As it was, Mim struggled valiantly with the garden club to accept her plans for filling downtown Crozet with profusions of flowers for the spring, summer, and fall bolstered by masses of holly, pyracantha, and Scotch pine for the winter. Her master plan for the town was stunning and everyone admitted that Crozet needed help. But money could never be found in the town budget and Mim, generous though she was, felt strongly that if the plan didn't generate community support she wasn't going to cough up the funds. She'd enlisted Miranda's aid and if she could interest Harry and Harry's generation, she thought she just might pull it off.
Harry and Mim walked out the back door as Tracy walked in the front door. He'd finished his errands and returned to see Miranda.
Mrs. Murphy got up, stretched, and followed Harry out.
Tucker, exhaling loudly, did the same. Pewter, sound asleep, didn't even open an eye when Miranda picked her up, gently placing her in an empty mail cart.
The two humans and two animals stood before the blue dumpster. It was unsightly but at least it had a lid on it. Having it open would have been a lot worse.
Mim used her right hand. "Swing the dumpster around like so. He can still use it with ease but it will free up more space. The palisade on the alley side could swing out or roll back for transfer."
"If it swings out it will block traffic."
"How much traffic is on this alleyway," Mim snipped, then thought a minute. "You're right. If it rolls straight along, it will block his parking lot for a minute but the alley will be free. 'Course, the truck will be in it anyway. However, I take your point and think rollers toward us is a better idea. Did you think perhaps planter tubs on the parking lot side?"
"No. I thought since that palisade part is stable why not build three tiers and fill them with geraniums, petunias, and even ivy that could spill over."
"Now that is a good idea." Mim's eyes brightened. "It will add to the expense."
"He's got a daughter in college." Harry need say no more.
"H-m-m, I'll think of something."
"Something's not right." Tucker lifted her nose and sniffed deeply.
Mrs. Murphy, nose not as sensitive, also smelled blood. "Let me jump up."
"Lid's closed." Tucker barked loudly.
"Maybe we can get them to open it." Murphy soared onto the slanted lid, sliding a bit but quickly jumping over to the flat side. "I smell blood, too. Maybe there's a beef carcass. I'll get some of it for you," Murphy promised her grounded friend.
"No, this isn't beef, sheep, or chicken. This is human," Tucker adamantly barked.
Mrs. Murphy thought a minute, then said, "Together."
The cat and dog howled in unison. The humans looked at them as Pewter hurried out the animal door to the post office. "What's going on?"
"Come up here."
She leapt up next to Mrs. Murphy, sliding down harder than the slender cat. Harry caught her.
"Yell," Mrs. Murphy directed.
Pewter bellowed. She surprised Harry so much that she dropped her. The cat shook herself, then leapt up again. This time she managed to get over to the flat side. "Uh-oh." She smelled it, too.
All three of them hollered for all they were worth.
"What's gotten into them?" Mim put her hand on her hip, then reached over and lifted up the slanted lid. She dropped the lid with a thud reverberating throughout the alley and sending the two cats off the dumpster. She took a faltering step back. Harry reached out to catch her.
Mim's face, bone-white, frightened Harry, who at first thought the older woman might have suffered a heart attack or stroke. Mim moved her lips but nothing came out. She pointed to the dumpster lid.
"Are you all right?"
Mim nodded her head. "Yes." Then she took a deep breath and opened the lid again.
"Oh, my God!" Harry exclaimed.
23
Sitting on top of the squad car, Mrs. Murphy laconically commented, "Could have been worse."
The assemblage by the dumpster would have disagreed with her if they had understood what she was saying. Mim called her husband, Jim, the mayor. He rushed over. Tracy put his arm around Miranda's waist. She was upset but holding together.
As luck would have it, Marcy Wiggins and Chris Sharpton had stopped by to pick up their mail. Fair Haristeen had also come to the P.O. Marcy fainted and Chris, with Fair's help, carried her into Market's air-conditioned store. Market, rushing around the store, revived her with a spot of brandy. As soon as she was somewhat recovered he hurried back outside again.
"In my dumpster!" He wrung his hands.
Tucker, as close to the dumpster as she could get without being in the way, asked Pewter, "What did the body look like when you first could see in?"
Pewter peered down from the limb of the pin oak where she was reposing. She wanted a different view than Mrs. Murphy. "Leo's mouth was open and so were his eyes. He'd stiffened up but it wasn't too bad yet. They'll have a hell of a time getting him out of there now."
"What I meant was, can you see how he was killed?" the dog persisted.
"Right between the eyes. Like Charlie Ashcraft," Pewter informed her with some relish.
"Flies are what made the humans sick." Murphy watched intently. "They're in the dumpster so they crawled all over him but really, it could have been worse. He's not been dead half a day." She was matter-of-fact about these matters, but then, cats are.
Rick and Cynthia, having finished their work, had to turn to Jim Sanburne, the crowd growing by the minute behind the yellow tape. "Jim, I prefer they leave but I doubt they will so keep them back. If they break through the tape they may compromise evidence. Can you call in anyone to help you?"
Tracy stepped forward. "Sheriff, Tracy Raz, I can help."
Tracy was off in the service when Rick was young so he didn't remember him, but he knew the Raz name. "Thank you."
"I'll help, too." Fair towered over the other two men.
Tracy, accustomed to command, faced the murmuring crowd, some with handkerchiefs to their mouths. "Folks, I know this is extremely upsetting to you all but please leave. The more of us that crowd around, the more possibility that valuable evidence will be destroyed. Sheriff Shaw is doing all he can right now and he needs your help."
"Come on, gang." Fair gently shepherded his friends and neighbors back down the alleyway.
As people walked slowly they turned to see what else was happening. The last thing they saw was a big blue truck, Batten Services, come down the lane with Joe Batten emerging, his assistant and cousin, Harvey Batten, along with him. He ran the trash-removal company and he was going to take off the door to the dumpster so they could remove the body.
"You girls go back into the post office," Tracy soothingly directed, "because that's where people will gather and they'll need you to keep your heads."
"Quite right." Miranda nodded. Violent death shocked her. But she'd seen enough death in her life to accept it as inevitable, although she never could accept violence.
The cats and dog stayed at the scene of the crime. No one paid attention to them because they were careful to stay out of the way, even though Mrs. Murphy brazenly sat on top of Rick's squad car.
Joe glanced at the body, pulled a heavy wrench from his leather tool belt around his waist, and started turning a nut. "Harvey, you crippled?"
Harvey swallowed hard, walked over, and crouched down to work on the bottom bolt. He was eye-level with the loafers on the corpse but he did not look inside.
As the men worked, Diana Robb and the rescue squad crept down the alleyway, clogged with cars. The people moved away but they'd left their cars.
Diana hopped out, marched up to the opened dumpster, and peered inside. "Like Charlie. Powder burns."
"Uh-huh," Rick noncommittally grunted.
"You ready for us?" She noticed the crushed green and orange 7 Up cartons under the body.