Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 150, Nos. 5 & 6. Whole Nos. 914 & 915, November/December 2017
- Автор: Фузилли Джим, Харрис Шарлин
- Год: 2017
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: 0013-6328
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 150, Nos. 5 & 6. Whole Nos. 914 & 915, November/December 2017». Краткое содержание книги:
She waited while he thought about it some more.
“They may not all want to come to your get-together.”
“No, but I think everyone will. It would look odd not to.”
“Who else were you planning to invite?”
“Mildred’s cousin and her husband. The mayor and the members of the village council. And I was thinking about Mildred’s minister and his wife. I’ll need to have a fruit punch as well as Singapore Slings—”
“You think someone’s going to get drunk and blurt out a confession?”
“No, but someone might say or do something. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”
Chief Gordon leaned back in his desk chair. “You might ask Howard to play bartender. He used to be one when he was working his way through journalism school.”
That explained his silver flask, Jo thought. “Good idea,” she said. “I think Monday evening. One week since Mildred’s death.”
“You’ve got a lot to do to pull this off in two days.”
“I’ll ask the woman Aunt Meg used to hire for parties if she can help with the food. And if you’ll help with the guest list... I don’t know the mayor and the members of the village council—”
“I’ll get them there.”
“There’s one other thing. I wondered how well you knew Vivian’s husband.”
Chief Gordon gazed at her. “We used to go buck hunting together.”
“Were you surprised when he had a heart attack?”
“I was, but his doctor wasn’t. He said it wasn’t that unusual for a man in his sixties who liked good food and good whiskey.”
By seven o’clock that Monday evening, everyone who had been invited to the gathering had arrived. Nora, the woman who’d helped with the cooking, was helping out with the serving.
Jo waited for Mildred’s minister to see the bottles of gin on Howard’s makeshift bar, then she raised her hand and asked for everyone’s attention.
“I’d like to explain why Howard is acting as our bartender tonight. You see, rather than have the cast of the play become tipsy on stage as they sipped their cocktails, Mildred and I had planned to fill the glasses with our own concoction of cranberry juice and lemonade.” Jo gestured toward the large pitcher on Howard’s table. “It’s really quite good, and you must try it. But Barton’s play is set in Singapore at the Raffles Hotel. And I thought Mildred would be pleased if I also offered you a chance to make a farewell toast to her with a legendary drink invented there, the Singapore Sling.”
“Oh, I must try one,” the mayor’s wife said. She smiled at her husband. “But don’t you let me get tipsy, Stanley.”
The mayor said, “I think if we’re going to sample this cocktail, we should all be sure we’re also sampling all that delicious-looking food weighing down the dining-room table.”
“Please, eat as much as you’d like,” Jo said. “Nora did the cooking, so I can tell you that, yes, the food is delicious.”
With that the gathering took on the semifestive atmosphere that Jo had observed at wakes. Hard to ignore the fact that Mildred had been murdered and the suspects and the chief of police were all in the room. But everyone there seemed to be doing their best to pretend otherwise.
Except for those awkward little moments. As she was chatting with Mildred’s cousin about all the odds and ends they’d found as they were packing up Mildred’s things, Jo heard the mayor’s wife observe how it would soon be fireplace weather.
“And it was in the nineties this time last week. That awful storm...” She glanced from Charlotte and her mother to one of the village councilmen. “Of course that’s probably why whoever... why someone ended up in the Grange Hall basement.” She turned to glance at Howard. “Isn’t that true, Howard? Since the war, so many soldiers who are messed up in the head are drifting about like hoboes. I keep reading that.”
Howard raised his cocktail glass to her. “As a soldier who served in that war I can verify that my head is occasionally messed up, Mrs. Stillwell.”
The mayor’s wife flushed. “You know I didn’t mean soldiers like you, Howard. I meant the ones who are having a difficult time fitting in again.” She turned back to Charlotte and her mother and the councilman. “What I was trying to say was that whoever... it must have been a drifter who is long gone. That’s what my husband says.”
Charlotte said, “May I have another of your delightful Singapore Slings, Howard?”
Her mother gave her an uneasy glance but said nothing.
Jo turned when Barton said her name. “Could I speak to you for a moment?” he said.
Jo excused herself to Mildred’s cousin and her husband.
“What’s wrong?”
He tugged at his tie. “Should I say something about Mildred?”
“That would be nice. I was hoping someone would propose that toast I mentioned.”
“Okay. I guess I should go do it now, then.”
Jo watched from the doorway as Barton cleared his throat and asked for everyone’s attention.
Will, who had been keeping his distance from Sarah and Jim Fisher, took that opportunity to stare at them. Apparently feeling his gaze, Sarah turned and looked over her shoulder at him.
Jim Fisher turned to see what his wife was looking at. What might have been a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.
He whispered something in Sarah’s ear. She glanced up at him, blushed, and smiled. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. They turned and raised their glasses as Barton made his toast to Mildred with several lines from Emily Dickinson.
Will drained his glass and slammed it down on a side table.
Vivian moved toward him. Will glared at her and turned on his heel.
Jo gave Barton a discreet “thumbs up” on his toast and made a beeline after Vivian, who had followed Will into the hall.
Vivian was standing there looking after Will, who had just slammed the front door on his way out.
“Was he okay?” Jo asked.
Vivian shrugged. “He seemed to be having a hard time tonight.”
“He really has it bad, doesn’t he? Do you think he thought he had a chance with Sarah?”
Vivian was clutching her own empty glass in her hand. “There’s nothing rational about love.”
Jo nodded. “Not in my experience. And Will is so young, isn’t he?”
“Not as young as he looks,” Vivian said. “But thirty-three on a man does tend to look so much better than on a woman.”
“He’s thirty-three?” Jo said. “I thought he was closer to Sarah’s age.”
“I’m sure she did too, until she found out otherwise. A pharmacist is hardly a knight in shining armor. Why risk everything for a fling?”
“Yes,” Jo said. She lowered her voice. “But it’s a good thing it wasn’t Sarah’s husband who turned up dead.”
Vivian laughed. “Will? He doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“Maybe not,” Jo said. “But as you said, he’s a pharmacist, and in love with another man’s beautiful young wife—”
“He’s not in love with that little—” Vivian pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m getting the most awful headache. Please, forgive me, but I need to leave.”
“Of course,” Jo said. “It’s a good thing you got your prescription refilled.”
“What?”
“Will mentioned you stopped by the drugstore the day after Mildred died. On your way to Utica.”
“I didn’t have a headache at the time. But with everything that was happening—”
“Of course. It’s always a good idea to be prepared.”
“Thank you so much for bringing us together to honor Mildred. I’ll say good night to everyone on my way out.”
Jo watched Vivian make her farewells. Charlotte didn’t bother to acknowledge Vivian’s departure. She had cornered Jim Fisher and from the expression on his face she was getting a few things off her chest. Sarah was glancing in their direction as she talked to the minister and his wife. She looked concerned.