Instead, she put down her vacuum cleaner and bucket in the driveway and greeted us amicably. “Hi, Linda. How’re you doin’?”
“Okay,” Bettina said, sounding surprisingly pleasant all of a sudden. “You all done in there?”
“Yup. Just heading off to my next stop.”
“Great. Well, this won’t take long, but these two men would like to ask you a few things. They’re police officers, from the Vermont Bureau of Investigation.”
To my relief, Mameve’s smile broadened. “I’ve heard of you. You’re part of that new outfit, supposed to be like the Untouchables or something.”
“Or something,” Willy muttered under his breath.
I shook her hand and introduced myself and Willy, explaining, “We don’t want to take too much of your time, but we’re here on kind of a sensitive mission. I understand from Linda that you have a habit of starting each job with a fresh vacuum cleaner bag.”
Mameve looked mystified. “Yeah. I know it sounds dumb, but I like to start fresh, the vacuum works better that way, and I don’t have to stop in the middle to change bags.”
“So you started on this house with an empty one?”
She stooped down and pulled a rectangular wrapper from the bucket by her feet. “First one out of a bag of three-got two left.”
“And the other one’s still in the machine?”
She glanced at Linda, as if hoping she’d explain the joke. “Sure is. I put them in my trunk and throw them out at the end of the day.”
“Okay,” I said. “Well, here’s probably the weirdest question I have for you: Could we have that bag?”
The smile faded. “The vacuum cleaner bag? Why?”
Linda Bettina spoke up from behind me. “Mameve, they’re suspicious about Mr. Goddard for some reason and think you might have picked something up that’ll help them out. The bag’s your property, though, and you can tell them to get lost if you want. That’s why I’m here, to make sure that point’s made crystal clear.”
Again, I was relieved by her reaction. The smile returned with a crafty look. “Wow, that’s great-like the crime lab on the Discovery Channel. I love that show. Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, “exactly right.”
“What’re you looking for? I may have seen something.”
I felt more than heard Bettina let out a sigh, assuming there was either a policy or at least encouragement not to talk about the guests in such a fashion.
Not that I was going to mention it. “Are you thinking of something specific, Mameve? I don’t want to be accused of planting ideas in your mind.”
She turned thoughtful. “Gee, I don’t know. I know they party a lot in there. They’re pretty messy. But I can’t say I’ve seen anything I haven’t seen in other places.”
“Nothing that would strike you as illegal?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Sorry.”
“Do you know Andy Goddard?” Willy asked for the first time.
“We met a couple of times, by accident. They try to have us come by when the people aren’t here. We get a schedule every week.” She patted her pocket. “But that’s harder with permanent residents like Mr. Goddard, since they’re on-mountain all the time. Even so, I bump into guests pretty regularly, year-rounders or not, which I guess means the system isn’t working too good.”
Linda spoke up. “What do you mean, ‘pretty regularly’? You should’ve said something.”
“It didn’t bother me and it doesn’t seem to bother the guests, so there wasn’t much to say. I’ve always thought it was pretty silly pretending all us custodial people were invisible, anyway. Besides, I did report the schedule wasn’t working. That other man told me he’d look into it.”
We all three looked at her with renewed intensity, causing her cheeks to flush.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked in a small voice.
“What man?” Linda asked first.
“I don’t remember. It was days ago and I forget his name. Come to think of it, I’m not sure he told me.”
“What did he look like?” Willy asked.
Mameve pointed at me. “About his height, rounder, light brown hair, and a mole right here.” She touched her cheek. “And he had a funny way of pulling his ear when he asked questions. I usually report to Barry-he’s my supervisor-but he was out of the office. This new man said he’d take care of it.”
I feigned ignorance-something Willy and Linda didn’t have to do, the description meaning nothing to them. I merely shrugged and instead asked a tangential question that touched on something Lester Spinney had discovered earlier. “But you’re being told people aren’t supposed to be in these homes when they actually are, right?”
Mameve was obviously embarrassed by now. “It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Linda Bettina didn’t hide her irritation. “Of course you should have. This is just some screwup where one hand doesn’t know what the other one’s doing. I’ll probably get a memo in six months like it was late-breaking news.” She turned to me and explained, “Mameve’s right, it’s a PR scam. The guests are supposed to get this feeling their places are always miraculously pristine. It’s fantasy bullshit and adds to the complications, but if they want a schedule, I give ’em a schedule. I don’t know who this guy is she’s talking about-the way they hire consultants and advisors and God knows what, I’m not surprised.”
“Who’s they?” I asked.
“McNally, Gorenstein, the Board, the brass. I’ll have to get back to Gorenstein and sort it out. It costs us money to do it this way, so if it’s not working, we ought to can it.”
“You don’t do both the housing and maintenance schedules?”
“Just maintenance,” she answered. “Gorenstein does housing ’cause it’s a revenue maker. As they see it, I just spend the stuff. Anyhow, none of that’s why you’re here. Let’s get this over with.”
“Right,” I agreed, happy to get past the subject. I faced Mameve again. “Would you be willing to give us the bag and sign an affidavit later that it was empty and factory-fresh before you entered the building today?”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “This is really exciting.”
“We’ll also ask you to sign a consent-to-search form allowing us to open the bag and examine its contents.”
I was pulling the form from my inner pocket as I spoke.
Mameve nodded eagerly. “Sure, sure.”
Linda Bettina turned and walked away a few steps. “All right. If you don’t need me anymore, I got stuff to do.”
I waved to her. “No, that’s great. Appreciate the help.”
We completed the consent form, secured the bag from the vacuum cleaner, and I shook Mameve’s hand again. “It’s been a real pleasure. One last question: When you work on that house, what do you do exactly?”
“Pretty much just vacuum, mop, do the bathrooms, clean the kitchen sink and stove. We’re told to do a thorough job, but not get into the guests’ belongings, so I don’t go poking around.” She smiled again and winked at me.
“That’s going to be harder to do from now on. What is it you think Mr. Goddard’s up to?”
I patted her shoulder. “This is where it gets really unfair, and I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you that. It’s just an investigation, and if it turns out we’re all wet, talking about it could cause problems. In fact, you might want to think about that yourself, in case you were planning on telling anyone about this.”
Her disappointment was palpable. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I reinforced the message, “and if word does get out, since Linda was right here, she might come looking for you for an explanation, not to mention Mr. Goddard himself. He could think you’ve really done him a number. It’s your choice, of course, but I’d be careful.”
Something in my own words suddenly made me hesitate, struck by a long shot. I touched her arm as she turned to leave.
“Mameve? I’m sorry to keep bugging you, but I guess I lied-I have one other question.”
She looked at me expectantly. “Sure.”