The volunteer firemen found Mavis' predicament hilarious. Herbie Minstead and his crew winched Mavis off the balcony with the fire truck ladder, and shaking their heads, left for the Croh Bar and a restorative glass of beer at Quill's expense. Myles and two of his uniformed officers were exploring the balcony. Mrs. Hallenbeck sat upright and disapproving by the open French doors. Meg jigged from one foot to the other in a corner with John Raintree. Doc Bishop, the young internist who treated most of Hemlock Falls, bent over Mavis. Clearly suppressing his amusement, he straightened up and wiped a bit of blood off his surgical gloves with one of the expensive peach towels from the bathroom.
"Is she going to be all right?" asked Quill. "Scrapes and bruises; that's about it. No evidence of oxygen deprivation. She wasn't high enough." He grinned. Quill looked at him in exasperation; his expression sobered. "Sorry, Quill. It could have been a real tragedy. If her belt hadn't caught onto the joist like it did, she could have gone into the river, but it is ten feet deep there. She would have floated like a cork down to the sluiceway and been able to climb out."
Quill dropped to her knees beside Mavis. Her knees were scraped and bloody, the tom pantyhose gritty with concrete dust from the balcony. Her cheeks were scratched, her makeup smeared, and her expression furious.
"Can you talk about it?" asked Quill gently.
"I done tol' you," Mavis snapped, her Southern accent deepening to incomprehensibility. "I went out for some fresh air. I leaned against that old railing. Next thang I knew, I pitched into the air."
"You eat too much," said Mrs. Hallenbeck, and whether this was referring to Mavis' expensive dinner or her general size, Quill wasn't too sure. Mavis gave her employer a furious glare.
"And then Mrs. Hallenbeck came out and tied you to the balcony with a sheet."
"I like to choked, she tied that sheet so tight."
"You may have saved her life, Mrs. Hallenbeck," said Quill, stretching the truth in pursuit of making everyone feel better. "You were very brave. Very quick thinking."
Mrs. Hallenbeck lifted her chin and smiled complacently. "I have often been complimented on my presence of mind."
"I can swim," Mavis muttered. "I told her just to lemme go!"
There was more to Mavis, Quill decided, than had previously met the eye.
Quill wondered if she should send John downstairs for a brandy for everyone. They all looked as though they needed it.
Myles prowled in from the balcony and drew Andy Bishop to one side. He shook hands with Doc Bishop, then came over and sat next to Mavis. "You had just the glass of white wine for dinner, Mrs. Collinwood?"
"I am not in the habit of overindulgence, Sheriff."
"Huh!" said Mrs. Hallenbeck. "She's fortv pounds overweight if she's ten, and that is a result of overindulgence. At, I may add, my expense." She lifted her chin again and fixed Myles with The Glare. Quill, admiring, noticed he was totally unaffected. "I believe, Sheriff, that we need to discuss the negligence in this case. I may have to call my lawyer in the morning."
Quill glanced at John and raised both eyebrows. He nodded with quick understanding, then moved unobtrusively around the room. Just one small Thermos bottle filled with Rusty Nails, thought Quill, preferably a large one.
"You were in the bathroom, Mrs. Hallenbeck?" asked Myles.
Mrs. Hallenbeck nodded. "That is correct. I was brushing my teeth. I heard a rumbling sound, then a squall like a scalded cat. I rushed from the bathroom to the balcony. Poor Mavis was swaying over the gorge. I tugged at her to help her back onto what was left of the balcony. I myself was beginning to slip." She closed her eyes momentarily, her face pale. "If I had slipped! Sometimes I think that God has taken a personal interest in me, Sheriff, and as you see, I did not. Well, I quickly saw that I was far too frail to pull that great creature up myself..."
"Not quick enough," Mavis muttered. "I was out there hours."
"... so I stripped the sheet from that bed, tied it around her waist, and called the front desk."
"A tragedy averted," said Andy Bishop, solemn now; he had finished repacking his little black bag, and may have been regretting his earlier lightheartedness. He scribbled for a moment on his prescription pad, tore off two sheets, and held out the prescription and a small box of pills to Mavis. "I'm giving you both some Valium. These are samples to take until you can get to the pharmacy tomorrow. You're going to be stiff tomorrow, Mrs. Collinwood. And so will you, Mrs. Hallenbeck, after those exertions."
"I never take drugs," said Mrs. Hallenbeck, "nor do my employees."
Mavis tucked the samples into her purse and said, "Thank you, Doctor. I believe I will take advantage of your kind offer."
Andy Bishop picked up his bag. "I'll leave you ladies now. Stop by my office, Mrs. Collinwood, if you feel the need." He gave Quill a brief hug, nodded to Myles, and walked to the door opening onto the hallway.
"Doctor!" commanded Mrs. Hallenbeck. "You will send your bill to Ms. Quilliam. This entire affair is the responsibility of the Inn."
Quill glanced quickly at John. He nodded reluctantly. "Of course, Andy," she said. "I'm so sorry this happened, Mavis."
Myles, who had been leaning against the mantel with a thoughtful expression, said, "Sarah, maybe you and John could move Mrs. Hallenbeck and Mrs. Collinwood to a different room."
"Why?" Quill asked. "Myles, the Inn is booked to the gills in two days for History Week. There isn't any place we can put them but here, after Sunday."
"I'm going to seal off the room until the investigation is completed."
"Maybe they'll be gone by then," said John, surprisingly ungracious. "Come on, Sarah. Mrs. Hallenbeck, we'll take you down to two-fourteen. I'll see that your luggage is packed up and brought down."
"Where we began," said Mrs. Hallenbeck. "I am assuming the rest of our stay will be free of charge. And we do intend, Mr. Raintree, to stay the entire week."
Quill, distracted, watched them go. "Myles - how long is this going to take? And what kind of investigation? I'll have to have the insurance company in to look at it, of course, but it's just the balcony, for Pete's sake."
"I want to show you something."
Quill looked at her watch; after midnight. She yawned suddenly. "Can't we do this in the morning, Myles?"
"Now."
Quill followed him out to the balcony. The July night was soft, the moon a silvery half crescent over the Falls. The northwest edge of the balcony gaped, bent and broken, just as it had when she'd looked at it before.
"Look at this." Using his handkerchief to protect the wrought-iron surface, Myles gently rocked one of the posts free from the edge of the concrete.
Quill peered at it in the half-light from the suite behind them. "The mortar's all crumbled away," she said. "What do you think the insurance company's going to want me to do? Should I call the architect?"
"Look at it, Quill."
She reached out to touch the mortar. Myles caught her hand gently and moved it aside. "It's eaten away," she said.