“You're right. Its only value is probably sentimental and historical. Forget I asked.”
Shelley had been gone only a few minutes when Sharlene came back into the boardroom. "Babs, I just — oops. Where'd she go? Tom called and said he was tied up in court for a while."
“She said she was going to make some of Derek's calls," Jane said over her shoulder. "Maybe she's in his office."
“Thanks. I'll look for her there. Isn't that sweet of her?" Sharlene said, bustling out of the room.
Jane smiled at the cat. "Heidi, would you have the nerve to call Babs McDonald 'sweet'? I wouldn't.”
Babs was back in an hour. "Any sign of Jumper yet?" she asked Jane.
“Not that I know of," Jane said. She joined Babs at the board table and said, "Since you've been so frank with Shelley and me, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
“Fire away," Babs said cheerfully. "If I don't know the answer, I'll make one up."
“Well, I have the impression that the board of directors thought that Georgia Snellen was helping herself to some of the funds she collected for the museum.”
It would be too much to say Babs looked surprised, but she was mildly startled. "I believe 'think' is the operative word. There was never any evidence of cheating. Merely suspicions. For example, the cash collected at any given activity always slightly exceeded the number of receipts—"
“I don't understand."
“Then think back to your work at the booth at the Pea Festival. We're a nonprofit organization — a 501 (c) (3) in IRS talk — and if somebody buys an item from the booth, the person working there is supposed to offer them a receipt for the difference between our actual cost and the amount we sell it for, and the purchaser can take it as a tax deduction."
“Oh, dear. We didn't do that," Jane said.
“You were working under emergency conditions. I don't imagine anyone thought to tell you. Anyway, most times people don't want to wait for a receipt, or it's such a small amount they don't think it's worth figuring into their taxes. And lots of times, because it's a charitable institution, people often deliberately overpay or refuse to take their change back. So you end up with more cash than receipts to account for it. And Georgia always did end up with excess cash. But not as much as we'd expect. The gift shop, for example, averages about twelve percent extra cash. Georgia always turned in about three percent extra. And that's not proof of anything. You could postulate that Georgia has such an abrasive manner that people are less likely to be generous with her."
“Yes, but I understood that she's quite good at raising money," Jane said.
Babs looked at Jane with an arched eyebrow. "That is true," she said. "But proof is proof and speculation's quite another thing." She made clear that this was all she was willing to say about the matter and Jane let it go.
“May I ask you something else, then?" Babs nodded.
“Sharlene told me that Regina and Whitney were supposed to be announcing their engagement at the groundbreaking ceremony. But she also hinted that Regina hadn't exactly rushed into committing to marriage."
“Right again," Babs said.
“Do you know why that is?" Jane asked. "What an odd question," Babs said. "Why do you ask?"
“I'm not sure," Jane answered honestly. "I'm just curious about Regina, I guess. I never met her, you know. But from what I hear about her, it's hard to imagine that she'd inspire murderous rage in anyone.”
Babs laughed softly. "That's perilously close to damning with faint praise."
“I didn't mean it that way," Jane said.
“No, dear, I know you didn't. I can't really answer that. If Regina had confided in me whyshe was hesitant about marrying, I wouldn't feel I could break that confidence. As it happens, she didn't. She wasn't a confiding sort of woman. Frankly, I have a theory about it, but it's merely theory and it would be irresponsible to put it out as anything else—"
“Babs. There you are," Lisa said from the doorway. "Did you get the message from Jumper? He said he's on the way and please wait if you can."
“Thank you, Lisa. Sharlene told me. Lisa, I don't mean to be insulting, but you look exhausted. Why don't you go home and rest?"
“I was just planning to." She jingled her car keys in her hand to illustrate the truth of this. As Lisa started to move away, Babs said, "I'll walk you out. I need to talk to you about one of the phone calls I made — excuse me, will you, Jane?”
Lisa and Babs went off together and Jane went back to work. But something was nagging at her. Something she couldn't quite get hold of. She sat back and closed her eyes for a minute, trying to tease the idea out of hiding, but couldn't lure it into the light. It was something that Shelley had said recently. She opened her eyes and looked at the stuffed cat. "Heidi, if only you could talk. Or even listen," she said. "Wonder if Auguste Snellen named a pea for you.”
She returned to the computer and a momentlater, as she had hoped, the elusive idea camehunting for her. She stopped typing and got up.She'd put the pea-experiment ledger under Heidi. She now removed it and carefully flipped through the pages. It was confusing and frustrating, the way the text went from formulae to German text to English text, but she finally found what she was looking for. Page 87 was labeled "Snellen's Little Beauty" and what's more, an envelope fluttered out from between the pages. She picked it up carefully.
It was postmarked 1934 and came from Arkansas.
Eighteen
"I think you might have been right. This ledger is what someone was looking for in the basement," Jane said. "That's where the old pea storage thing is, and logically the ledger was there, too.”
“But what would it have to do with Regina's death?" Shelley asked. Jane had located her in a History of Pitchforks display at the north end of the second floor.
“Probably nothing, but it would explain a little mystery. If, in fact, we discovered that the search in the basement didn't have anything to do with Regina's death, it would clear out some debris — so to speak."
“I guess that's true. Okay. Let's assume for the moment that somebody was looking for this ledger — you did take it before the basement was searched, right? Assuming that, who could it be? Only you or Sharlene. You're out because you already found it," Shelley said with a smile, "and Sharlene would have no reason to be secretive about it. She'd search in a tidy manner and even if she'd been sloppy, there'd have been no reason not to admit it."
“But why just the two of us? I was sort of lurking behind a display when I heard that man telling the story about the pea. Why couldn't someone else have been lurking, or at least accidentally overhearing it, too?"
“Like who?"
“Like anybody in the building. I saw Caspar shortly before the old man told Sharlene the story. Anyone else might have been just outside the doorway. Shelley, I want to see if this ledger showing Snellen's Little Beauty actually leads us to some peas."
“And you don't want to go in the basement by yourself? All right. But let me finish with the pitchforks first. Only two more tags to go.”
Jane paced impatiently while Shelley completed her work; then they headed for the stairs. As they went down the last flight, it occurred to Jane that they should have brought a key in case the storage room was locked. But fortunately, it wasn't. She turned the knob and the door swung open. Jane stepped forward into the darkness, flailing for the string that would turn on the overhead light. Just as she grasped it and pulled, her foot touched something in the middle of the floor. There hadn't been anything there the last time they were down here.