Chapter 27
Wynton Marsalis played on the CD player, and she was deep into Pearl Buck’s Pavilion of Women when Professor Morrow called. “Miss Browning,” he said in his somewhat distracted manner, “I hope I’ve not phoned too late.” Theodosia glanced at the baroque brass clock that sat on the pine mantel, saw that it was just half past eight.
“Not at all, Professor Morrow,” she said, sliding a bookmark between the pages and closing her book. Her heart seemed to thump an extra beat in anticipation of his news. “I’m delighted you called. In fact, I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you,” she told him.
“Good, good,” he said. “Took me longer than I thought. But then, everything takes longer these days, doesn’t it? I’m teaching a two-week interim course this June, and Kiplinger, our department head, just now suggested I develop an online syllabus. So of course I had to scramble—”
“What’s the course?” asked Theodosia, trying to be polite.
“Herbaceous perennials,” said Professor Morrow.
“Simple to teach, not a lot to prepare, and students always seem to like it.”
“Great,” said Theodosia. “I really want to thank you for taking time to do this soil analysis.
“Right,” said Professor Morrow, “the analysis.”
Theodosia had a mental picture of Professor Morrow adjusting his glasses and thumbing through his notes, ready to deliver a short lecture to her.
“I ran a standard micronutrient test, measured levels of sulfur, iron, manganese, copper, zinc, and boron. As far as pH level goes, I’d have to say your dirt came from an area where the soil was quite acidic.”
“What kind of plants grow in acidic soil?” asked Theodosia.
“Are we talking flowers or shrubs?” asked Professor Morrow.
Theodosia made an educated guess. “Flowers.” In her mind’s eye, she could imagine someone stepping out into his garden, shoving the point of a trowel into soft, black dirt, then scooping that dirt into a plastic bag to carry to the yacht club.
“Flowers,” said Professor Morrow, weighing the possibilities. “Then you’re talking something like verbena, marigold, calliopsis, or nicotiana. Of course, those varieties are all annuals. In perennials, you’d be looking at baptisia, coreopsis, platycodon, or silene.”
“Wow,” said Theodosia, feeling slightly overwhelmed.
“Of course, roses are also notorious for preferring acidic soil, but you can’t have it too acidic. The demanding little darlings prefer a pH balance somewhere between
5.5 and 6.5. Any more than that, and they get chlorotic.” “What does that mean?” “Their leaves mottle,” said Professor Morrow.
Chapter 28
“It’s a good thing he faxed you his notes,” said Drayton, “otherwise this would be really complicated.”
For the last hour, Drayton had been poring over Professor Morrow’s jottings, checking them against three different gardening books that he’d borrowed from Robillard Booksellers next door. Books, faxes, and pages torn from Drayton’s ledger were strewn on one of the tea shop’s tables. In between waiting on customers and serving fresh-from-the-oven pastries, Haley hovered at the table where Drayton and Theodosia had set up headquarters.
“I’m going to end up buying these books,” Drayton announced. “They’re very good, and I don’t have them in my collection. Just look at this tabular list of garden perennials and this lovely chapter on bridge grafting. You don’t run across information like this every day.”
Earlier, Theodosia had shared Professor Morrow’s findings with Drayton and Haley, and they had both jumped at the chance to be involved in the investigation. Although it felt like they were heading down the right trail, their task also felt slightly daunting. Professor Morrow had given them so many details and possibilities that one almost needed a degree in horticulture to figure everything out.
“Haley, we’re going to need litmus paper,” said Dray-ton. “Can you run down to the drugstore later and pick up a packet?”
“Sure,” she agreed. “You’re still convinced we can get a handle on who might have overpacked that pistol by testing soil from various gardens?”
“And the yacht club,” said Theodosia. “Let’s not forget the yacht club.”
“Right,” said Drayton, then added for Haley’s sake, “this is a gamble that could pay off. We’ve got the results from Professor Morrow’s tests, so that becomes our baseline. Now what we do is check the various soil samples using the soil testing kits we got from Hattie Bootwright’s floral shop down the street.”
“So how exactly are we going to pull this off?” asked Haley. She was almost dancing in place, excited at the prospect of being involved in a full-blown investigation and, at the same time, keeping a watchful eye on her tea shop customers.
“Drayton and I already talked about that,” said Theodosia. “We’ll all be at Timothy Neville’s tonight, so that will serve as a kind of home base.”
“Right,” agreed Drayton. “We’ll work from there. Doe lives half a block away, so we can easily scout her garden and obtain a sample.”
“You’re sure she’ll be at Timothy’s tonight?” asked Haley.
“Absolutely,” said Drayton. “In fact, she’ll be attending with Giovanni Loard. He called me yesterday about a silver teapot someone brought into his shop, and he mentioned that he’d be there. If you remember, his garden is on tomorrow night’s tour. So he’s very excited about the entire Garden Fest event.”
“He’s not still mad about the other day?” asked Theodosia.
“Never mentioned it,” said Drayton.
“Okay then,” said Theodosia, getting back to business. “Booth Crowley lives two blocks away on Tradd Street, so his garden should be an easy hit as well. We know he’ll be there tonight, since his wife Beatrix serves on one of the Garden Fest committees with Delaine.”
“Perfect,” said Drayton, rubbing his hands together.
“What about Billy Manolo and Ford Cantrell?” asked Haley. “I thought they were on your hot list, too.”
“They are,” said Theodosia, “but Billy Manolo doesn’t really have a yard. Well, he does, but almost every square inch is littered with pieces of iron or covered with finished metalwork. We can drop by the yacht club, though, that’s easy enough.”
“And I guess it would be difficult to check Ford Cantrell’s place, since he lives on a huge plantation,” said Haley. “You wouldn’t even know where to start.” She turned to scan the tearoom, saw out the window that one of the yellow tour jitneys had just let off a load of tourists, and they were making a beeline for the tea shop.
“I guess we’ll just work with what we’ve got,” said Haley as she headed for the door to greet their new customers.
“Actually,” said Theodosia, once Haley was out of earshot, “it’s not all we’ve got.”
Drayton turned his head sharply to stare at Theodosia. Something in her tone told him she might be hatching another idea. “What do you mean?” he asked warily.
Theodosia bent close to Drayton’s ear and began to whisper. And as she did, a look of astonishment flickered across his face. When she was done, he gazed at her with admiration.
“It’s a jolly good brazen plan, all right,” said Drayton. “The question is, will it work?”
Theodosia lifted her shoulders imperceptibly. “It might flush out a fox or two.”
“It’s also dangerous,” he said, adding a sober note to the conversation.
“Agreed,” said Theodosia, “But that’s also why I like it.” She frowned. “Trouble is, the whole plan would hinge on Timothy Neville’s cooperation. Do you think we can persuade him to go along with us? And especially at such short notice?”
“You leave Timothy to me,” advised Drayton. “I can be very convincing when I have to. And since elections at the Heritage Society are coming up soon, and Timothy is lobbying strongly for reelection as president, he might just listen carefully to what I have to say. So you go call Lizbeth Cantrell and arrange for her to come up with some creative ruse to have her brother present at the party tonight. And leave Timothy Neville to me.”