"The cans are being fingerprinted."
"So you do think it was an outsider."
"Probably so. This place had quite a reputation in the "drug trade until recently."
There was a knock on the door and before Mel could speak, Edgar rushed in. "Detective VanDyne? You're in charge here?" He introduced himself quickly, then said, "Look here, you've got to get to the bottom of this and get the killer out of my house!"
"Edgar!" Jane exclaimed. "It wasn't one of the Ewe Lambs, it was somebody from outside."
Edgar glared at her and VanDyne held his hands up for silence. "Hold it! We don't have any idea yet how it happened and we will thoroughly investigate all possibilities."
"Mel! You just said—" Jane began.
But he cut her off. "My personal opinion and my professional duties are not the same thing, Jane. Now, if you'll get your things, I'll have an officer drive you home."
"Home? Why?"
He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Because there's been a murder here, that's why."
"So you're making everybody leave?" Jane asked, wanting to make quite certain she understood before she took a policy position.
"No, not everybody. And I'm not 'making' you
leave. Just offering you the opportunity — which any
sensible person would take, I might add."
"Sensible," Jane said very softly, her eyes narrowing. "I may not be sensible, Detective VanDyne, but I am loyal to my friends and keep up my part of bargains. I told Edgar I'd skivvy and skivvy I will!"
Edgar's expression softened as Mel's took on a cold, professional look. "Fine. Do as you like. But as your friend, your good friend, I'd advise you to go home."
That made her feel a tad guilty. "Sorry, Mel. I do have to stay with Shelley and Edgar."
Mel wasn't placated. "Mr. North, may I use this room to question people? Starting with you?"
As Jane left, Mel opened the door for her and
touched her shoulder lightly as she passed through. It
was a tiny thing, but amazingly intimate, considering^
the situation.
She found most of the rest of the women, plus Gordon, who was fixing a lamp cord in the comer, in the living room. Kathy jumped up. "Jane, for God's sakes, you shouldn't let the pigs question you without your attorney!"
"Pigs?" Jane said. "That 'pig' is a fine, honorable man!" Thank God he didn't hear her coming to his defense. "Anyway, he wasn't questioning me. Not exactly. Not like a suspect or anything. Nobody's a suspect. It's just his job to find out what happened to Lila and I assume everybody's interested in knowing that."
"Jane's quite right," Beth said calmly without looking up from the file folder in her lap. "They're following a well-established and absolutely necessary routine. I saw them taking beer cans out in plastic bags for fingerprinting and DNA analysis of any
residual saliva. They're doing a cautious, thorough investigation and none of us need worry. We were all locked in here overnight." She pulled out a paper, frowned, and put it back into the folder.
"Yeah, well you'd have to say that, Ms. Law and Order," Kathy said.
"Kathy, I'm a judge," Beth said with a remarkably tolerant smile. "I'm supposed to be in favor of law and order. Are you admitting you'd prefer anarchy, with somebody railroaded into jail? Or just taken out and hanged?"
"Of course not!"
"Then pay attention. I've been on the bench for several murder cases and believe me, the police must collect every scrap of evidence and information that they can before they can even begin to speculate on the reasons and method. They're doing their job and I suggest we all cooperate with them. It's the only sensible thing. There's obviously a dangerous criminal out there who must be apprehended."
"Out there — or in here," Crispy said from the corner of the room.
An electrified silence fell. Crispy looked around at them all, then pushed the television control button. A shampoo commercial blared at them.
Mimi was standing next to Jane. 'That's the one thing I don't think anybody really needed to say," she whispered.
8
Shelley followed Jane to the kitchen. Gordon was at the far end, grimly watching police activity in the back parking lot. "What are they doing?" Jane asked.
"Not much now," Gordon said, coming away from the window. "They've taken away the body. And bags and bags of stuff. Now they're measuring things."
"Why's Edgar determined to pin this on the Ewe Lambs?" Jane asked bluntly.
"Is he?" Gordon asked. "Makes sense. It wouldn't do us any good if it were known that this was a dangerous place to stay. But if one of the women staying here did it, why that's no reflection on us at all."
"I hadn't thought of that," Jane said. "When did she go out there? How did she do it? I know Edgar locks up carefully."
"Yes, but he didn't take roll call, you know. If that had been necessary, it would have been your job," Gordon said a little impatiently. "She either went out there before he locked up, or she let herself out afterwards. The doors work that way; they have to in case of fire. You can go out when they're locked, but they're all balanced to swing shut and relock. The bedroom doors will be like that, too, when they're done."
"When did you last see her?" Jane asked Gordon.
"Me? I don't know. I don't even know which one got killed. I wasn't paying attention."
"She went up to her room about nine-thirty," Shelley said. "At least, I assume that's where she went. She left the living room then."
"She didn't go out the kitchen door between then and ten because I was there the whole time," Jane said. "Except when I went into the library to look for my purse…" She trailed off.
"The police have their work cut out for them if they're trying to put together a timetable of what went on inside the house," Shelley said. "How many other outside doors are there, Gordon?"
"Dozens," he said grimly. "The front door, the French doors from the living room. A door on the third floor leading down an outside stairway. A door at the end of the utility room. Then there's a door from the deck—"
"Never mind. I get the picture," Shelley said.
"Is Edgar still with the detective?" Gordon asked. "I think I'll just see what's going on."
When he'd left the room, Shelley said, "What do you suppose really happened, Jane?"
"I don't know. There were beer cans on the floor out there and a spilled pack of cigarettes. I would guess she interrupted some tramps or drug dealers or something who were out there and they killed her."
"But what was she doing out there?"
Jane shrugged. "Just snooping around? Who knows? She did seem to have an obscene interest in everybody else's business. And the building is where Ted died. I notice everyone made a point of not mentioning that last night. Except when Avalon brought out that picture. I wonder if Pooky managed to get it away from her. Poor Avalon. Anyway, maybe it was just ghoulish curiosity about the place on Lila's part."
"Well, whatever it was, I've got to get my meeting back under way," Shelley said. "And your friend VanDyne is using the library. How long do you think he'll be?"
"Shelley, you'll never get everybody to settle down and talk about fund-raising! There's been a murder on the doorstep!"
Shelley considered this. "Maybe I should wait until afternoon."
"That makes me think; I've got jobs to do, too. I was looking for loo paper when I found her. I'm going back to work."
Jane went back upstairs, passing Pooky coming down. Ewe Lambs were spread out all over the house, some talking quietly, others doing paperwork or flipping through magazines. Jane went back to Avalon's room and found that there was a vast stash of toilet paper in the cabinet under the sink. She finished up the apricot room and went on to Kathy's, which was— not surprisingly—a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a damp washcloth was on the floor making a spot on the carpet. An ashtray had spilled on the floor. And she'd have to do the bed from scratch. She tossed Kathy's cheesy plastic purse on the overstuffed chair by the window and started to work.