broken locks or windows, anything.

“Yeah, I’ll go get ready. Beautiful doesn't just happen by accident.”

Thursday, November 3

I walked up the front steps to Al's house, rang his doorbell, and glanced through the window in his door. My heart raced. What was the surprise he had for me? I stepped back a few paces as the door opened.

“Good morning, Kay,” Al said in a cheerful voice. “I'm glad you called last night to let me know you'd be coming over. Come in.”

Al gestured for me to come in with a wave of his hand, and I stepped into his living room. The gentle sound of piano music wafted around the room like a calming breeze. My eyes looked in the direction of the music. Margaret sat at the piano playing, smiling at me. “Hello, Kay.”

My eyes went wide. What was Margaret doing here?

Al shut the front door. “Margaret, I didn't know you would be here,” I said.

Voices carried from the kitchen. Bill Murphy ambled into the living room with his watery eyes fixed on me. Seeing him, I knew something was wrong. A trap? I headed straight for the front door. The music stopped. Margaret came up to me and said, “I'll get your jacket.”

I wiped a bead of sweat from my upper lip. “I'm not staying long.”

She reached up and grasped my jacket, pulling me away from the door. I reflexively shrugged out of it. Murphy retrieved my coat and purse from Margaret and left the room. Margaret went and sat down on the sofa.

“What's this all about?” I asked, feeling vulnerable with my protective layer gone.

“So,” said Al, smiling on the sofa next to Margaret, “did you think you could get away from us?”

“I don't think I know what you mean,” I said, trying to act relaxed. It was too late to play it cool, but all I could do was try.

“Saturday night in the storeroom. Did you think we wouldn't know it was you?”

“Al, I have no idea what you are talking about,” I said, my voice going up an octave.

“I could smell your perfume in the store, and then, when I danced with you at the Ball, the perfume confirmed it for me. You were there.”

“I wasn't wearing any perfume—”

“Kay, you saw the hooded robe up in my attic,” Margaret said. “You had to nose around. Did you think I wouldn't notice that you had neatly folded it like you did all the other costumes in the larger trunk?”

I glanced at the front door. Through its windows I saw Bill Murphy getting into my car. A few moments later, he was driving down the street. I ran to the front door and started to open it. Al yanked me back and slammed the door shut. Others came in from the kitchen but no one I recognized.

“Have a seat, Kay. I made you a nice cup of tea,” Margaret said. “I know how much you like tea.”

“I don't want any tea.”

Two men in white robes grabbed hold of my arms and dragged me over to the sofa. The light from the piano windows above streamed into my eyes, blinding me as I struggled against them. They pressed me into the sofa and held me there.

Margaret walked over and put the cup to my lips. “Leave me alone!” My pleas became a scream. “I can't believe you'd be a part of this, Margaret! Why?”

I shook my head back and forth, trying to resist. One of the cloaked men reached up and held my face still with his wet, beefy hand on my jaw. Warm bitter tea trickled down my throat. I started coughing. “No...no,” I sputtered. “No more...no more!” Hot tears ran down my cheeks. I managed to get off the sofa and fell to my knees, drowning in tea and fear. I heard the sounds of my own gasping.

A hand on my shoulder, smaller this time, but still firm, shook me with some urgency. “Kay! Kay!” I recognized the voice. What was Phil doing here?
He
was part of this whole thing? Is this why he was so late coming to the Ball? He kept shaking my shoulders.

I woke up suddenly and sat up in bed.

“You're having a bad dream,” Phil said.

I caught my breath as my heart began its slow descent to normal. My nightgown was drenched in sweat. I looked at the alarm clock. Close to midnight. I got a glass of water, and changed my nightgown. I looked in the mirror and saw the same pale face, reminiscent of the one I saw in the mirror the night of the Ball. I went back to bed. Phil was already snoring. I laid with my eyes wide open, afraid to fall back asleep. Afraid the nightmare would continue.

* * * *

It finally started growing light. I got out of bed and drank two cups of black coffee. I needed something stronger than tea this morning. I sat thinking about last night's horrifying dream. I thought about Al's upcoming surprise. What if he, in fact, knew it was me that crashed their meeting in the old store? Should I go over there and get myself stuck in a dangerous situation? It was something to worry about later.

I put on a conservative black, knee length dress and drove over to Deirdre's house. The day was cold and dreary, just like my disposition. Large dark clouds rolled across the sky, a fitting mood for the day. We picked up Elizabeth and continued on to Sherman's funeral at Grace Episcopal.

Just when we opened the door to enter the church, the heavens opened, and gray curtains of rain came down. I could see people running from their cars toward the door.

The church was about a quarter full. “Lots of faculty from the college are here,” Elizabeth whispered to me when we sat down.

“I suppose there would be,” I whispered back. “Elizabeth, before the service begins I wanted to tell you, when Deirdre and I looked over the buildings in the alley after we were at Marissa's, we didn't see anything too unusual, no glass broken or anything like that. The only thing we did notice was at the patisserie. It looked like the back door had a new lock. You could see an outline in the paint on the door where the old lock had been installed.”

“We should ask Marissa about that,” Elizabeth said.

“I plan to.”

“Poor Mary Ann.” Deirdre kept her voice low. “What a lost soul. It looks like she's being physically held up by her parents.”

“Those are Mary Ann's sisters with her and her parents,” Elizabeth said.

Mary Ann did look like she was lost. Even during this solemn occasion, I couldn't help but run through the facts in my mind. Mary Ann seemed pretty cool when answering my questions about Sherman's death a couple of days ago. Sure, she cried a little, but in her shoes I probably wouldn't have been able to even speak. Perhaps Margaret wasn't the only actress in town. Mary Ann said she was at her parents' house, but how did I know for sure? I supposed it would be easy enough to find out. In essence, I had told her I suspected foul play in Sherman's death. If
she
turned out to be one of the hooded six, she might conclude I was the intruder in the vacant store. Could Mary Ann have been involved with this? I would have to be more careful about who I brought into my confidence, going forward.

Looking around, I recognized some of the neighbors who lived down the street. I also saw Dr. Anders and others from the free clinic. He saw me looking at him and smiled. I smiled back. My eyes continued to scan the crowd. I saw Bill Murphy and a few police officers having a laugh about something. It seemed strange, two such different people in the same place, Dr. Anders, who volunteered every week helping the poor in the free clinic, and then Bill Murphy.