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“No, me neither,” I said. As a rule I don’t like anyone who doesn’t like me. It seems fair that way. Though I probably should have made an exception for Miss Power, as she couldn’t help being allergic to cats. Then again, for a woman who owned a dog it was very strange that she would be allergic to us, and not her silly mutt. Although someone had once told me that there are dog breeds that don’t trigger an allergic reaction in humans who are otherwise allergic to anything with four legs and plenty of fur on top.

“Let’s go around the back,” I suggested. “Check out this place.” And of course report back to Odelia when we were through.

And maybe, just maybe, find that elusive bite to eat.

Chapter 23

Odelia was properly impressed as she took a seat in the opulently appointed sitting room, where Maria Power had taken her guests. She could tell from their demeanor that both Chase and Uncle Alec were equally intimidated by being in the presence of greatness, as they were uncharacteristically quiet.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” asked the actress, adopting a formal tone, her face displaying no emotion whatsoever.

She looked very well preserved for her age, Odelia thought as she studied the woman. She was seventy now, having retired when she was in her late fifties, after an illustrious career, but she could hardly detect any wrinkles on her smooth brow, and only a few crow’s feet around the eyes and a certain thinness of skin that revealed her age. And the gray hair, of course, which she wore in a short bob.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, Miss Power,” said Chase, taking charge of the interview, as Uncle Alec seemed too tongue-tied to proceed, “but there has been a series of dramatic incidents in town. First a woman was found murdered in Dan Goory’s office—Dan is the editor of the Hampton Cove Gazette, and also, and probably more importantly, the president of the Gnomeos, a fan club dedicated to your work. Then this morning Jack Warner was murdered. Jack was the president of the Maria Power Society. Both Heather Gallop and Jack Warner were bludgeoned to death with a garden gnome, and in both instances the most likely suspect seems to be Dan Goory.”

“So the head of one of my fan clubs killed the head of another club. How strange,” said Miss Power, tilting her head to one side a little and displaying a slight smile.

“Well, we have reason to believe the case is more complicated than that,” Chase continued. “You see, the murder of Jack Warner was witnessed by a hotel cleaner, and soon after she made a statement to that effect she was found dead.”

Miss Power lifted one eyebrow fractionally. “Also murdered by Mr. Goory, I presume?”

“Well, no. She fell down the stairs and broke her neck.”

“An accident. How unfortunate.” She paused. “I still don’t see what all this has to do with me.”

“Well, we have reason to believe that Mr. Goory may be innocent.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I’ve known Dan a long time,” said Odelia. “You see I work for him, and I find it hard to believe he would suddenly have turned into a serial killer overnight.”

“Most people have hidden depths and I’m sure your Mr. Goory is no different.” The actress turned to Uncle Alec. “Do you also believe that Mr. Goory is innocent of these crimes, Chief Lip?”

Uncle Alec hemmed and hawed for a moment, clearing his throat noisily, then finally confessed, “All the evidence seems to point to him as the culprit, Miss Power.” He darted a quick glance in Odelia’s direction. “But if my niece believes in his innocence…”

“Odelia has always had an unfailing intuition for these things,” Chase explained.

“And I guess we owe it to Dan to conduct a thorough investigation,” Uncle Alec continued. “To make absolutely certain there’s not a shadow of a doubt as far as his guilt is concerned.”

Miss Power shifted in her seat. “You still haven’t told me what brought you here.”

“Well, this entire case seems to revolve around your person, Miss Power,” said Uncle Alec. “First Dan was approached by a woman who claimed to have something very interesting to share, and used the word ‘Gnomeo’ to describe what she had to offer, then Jack Warner arranged a meeting with Dan, presumably to bury the hatchet, as he and Dan have been at each other’s throats since their respective clubs’ inception, and finally, the cleaner who’s the only witness to Dan’s crime turns out to have been an avid fan of yours as well. She had an entire room dedicated to you, with a hat you once wore as the highlight of her collection, so…”

“So you wanted to know what I thought of this whole thing,” Miss Power said, nodding. “Well, as you may or may not know I’ve retired from the movie business many years ago, and have kept myself to myself ever since. I don’t go out, I don’t meet people, so unfortunately I never had the pleasure of meeting either Mr. Goory or Mr. Warner or this young woman who died. If I had I could perhaps have offered you my opinion. What I can say is that for some reason or other my work has always inspired a great deal of excitement—rightly or wrongly, I leave that to others to decide. Men have fought over me, especially when I was younger, women have fought with me, especially the women who were married to these same men.” She smiled. “I find it hard to believe that now, a little over a decade after I retired, people are still capable of getting worked up over my legacy—the modest body of work I left behind.”

“So you think that’s what this is?” asked Odelia. “People getting all worked up and even going so far as to resort to murder?”

Miss Power lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know how else to explain it. One woman presumably had some objects to sell, and the president of the Gnomeos—silly name, if you ask me, by the way—killed her, presumably because he didn’t want to pay what she was asking. And then the president of one fan club killed the president of another fan club, possibly because of some argument over who was my most devoted fan. Frankly it doesn’t surprise me. I’ve seen people act even more viciously over my perceived talents.”

She gazed out through the window for a moment, and Odelia had the impression she was thinking of one particular incident. As she remembered herself, Maria Power’s third husband had once struck a man he thought was her lover, and had rendered him unconscious in the process. There had even been a much-hyped trial at the time, damages demanded and awarded. Maybe the actress was right. Her presence had whipped people, both men and women, into a frenzy over the course of her long and illustrious career, and apparently her memory still possessed this power to this day.

“Do you keep up to date on the events organized to commemorate your career?” Odelia asked. “Like the retrospective at the Seabreeze Music Center?”

“No, I certainly don’t,” said Miss Power, returning to the present, her pale blue eyes losing that dreamlike quality and turning flinty. This was clearly a woman who’d been through a lot, and had had quite enough. So much so that she’d decided to turn her back on the world and lock herself up in her own home. Odelia wondered what kind of life she must have led to inspire such an ignoble finale. Probably no one would ever know.

“I was there last night,” Uncle Alec revealed. “Me and my girlfriend, both dressed up as gnomes.” He smiled at the memory.

Miss Power didn’t. “I really don’t understand this Gnomeo business,” she said. “I certainly never did anything to encourage being associated with that dreadful movie.”

“Oh, but by all accounts it must have been a great movie,” said Uncle Alec. “Rupert Finkelstein’s final film. Not a single copy having survived. It’s probably the most sought-after film in the history of cinema.”

“I can tell you there was nothing special about it,” said Miss Power, now looking thoroughly annoyed. “It was probably for the best that Rupert destroyed it. It was a terrible ordeal to make the movie and the result was in keeping with the experience.”