“Thanks.” He turned to me. “I've seen you before, but…”
“Lillian,” I said. “Lillian Morgan.”
A brief look of surprise crossed his face but he erased it and said, “Lillian-of course.” He leaned back in his swivel chair, which creaked, and clasped his hands together behind his head. “What's the problem now? Squirrels getting into the walls again? Bats in the belfry?”
“No,” Tess said. She hesitated. “You tell him, Lil.”
“You remember the day Gerald Weiss died,” I started, tentatively. He nodded. “It was suspected that Gerald had died as a result of eating food he was allergic to, but as far as anybody knows he wasn't allergic to the tuna casserole that was served for lunch. There was something in the dish that may have been shellfish, which he was allergic to, but nobody admitted putting shellfish in the casserole and there was no evidence that it was malicious, so the investigation was dropped.”
“I'm with you so far,” Joe said. “Is there anything new on that?”
“I think I know where the container is, in which the shellfish was taken to the recreation room.”
“Oh…where?”
“In a heating duct…I'm going to have to show you.”
“You're kidding.” Joe looked at his watch. “Even assuming you're right, can't it wait until tomorrow?”
“If I'm right, it's a police matter and we need to get right on it.”
“Okay, let's go take a look.” He and the chair returned to an upright position and he stood up to his six feet plus height.
Tess groaned. “I've done enough walking for one day. I don't think I can make it back there again, then to my apartment, back to dinner, and so forth.”
“You're right, Dear,” I said. “You go to your place and rest. Joe and I can handle it.”
As Tess limped off I said to Joe, “Do you have a flashlight and some twine?”
Without asking questions he produced those from two of his various drawers and cabinets, then said, “I'm supposed to meet with Carol in a few minutes. I'd better tell her where I am.”
Before I could say anything he picked up his phone and punched in Carol's extension. My heart tried to force its way into my throat. It returned to its normal position when he put the phone down and said, “She's on another line. That's okay; we'll be right back.”
Joe peered into the heating duct and said, “I don't see anything but spider webs.”
“How soon does it level out?” I asked.
“Right away. It runs parallel to the floor.”
“So anything that was dropped down there would have stopped just around that bend.”
“Yes.” Joe scratched his head. “I guess there's no way to get at it. Fortunately, we've got a contractor coming next week to replace some of these old ducts, so if there's something there we'll find it.”
“At least we can determine if there is something there.”
“How?”
I opened my purse, found the small mirror I kept there for vanity purposes and pulled it out. “Tie the string around this mirror and lower it into the duct. Then shine the flashlight on the mirror. When it is at the correct angle the light will reflect around the bend and we should be able to see in the mirror if anything's there.”
“Are you some kind of scientist?” Joe asked, with a hint of admiration in his voice.
“I'm a mathematician. But I know that with light rays the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection.”
Joe laughed and did as I suggested. I watched to make sure he tied the string around the mirror in such a way that the mirror wouldn't come loose and drop out. But he was obviously clever at this sort of thing and tied it securely, like a package.
He lowered the mirror down the shaft while I held the flashlight. Our heads were close together. In my former life I would have been thrilled, but time had taken its toll on my hormones.
I was actually somewhat dubious about how this would work because I thought it would be difficult to control the mirror, but Joe was very dexterous. He soon had it resting on the curve of the duct at the proper angle so that I was able to reflect the light of the flashlight off the mirror and around the bend. As I steadied the flashlight I caught my breath. Even my old eyes could see an object reflected in the mirror.
“It looks like a plastic container,” Joe said. He looked at me. “Lillian, you're a genius.”
The words had a sweet sound, coming from him. “Thanks for your help, Joe,” I said. “Now I'd better go.”
“Go where?”
“Well…to the police. They need to be here when the container is retrieved. There may be fingerprints…”
“We need to tell Carol,” Joe said, emphatically.
I had almost forgotten about Carol. “Does Carol need to know?”
“Of course. She's the boss.”
He left no room for argument. “Okay, you tell Carol,” I said. “I…have to get home to cook my son's dinner. We can call the police later.” I headed for the outside door across from the recreation room, the one we had exited from when the fire alarm went off.
“Come with me,” Joe said. “You're the one who had the brainstorm. You can explain to Carol why you thought there was something in the duct.”
Again, Joe left no room for argument. I whipped out my cellular phone and punched in Albert's number. He wasn't home yet, but I got his answering machine and left a message, saying that I was in Carol's office and that I would be home soon. I emphasized the word “soon.”
As we walked back down the hallway I desperately tried to think of what to say to Carol.
CHAPTER 27
Carol was talking on the telephone when we walked into her office, but she hung up almost immediately and said, “Well, hello, Lillian. I understand you attended the bridge club today.”
Did she have spies reporting every move I made?
“But aren't you here a little late?” she continued. “Albert will be expecting his dinner.”
I didn't like her tone. “I was just headed home now,” I said, trying to keep my voice pleasant. I remained standing.
“We found something,” Joe said.
Carol immediately turned her attention to him and said, “What did you find?”
Joe gave her a brief rundown of our activities. I watched Carol's eyes for a flicker of something, but I saw nothing.
When Joe finished, she said to me, “So you're still doing your detective work. I thought you had retired from that.”
“Almost.” I felt very uncomfortable. “But you're right. I really do have to get home.” I turned to walk out of Carol's office.
“Wait!”
Carol's voice hit me like an electric shock. I stopped in my tracks.
“We need to discuss this,” she said. “Joe, close the door please.”
The walls of Carol's office became prison bars.
“Sit down,” she said, and we both complied. “Now, Lillian, tell me exactly what you know or suspect.”
I looked at her and said nothing.
“When you leave here, what are you going to do?”
“Go home and cook Albert's dinner,” I said, automatically. “He's expecting me.”
“Will you go to the police?”
I remained silent.
“Don't you think we ought to go to the police?” Joe asked.
“Shut up!” Carol snapped at him.
He shut up but looked uncomfortable.
“Okay, let's go through this,” Carol said, suddenly looking edgier than I'd ever seen her. “We know that somebody put shellfish in the casserole and that's what killed Gerald. I'm sure it was an accident, but nobody has owned up to it, which has made you suspicious. It would have been easiest for Harriet to do, assuming she knew about Gerald's allergy, and she has a possible motive, but there is no evidence that she did it.”
I glanced at my watch. Albert would be getting home and wondering where I was and why dinner wasn't ready.
Carol saw my action and said, “You'll be home soon enough. Your theory, apparently, is that the shellfish was added to the casserole during the fire alarm evacuation. You went all the way to San Diego to dig up some dirt on Ellen, but she has an iron-clad alibi. So who does that leave as a suspect-Ida?”