On top of Addie's clothes rested a Queen of Diamonds.
When Harry finally walked into her kitchen at 2:30 a.m. and saw Susan, all the horrors of the day, which now seemed years ago, began to spill out. Susan had heard about Addie's accident on the radio and had waited at the farm to talk to her friend.
The two dear friends sat down at the kitchen table. Harry told her that Chark was under suspicion but hadn't been arrested.
"So you see, Sargent Wilcox is Nigel and it was Sargent who, along with Coty Lamont, buried Marylou Valiant." Tucker lay down nose to nose with Mrs. Murphy, flat out on her stomach.
"And you say this Jack Russell met Nigel in Bozeman, Montana?" Mrs. Murphy gently swished her tail back and forth like a slender reed in slowly moving water. "Not that I would put much faith in anything a Jack Russell says, but still—"
"This was a reputable Russell, not one of those yappers."
"Oh, you'll stick up for any dog."
"No, I won't. You've never heard me say anything good about a Chihuahua, have you?"
The cat allowed as to how that was a fact. She flicked her pink tongue over her black lips. "Apart from ZeeZee Thompson, no one there knows that Nigel Danforth is Sargent Wilcox."
"No," Tucker said, "but that's not all. Mrs. Hogendobber and Mim— Jim, too—were upset about a St. Christopher's medal Addie wore after the first race."
"Why?"
"It was her mother's. No one has seen it since Marylou disappeared."
"Maybe that's why Coty Lamont was digging"—she paused—"except he didn't reach the body. Oh, this is giving me a headache!"
"Whoever had the St. Christopher's medal has had it for the last five years. And you know what else?" Tucker panted. "Someone put the Queen of Diamonds in Addie's gear bag."
Mrs. Murphy put her paws over her eyes, "Tucker, this is terrible."
"Son of a bitch!" Rick Shaw exploded.
"You couldn't have known." Cynthia offered him a cigarette. He snatched one out of the pack.
"He's playing with us." He lit his cigarette and clenched so hard on the weed that he bit it in half, sending the burning tip falling into his crotch. He batted out the fire.
Cynthia, too, smacked at the glowing tip. "Sorry." He paused a minute, then glanced down at her hand in his crotch. "Ah—I'm sure there's something I could say to cover this situation, but I can't think of it right now." He dropped the stub in the ashtray.
Cynthia lit him another cigarette. "Don't bite, just inhale."
It was five in the morning and they circled the growing city of Charlotte with ease—too early for traffic. Rick and Cynthia had stayed to assist the Camden police since the crimes in their respective jurisdictions were most likely linked. The Camden police had insisted on booking Charles Valiant on suspicion of attempted murder. Rick finally let them, figuring twenty-four hours in Camden's jail would be twenty-four hours in which they would know Chark's whereabouts. Arthur would free him on bail early Monday morning.
"The Queen of Diamonds! Son of a bitch!"
"Boss, you've been saying that for the last hour and a half. There's one bloody queen left and—"
"Bloody queen is right. I know this guy will strike again, I know it. If only I could figure out the significance of the cards." He slammed the dash.
"Your blood pressure's going to go through the roof."
"Shut up and drive!" He glowered out the window and then turned to her. "I'm sorry."
"It's a bitch. I never saw it coming, either," she said sympathetically.
"If we only knew what they had in common."
"Jockeys."
"Not enough." He shook his head.
"They all knew one another."
"Yes." He began to breathe a bit more regularly.
"They're all young people."
"Yes."
"They owed money to Mickey Townsend. They all used cocaine."
"Yes." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. "Oh, Coop, it's staring me right in the face and I can't see it."
It was a subdued group that gathered at Miranda's on Sunday night: Harry, Rick Shaw, and Cynthia Cooper, plus Pewter, Mrs. Murphy, and Tucker.
The big news from Camden was that Addie had suffered a severe concussion. The doctors, afraid that her brain would swell, insisted on keeping her in the hospital for two more days. She'd also broken her collarbone. Given what could have happened, the consensus was that she was a lucky woman. And a rich one. She had attained her majority.
The Camden police, in a burst of efficiency, arrested Mickey Townsend on suspicion of the murders of Nigel Danforth and Coty Lamont. A pack of cards found tucked in his car's side pocket was missing the queens of clubs, spades, and diamonds. A stiletto rested under the seat of his silver BMW.
He protested his innocence. He'd be sent up to Ablemarle County as soon as the paperwork was completed between Rick's department and Camden 's. Rick didn't protest the Camden police holding Mickey. Secretly, he felt Mickey'd be safer in custody.
Harry told Rick she didn't think Mickey was the killer. The gambling debts, though sizable, weren't large enough to kill over, and Mickey wasn't that stupid.
Rick, hands interlocking over his stomach, listened. "You don't buy Charles Valiant as the murderer?"
All said, "No."
Cynthia added, "Bazooka wasn't doped. The blood tests came back negative. Fair was on the ball to pull blood."
"Rick, what haven't you told us?" Miranda addressed him in familiar fashion as she offered him one of her famous scones.
Delicately he bit off a piece and chewed before answering. "I know that Mickey Townsend followed Coty Lamont to Mim's stable on the night of Coty's death. He admits to pulling a gun on Coty and marching him out of there. He swears he didn't kill him."
"Why was he in Mim's stable?" Miranda picked up her knitting needles then dropped them in the basket.
"That I don't know. Coty was digging in a stall in the back. Said he would pay Mickey when he unearthed the treasure, well, I don't think those were his exact words. He told me that at Camden yesterday. Lord, it seems like a week ago." He wiped his forehead. "Guess we'd better visit the stable."
At the mention of Mim's stable, Mrs. Murphy sprang to her feet. "Go crazy! Run around! Bark! Steal a scone! We've got to let them know they need to go over there right now!"
Mrs. Murphy ran toward the wall, banked off it then jumped clean over Mrs. Hogendobber's laden tea trolley, narrowly missing the steaming tea pot.
"I say—" Miranda's mouth fell agape.
"Go to the stable! Go to the stable now!" Tucker barked.
Pewter, lacking in the speed department, hurried to the center of the living room, rolled over, displayed her gargantuan tummy, and said, "Pay attention to us! Right now, you stupid mammals!"
Tucker ran in faster circles and Mrs. Murphy ran with her. Pewter jumped up, considered jumping over the tea trolley, realized she couldn't and instead leapt on the armchair and patted Harry's cheek.
"Harry, these animals are tetched," Miranda finally sputtered.
"No, we're not. We know what's in Orion's stall. We've known for days, but we haven't been able to tell you. You're on track now. GO TO THE STABLE!" Mrs. Murphy lifted her exquisite head to heaven and yowled.
Harry stood up and walked over to the cat who eluded her grasp. "Calm down, Murph."
"Maybe she's got rabies." Miranda drew back.
"You say that any time an animal gets excited. She's cutting a shine. Aren't you, Murphy?"
"No, I am not."
"Me neither. Listen to us," Pewter pleaded.
"Murphy, I'm exhausted. Can I stop now?" Tucker continued circling the humans.
"Sure."
The dog conveniently dropped by the tea trolley where some crumbs had fallen on the rug.