Steve took a breath. “By shooting someone with your gun,” he said dryly.
Timberlaine looked at him sharply. “I get the feeling you’re not really taking this seriously.”
“Of course we’re taking it seriously,” Tracy said quickly. “I assure you, Mr. Winslow will take every precaution to see that you are protected.”
Timberlaine took a breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just this whole thing is getting on my nerves. And then that goddamn Burdett!” Timberlaine’s face reddened as he said the name. He took another breath, blew it out. “Well,” he said, “feel free to look around. I’ve got to join the other guests.”
Timberlaine nodded and went out.
Tracy turned on Steve. “See?” she said. “It’s not just me. He can tell you’re not taking this seriously too.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Steve said. “Isn’t it enough I’m here?”
“No, it’s not enough you’re here. This man is counting on you. You’ve accepted a big retainer. You’re here, yes, but you think the whole thing’s a big joke. So you’re basically goofing off for the weekend and not acting on any of the things you should be acting on.”
“What do you mean?”
“If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that this man is obsessed with Melvin Burdett. And having seen Burdett, it’s easy to tell why. Burdett’s going out of his way to be a pain in the ass and needle Timberlaine every chance he gets. Timberlaine hates him, and what’s more, everybody knows it. If Melvin Burdett were to die, I bet you couldn’t find a person here who wouldn’t think Timberlaine had done it.”
Steve looked at Tracy. “Yeah? So?”
“And,” Tracy said “Melvin Burdett and Timberlaine’s daughter’s fiance have switched rooms. Well, not exactly switched rooms. But the fiance is sleeping in Burdett’s room. Burdett isn’t sleeping in the fiance’s room. We don’t know where Burdett’s sleeping. We know he’s not sleeping where he usually sleeps, and we know he’s not sleeping where he was originally assigned.”
Steve looked at her. “So?”
“So, on the one hand, you haven’t found out where Burdett is sleeping, and on the other, you haven’t found out if Timberlaine knows.”
“Good lord.”
“Which you would do, if you were taking this thing seriously.”
Steve thought that over. “All right, if those are your criteria, I’m guilty as charged.”
“I rest my case,” Tracy said.
Steve sighed. “All right. Come on.”
They found Martin still in the dining room, supervising the dinner cleanup. He seemed somewhat surprised by the request, but stated that Mr. Timberlaine had instructed him to give them whatever help was needed, and proceeded to check his chart.
“That’s right,” Martin said. “Burdett was originally assigned Room Thirty-four, a third floor front. He was switched to Room Seventeen, a second floor rear. What he wanted, of course, was Room Twelve, the second floor corner, occupied by Donald Walcott, Miss Timberlaine’s friend.”
“And who was originally assigned the room where Burdett is now?”
Martin consulted the chart again. “That would be Mr. Potter.”
“Jack Potter? The expert?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is Potter now? In the room you originally assigned for Burdett?”
Martin nodded. “Yes, sir. Room Thirty-four, third floor front. I simply switched rooms.” Martin cocked his head, looked at Steve somewhat quizzically. “Was there anything else?”
Steve shook his head grimly. “No, that will do it. Have you seen Mr. Timberlaine?”
“I believe he’s on the patio.”
“Great,” Steve said. “Come on, Tracy.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and piloted her outside.
There were about a dozen people on the patio talking in small groups. Steve looked around, spotted Timberlaine in one corner talking to Potter.
Steve turned back to Tracy. “You really want me to do this?”
She gave him a look.
He sighed, walked up to the two men.
“Excuse me,” Steve said. “Mr. Timberlaine. If I could just talk to you for a minute.”
Timberlaine frowned, said, “Excuse me,” to Mr. Potter, and moved off with Steve. “What is it?” he asked.
Steve took a breath. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but did you know that your daughter’s fiance is sleeping in Melvin Burdett’s room?”
Timberlaine’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped open, and he looked at Steve Winslow incredulously. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.
As expected, Steve felt like a total idiot.
10
In the back row of the seats in the grand ballroom, Tracy Garvin grabbed Steve Winslow’s arm. “Look at that.”
Steve looked up from his auction program just in time to see Russ Timberlaine come striding through the double doors. For the auction, Timberlaine had reverted to his full cowboy regalia, with hat, vest and boots.
“Good lord,” Steve said. He looked back at Tracy. “I don’t want to stare, but from where you’re sitting, can you tell if he’s wearing a gun?”
“He certainly is.”
“You don’t suppose it’s the one I think it is?”
“Bet you a nickel.”
It was two o’clock on Saturday afternoon and Steve and Tracy were in good spirits as they waited for the auction to begin. That was partly due to the fact that the weather was gorgeous and they had spent a very pleasant morning strolling around the grounds, and partly due to the fact that no one had died in the night. Donald Walcott, the boyfriend, didn’t get shot in his bed by someone thinking he was Melvin Burdett. And Jack Potter didn’t get shot in his bed by someone thinking he was Melvin Burdett. And Melvin Burdett didn’t get shot in his bed by anyone thinking he was Melvin Burdett, Jack Potter or Donald Walcott for that matter. All of these were not only alive and well, but had been present and accounted for at brunch that morning. So aside from feeling slightly foolish, Steve and Tracy were feeling particularly well.
“If that’s the gun,” Tracy said, “he hasn’t noticed the substitution yet.”
“A credit to my craftsmanship,” Steve said.
“Oh, bullshit,” Tracy said. “It’s no trick to copy a copy. Now if you could make a copy that could pass for the original, that would be something.”
“Too late for that,” Steve said.
“Tell me something.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re convinced that being here’s totally stupid, nothing’s going to happen and we’re wasting our time?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“On the other hand, you went to the expense of the elaborate precaution of switching guns.”
“True. So?”
“So, how do you justify those two positions?”
“Easy,” Steve said. “While I have no expectations a crime is actually going to be committed with Pistol Pete’s original gun, I have to figure there was some purpose for the substitution-if there was a substitution, since I only have Timberlaine’s word for that. Since I don’t know whether his story is true, or what he or anyone else is planning, I attempted to take some measure of control of the situation by introducing a factor into the equation that only I would know. See?”
Tracy shook her head. “Bullshit. You’re just like me. You think something’s going to happen.”
“Shhh,” Steve said. “It’s starting.”
Tracy looked where Steve was pointing and saw that a man in a red jacket now stood at a lectern that had been set up on the stage at the front of the ballroom. On either side of the lectern were tables. At one sat an accountant with a ledger and cash box. At the other sat two assistants with lists of the items to be auctioned.