Mel was surprised that the cost of the box was as great a concern as what was in it. For people who could take month-long vacations, the price of a safety-deposit box shouldn't have mattered.
The bank employee put in her key and turned it. Mel did the same with one that had been found in Denny's billfold. The bank employee left the room.
Mel pulled a bag of latex gloves out of his briefcase and cut it open.
"What are you doing that for?" Mrs. Roth asked.
"Fingerprints. We have no idea what documents are in here. I'll have to look at them first, if that's all right with you." His tone made it clearthat this was the way it would be done no matter what their answer was.
Harry said, "It's okay with me."
Mel pulled out the small box, took one of the enclosures, opened it, and pulled out two folded pieces of paper. He opened the smaller one with a pair of tweezers he'd pulled out of his pocket. He turned to the Roths. "It's his original birth certificate with names of his birth parents. Do you want to read it?"
Harry was firm. "No. We didn't want to know that when we adopted him and we still don't want to know."
Mrs. Roth hesitated, looking at her husband for a long moment. Then said, "I agree. But what is the other paper?"
"It's a photocopy of the same thing. Without the seal. I'll need to keep both of these. If you change your minds sometime, I can provide them to you." He put the documents in a large envelope.
There was another packet at the back of the box — a fat unsealed envelope — which Mel gingerly opened with the tweezers. It was full of cash. He also put this in his envelope. "There's quite a bit of cash," Mel told the Roths. "I'll need to have it fingerprinted before turning it over to you.
"How much cash?" Mrs. Roth asked.
"After it's fingerprinted, I'll have it counted in the presence of myself and two other witnesses
and let you know how much it is as soon as I can. Would you like it converted into a cashier's check and sent to you via FedEx with copies of the witnesses' signatures?"
"How will we know that some of it hasn't gone missing before being counted?" Mrs. Roth asked.
"You'll know because I'm not going to steal it. I'm an honorable person."
Mel removed his gloves and threw them in a handy wastebasket. He put the box back into the slot and turned the key, handing it to Mr. Roth.
"You can take this back to the woman waiting outside the room and I'll sign off on the box."
As it turned out, Denny had already paid for a six-month rental and had only opened the account a month earlier, so the woman in charge gave him a refund check, which he made a copy of and signed over to the Roths.
"I'll be back in touch with you as soon as these are processed."
"Processed? What do you mean?" Mrs. Roth asked curtly.
"Studied for fingerprints, as I already told you," Mel replied just as sharply.
He walked out of the bank, already on his cell phone, and left them to find their way back to their hotel.
Shelley drove her minivan to the dress rehearsal because she wanted to see that the cocktail snacks
were being set up well before anyone else arrived. She was immediately impressed with this caterer. There were half a dozen workers, all in clean pressed white shirts, black trousers, and red bow ties. They all wore clean white gloves. They had set up several steel containers over Sterno candles. The containers were all lidded.
Plates of cold food covered with plastic wrap were also put out on the serving tables they'd set up, which were draped in the same red as their ties. There was no seating for the guests. But small trash cans were set up all around the perimeter of the lobby. The forks and spoons laid out were of sturdy silver-colored plastic. The head chef was wandering around supervising, reminding all his employees to smile.
Shelley greeted him and asked if she could look behind the tables. The owner himself lifted the draping to show her the shelves below holding extra containers of food.
There were small canapés with smoked salmon, tuna salad, or seared vegetables, topped with tiny blobs of caviar, and an equal number without the caviar for those who didn't like it. Attendees weren't allowed to serve themselves the caviar. There were servings of delicious-smelling sausages with parsley, and several sauces for them in small white dishes with little spoons.
Several of the heated dishes were mixed vegetables cut cleverly, and there was one of Jane's
favorite dishes — scalloped potatoes, with a dusting of paprika. In addition, there was a vast assortment of rolls. Some with salt, some with caraway seeds, some with celery seed, and many plain. The desserts were still in the trucks, being kept hot or cold as needed, the owner explained.
The napkins were generously sized and looked almost like real cloth. They were stamped with red stars. Shelley was impressed.
Jane had eaten at home before dressing and arrived shortly after Shelley. She was followed by members of the cast and crew and the honored guests Evelyn Chance had invited. The servers greeted them with smiles and started serving.
"This whole room smells heavenly," Jane said to Shelley. "I've already eaten but the aroma is making me hungry again."
Mel soon arrived, and Professor Imry came last. The doors were then locked to prevent casual pedestrians from joining the party.
A separate table was set up for drinks. Everyone had been given a chit for one free drink, and a list of the cost for second rounds was posted behind the table. Jane used her chit for a Coke. Shelley opted for white wine.
Mel, apologizing to Jane for cutting her short on the phone earlier, went through the buffet line with her. He kept his conversation bland and cheerful, and so did Jane.
For about a half hour, people mingled and ate,chatting excitedly about the play. Then the serving tables started being cleared, full wastebaskets were replaced with fresh ones, the desserts arrived, and one waiter was dispatched to collect dishes, napkins, and glasses from windowsills where they'd been left. Some of the guests passed on desserts and started going into the theater. The cast and crew had already withdrawn to the back of the theater. The only people left were Jane, Shelley, Ms. Chance and her special guests, and the catering staff. Even Mel had disappeared.
Twenty-four
They all sat through the dress rehearsal, except for Shelley, who stayed behind to see to it that the caterers cleaned up, and made sure the yummiest leftovers were put in her minivan.
The play had been promoted as a "whimsical 1930s-style mystery," but the only thing approaching humor, much less whimsy, were the remarks that the butler made to the audience. Everybody found them funny. Imry was furious, of course. The last thing he'd said to the cast was that Cecil, the butler, wasn't to improvise.
The costumes looked fabulous and even Jane felt compelled to tell Tazz what a great job she'd done. It was hard to find her. Tazz had deliberately stayed as far away from Jane and Shelley as she could. She hadn't even turned up for the party in the lobby.
Ms. Bunting was by far the best thing about the play. She played Edina Weston with wry dignity and energy, and was clearly the star. John Buntingactually seemed almost sober. He said all his lines without slurring a single word. He didn't have to put his hand on the back of the sofa or his elbow on the mantel to keep himself upright.
Jane knew Ms. Bunting had to have been responsible for this unusual behavior, and wondered how she'd kept him from drinking.
When the play ended, the small audience seemed surprised. There was some muttering. Jane overheard one of Ms. Chance's contributors saying, "This must be fixed, Evelyn. There's no resolution to the plot. Why did the butler murder the younger son?"