"All this art! All this splendor!" Mildred exclaimed. "You don't expect it in Moose County." "Very few people knew what this house contained," Qwilleran said. "The Klingenschoens never entertained, although they owned a boxcarful of china and silver… Would you like a drink?" "Do you have any fruit juice?" He served white grape juice from Koko's private stock, and they sat in the solarium, where Mildred critiqued the marbled sculptures. It was mercifully quiet, except for an occasional "Baa-a-a!" Birch had turned off his radio and was having a beer with Mrs. Cobb in the kitchen. Either the housekeeper was totally smitten, or she was a master strategist.
The work was being done, and it was being done well.
"And now," Qwilleran said to Mildred, "tell me about Mrs. Mull." "She was fairly sober and quite agreeable. I gave her your message, and when I mentioned the gold jewelry she perked up noticeably." "Did she have any news of her daughter?" "None, but here's something interesting. She too received a postcard shortly after Daisy left. Something like 'Going to Florida… never coming back… forget about me… you never loved me. Della was quite bitter about it." "Did you see the card?" "She hadn't kept it. And naturally she didn't remember the postmark or the handwriting or the date. That was five years ago, and she's been in a fog most of the time." Qwilleran said, "I went to the police station and met Chief Brodie. Pleasant guy, very cooperative. Daisy had no record — no arrests, no complaints. I gave him the date when she left, but there was no report to Missing Persons." "I'm relieved to know she has a clean slate," Mildred said. "She wasn't a bad girl, but the odds were against her. She used to come to school in rags. I kept some of Sharon's old clothes in the art room, and I'd make Daisy put them on.
Yesterday I looked up some of the old yearbooks. She was a sophomore when she left school, but her picture wasn't in the book. Couldn't afford to have a photo taken, I guess. There was a comment about each student, and for Daisy they said she'd marry a rich husband. I don't know whether they were being kind or cruel." "I think I'll visit Della Mull tomorrow while she's in a good mood." "Good. She lives in an old trailer with a big daisy painted on the door." "Excuse me a minute," Qwilleran said. "I want to show you something." He went to the broom closet and returned with the baby clothes in a Lanspeak's shopping bag.
Mildred examined them thoughtfully. "These aren't from Lanspeak's. They're handmade. It looks like Della's work." "Then she knew Daisy was pregnant, didn't she? We may be getting somewhere. I'll know better tomorrow." The next morning Qwilleran overheard a conversation that gave him an idea. Birch was again on the job, snacking with Mrs. Cobb in the kitchen and describing the culinary delights of the Dimsdale Diner: corned beef and cabbage on special every Tuesday; foot-longs with chili every Wednesday. Qwilleran decided to take Della Mull to lunch. Women, he found, liked to be lunched. They became friendly and talkative. To Della, the Dismal Diner would be haute cuisine.
With the gold bracelet in a buttoned pocket, and with Daisy's suitcase and carton of clothing in the trunk of his car, he started for Dimsdale shortly before noon. Halfway there he turned on the twelve o' clock newscast from WPKX: "… and you'll save dollars on top quality at Lanspeak's. Now for the headlines… The mayor of Pickax has assured local merchants that the downtown business district will have a new municipal parking lot before snow flies. In a speech before the Chamber of Commerce, Mayor Blythe said downtown would definitely have a new parking lot before snow flies.
In a Pickax restaurant has announced an expansion project that will increase seating capacity by fifty percent and create seven new jobs. Otto Geb, the proprietor of Otto's Tasty Eats, told WPKX that the new addition will serve fifty percent more customers and add seven employees to the payroll.
"A Dimsdale woman was found dead in her trailer home early this morning, a victim of accidental substance abuse.
The body of Della Mull, forty-four, was found by a neighbor seeking to borrow a cigarette. The coroner's office ascribed death to alcohol and pills. According to Dr. Barry Wimms, the ingestion of alcohol and pills was the cause of death. "And now a friendly word from the folks at Lanspeak's."
8
"When are we going to have your memorable macaroni?" Qwilleran asked Mrs. Cobb as they waited for Penelope Goodwinter to pick them up.
"As soon as I find some good nippy cheese. It has to be aged cheddar, you know," the housekeeper said. "By the way, I forgot to tell you — a woman phoned you and wants to come to see you. I told her to call back tomorrow. It's about Daisy, she said." "Did you get her name?" "It sounded like 'Tiffany Trotter, but I'm not sure. She sounded young." Mrs. Cobb was wearing her no-iron pink pantsuit, and Qwilleran had thrown his wash-and-wear summer blazer over a club shirt. When the attorney drove up in her tan BMW, she was wearing a crisp linen suit in pin stripe mauve with a mauve silk shirt and mauve pearls. In a cordial but authoritative tone, Penelope instructed Mrs. Cobb to sit in the back seat.
"My brother has returned," she told Qwilleran, "and we are discussing a plan of organization for the Klingenschoen Foundation. Everyone endorses the idea heartily. I have never seen such unanimity in this city. Usually there are several warring factions, even if the issue is only flowerboxes on Main Street." The City Hall was a turreted stone edifice of medieval inspiration, lacking only a drawbridge and moat. With its parking lot, fire hall, police station, and ambulance garage, it occupied an entire city block, just off Main Street.
In the council chamber Mayor Blythe and the council members were assembling at a long table on a dais, and they included — to Qwilleran's surprise-two persons he knew: Amanda Goodwinter with her built-in scowl and Mr. Cooper with his perpetuaily worried expression. Ten rows of chairs for the general public were already filled, except for three reserved seats in the front row. Penelope took care to seat herself between Qwilleran and his housekeeper.
The mayor's gavel rapped the table, and he intoned, "All rise for the Pledge of Allegiance." Chairs were scraping the floor and the audience was struggling to its collective feet when a loud voice in the back of the room called out, "I object!" Mrs. Cobb gasped audibly. The audience groaned and sat down again. Council members fell back into their chairs with assorted grimaces of impatience, exasperation, and resignation. Looking around for the source of the disturbance, Qwilleran spotted a belligerent-looking middle-aged man with an outdated crew cut, standing and waiting to be recognized by the chair.
With stoic calm the mayor said, "Will you please state your objection, Mr. Hackpole?" "That's not the official flag of these United States," the man announced in a booming voice. "It's got forty-eight stars, and the federal government retired that piece of cloth in 1959." The audience uttered another groan, and individuals shouted, "Who's counting?… Sit down!" "Order!" Mayor Blythe banged the gavel. "Mr. Hackpole, this flag has been saluted in this chamber for more than a quarter of a century without offending the taxpayers of Pickax or the federal government or the residents of Hawaii and Alaska." "It's a violation of the flag code," insisted the objector; "What's right is right. What's wrong is wrong." An elderly councilwoman said in a sweetly reasonable voice, "Many of us remember fondly that this flag was presented to the city of Pickax by the late Miss Klingenschoen, and it would be a mark of disrespect to remove it so soon after her untimely death." "Hear! Hear!" was the response from the audience. The somber accountant said, "This is an expensive flag. We couldn't afford to replace it with anything of like quality in today's market." Scowling over her glasses, Amanda Goodwinter added, "It would have to be custom-made. This flag is one-hundred percent virgin wool, lined with silk — very unusual. The stripes are individually stitched, and the stars are embroidered on the blue field. It was ordered through my studio." "Don't forget the gold fringe," piped up a tremulous voice from the end of the table. "You don't see many flags with gold fringe." The speaker was an old man so small that he virtually disappeared behind the council table.