Jane and Shelley were the last ones to be called for their interview — and the only ones to be called in together. Taylor was in a small office near the kitchen that they hadn't seen on their tour. It was apparently where Benson did his bookkeeping and kept office supplies and guest ledgers. The desk was covered with the yellow legal-pad sheets they'd filled out earlier.
“Ladies, I'm going to make a leap of faith with you," Taylor said. "I got a call from a" — he rummaged through his notes—"a Detective Mel Van-Dyne, who is apparently a friend of yours you told about finding the first body. He was checking on your welfare, being unable to reach you by phone, and assures me that neither of you could be involved in this. I'm going to have to take his word for that."
“Thank you — I think," Jane said.
“Sorry, but I'm past good manners," Taylor said. "Now I'd like for you ladies to look over these other accounts and see if there are errors that you know of. Somebody who said they were somewhere you don't believe they were.”
Most of the accounts were brief and vague. Apparently during questioning, Taylor had pinned a few of them down on times a little better because there were notations in the margins.
Not surprisingly, Al Flowers's was the skimpiest. Fie was a man of few words. He'd eaten lunch early, taken a nap, gone for a walk and, true to Liz's con- stant predictions, gotten thoroughly lost, but finally found himself at the far side of the Conference Center. He'd seen his wife walking hard on her heels toward the lodge and deliberately dawdled so he wouldn't catch up with her. He didn't wear a watch and had no idea what time it was then. Maybe two or three. Maybe later. Didn't see or hear anyone else.
Liz, in contrast, had detailed every moment. She recounted her mysterious brush with the person in the falcon costume, her return to the lodge, and eventually finding Al sitting in a rocker on the porch. She dragged him along on a hit-and-run investigation of the last session of classes.
Bob Rycraft said he'd attended a volleyball class right after lunch, then retold his version of losing track of Liz on their walk, getting lost, falling in the creek, returning to his cabin briefly, and coming back to the lodge to find Liz, after which he went back to his cabin and soaked in the bathtub until dinnertime.
“This person in the falcon costume is important, isn't it?" Jane asked the sheriff.
“I think so. Keep reading.”
Eileen had lunch and went to the class session on beadwork, thinking she might learn something valuable to her business. Shelley confirmed this. Then Eileen said she went back to the cabin, thoroughly chilled, took a long, hot bath, visited briefly with Marge (who was in her bathrobe), and went to the lodge looking for John. Didn't find him there, didn't want to roam around the woods, so went back to their cabin, where he was reading the paper. Moments later, a sheriff's deputy arrived to ask John to come identify his brother's body. Eileen and Johnhad gone to comfort Marge, been rebuffed by the police, fretted for half an hour, and returned to Marge's cabin, demanding to see her. She'd spent the rest of the day with Marge.
John reported that he had a late lunch, felt sleepy and tried to take a nap, but the bathroom faucet had a persistent drip, so he went out to their luxuriously equipped van and fell asleep there. He woke when he heard someone walking by, whistling, and went inside the cabin, where Eileen found him reading the paper.
Benson had a detailed account and collaboration from the staff, except for a brief period between two and three when he said he went for a walk, just for the sake of peace and quiet.
Allison said she hadn't left their private quarters all afternoon.
The kitchen staff all backed each other up for the entire afternoon.
Edna had apparently been difficult and refused to go into detail on her activities except to say that she had already confessed to her foolish tricks and had nothing to do with anybody getting killed. She also pointed out that she didn't have to talk to the police without an attorney present.
“You don't find that suspicious?" Shelley asked. Taylor shook his head. "She'd already embarrassed herself in front of me, and I think she was angry with everyone else about it. I could be wrong, of course, but I've known Edna for a couple years and this is typical of her haughty act she puts on from time to time when things aren't going her way." Jane waited until Shelley had finished reading the last sheet, then said to the sheriff, "I'd have to study this again to be sure, but it looks to me like nobody is very reliable about what went on between two and three.”
Taylor nodded. "That's true. That's why I was hoping you could substantiate any one of these stories."
“Only Eileen," Shelley said. "She was in a class with me at two o'clock."
“But you left not long after it started — when Mrs. Jeffry came to get you, right?" Taylor asked.
“Yes, and she could have left right afterwards as far as I'd know.”
Jane flipped back through the pages. "During that time, Liz and Bob are getting lost and having adventures with the falcon person — or people. John Clay-pool's sleeping in his van. Eileen left the class at some point and went to soak in a hot tub. Benson's taking a solitary walk. Allison is fixing my laptop, though it could have taken her only a few minutes. Al's lost in the woods. Edna's not saying where she was.”
Taylor nodded. "Right. About the only people who weren't 'missing' in some fashion were you and Mrs. Nowack. And the kids working in the kitchen.”
Twenty-two
"what What about Marge?" Shelley asked.
“She didn't write it out, but says she and Henry McCoy went back to their cabin and he went off on a mysterious errand, promising to return in a few minutes. He never came back, she never left. According to her, that is.”
Jane handed back the papers. "I'm really sorry we're not more help."
“Not half as sorry as I am for not taking you seriously when you claimed you'd found a body the first time." He rose wearily from his chair and said, "If you're ready to go, I'll have my deputy see you home."
“Speaking of home — our real home, that is," Jane said, "any chance of us leaving tomorrow like we were supposed to?”
He nodded. "Possible. Got a National Guard group putting in an AVLB."
“A what?" Jane asked.
“An Assault Vehicle Launched Bridge. It's more or less a tank with a folded-up bridge on top. They drive it into the creek bed and unfold the bridge. Two murders are officially considered an emergency. It'll take months to clear up the paperwork on the bridge, and the deaths will generate official forms for years." He put his head in his hands, muttering.
The deputy led them out of the room and waited while they picked up their belongings, with the rest of the group watching. "They probably think we're being hauled off to jail," Shelley said under her breath.
“Good. Let them think whatever they want," Jane said. "I think I'd rather be in a nice, safe jail than here. I want Aunt Bea to bring me breakfast on a tray.”
The deputy tried to hide his smile.
He checked out their cabin so well, they nearly went mad, looking in closets, under beds, even in drawers, as if he suspected a bomb. He went out on the deck and examined the surroundings with a monster flashlight that could have done duty in a moderate-sized lighthouse.