Death on the Diagonal Part 10

Emma was Sara's maid and alter ego. The two women had been together for half a century, and had weathered so many communal storms that the labels of mistress and servant had become irrelevant, although Emma continued to cling to her traditional taffeta uniforms: pink or gray during the day, black at night-with the requisite starched white ap.r.o.n, of course.

"I can go out to the kitchen, Sara," Belle offered. "There's no need to bother Emma."

"It will do her good, my dear. She gets far too little exercise, and I certainly wouldn't wish my current sedentary state to befall her. Imagine her tooling around in the kitchen in this unwieldy device-"

"You could do the cooking, in that case," Belle tossed in.

"What! And deprive her of the opportunity of lording it over me from her home on the range? What a terrible notion. Emma's the queen of the cuisine. I wouldn't dream of tampering with that t.i.tle." With that Sara rang the bell, then returned her gaze to Rosco. "The problems I foresee with your suggestion are these: One, I'm not scheduled to begin physical therapy until the swelling in my knee subsides-by which time your Dawn Davis may well have skedaddled. And two, I can't be accompanied by Belle-as I was to Dr. Arthur's office-because she's so instantly recognizable. Anyone with half a brain, and it sounds as though your Ms. Davis has more than that, will make the connection. She may not have realized that you were the private eye to whom the ill.u.s.trious cruciverbalist, Belle Graham, is wed, but I'll warrant she'd put two and two together if she saw me with your lovely bride. Now, as for the first quandary: I believe I can successfully make a preliminary foray to Avon-Care-under the pretext of examining the place before making a decision about which physical-rehabilitation facility will garner my business. As for the second-"

At that moment, Emma entered. In her hands she bore the promised deviled eggs. "I spotted these on the counter not two seconds ago, madam-before you rang for me."

"Did you now, Emma?" was Sara's wry reply.

"I did." Emma's posture was as commanding as Sara's, notwithstanding the wheelchair and their present difference in height; and there might have been more conversation as to when the bell had rung and when the treasured eggs had been discovered were it not for the fact that Sara suddenly burst out, "Guess what, Emma? You and I are going to become subcontractors of the Polycrates Agency! Think of that! Just like our Belle, here. Rosco has asked us to infiltrate a health-care facility this coming Thursday. But my news is completely hush-hush, of course; strictest confidence strictest confidence and all that." She eyed Emma from head to foot. "You may dress as my maid, if you'd like, unless you feel the choice would cause undue suspicion-which is a possibility. Perhaps we should invent a more devious disguise for you." and all that." She eyed Emma from head to foot. "You may dress as my maid, if you'd like, unless you feel the choice would cause undue suspicion-which is a possibility. Perhaps we should invent a more devious disguise for you."

Rosco shook his head and shot Belle an amused glance. A pair of "subcontractors" whose combined age is one hundred sixty, A pair of "subcontractors" whose combined age is one hundred sixty, the look said. the look said. Who else will Sara decide to "hire" on my behalf? Who else will Sara decide to "hire" on my behalf?

"I believe the choice of a uniform is an excellent one, madam. Which one do you wish me to wear?"

"Oh, I think the gray, don't you, Emma? The time for our rendezvous is ten in the morning, but the pink might appear overly informal. We want to be taken seriously, don't we?"

"And a full or half ap.r.o.n?"

Sara thought. "Half. There won't be any cooking involved. Unless it's someone's goose."

Belle couldn't stop chuckling the entire way home. "Well, how else did you imagine this playing out, Rosco? You know you can't get Sara involved in any scheme without her pulling out all the stops. Just be grateful those two don't want to dress up as Batman and Robin. Besides, you can't have forgotten the situation in Hollywood when she actually believed she'd become a world-cla.s.s thespian, or the time we took her to that inn in Vermont. Or our wedding, for pete's sake, which she insisted insisted be performed on the senator's yacht." be performed on the senator's yacht."

Rosco shook his head. "I don't know . . . The idea of Emma in her uniform, and Sara togged out in a Queen-Elizabeth-type hat . . . I'm not certain they're going to inspire a woman like Dawn Davis to share her deepest and darkest secrets. On the other hand, who could suspect that dynamic duo of trying anything underhanded?"

"They could always shame her into gabbing," Belle shot back. "Ask where her white gloves and lace hanky are, for instance. Besides, you deserve everything you got, sitting there wolfing down cookies while I was trying to keep the tea from slos.h.i.+ng all over the floor."

"You're the neophyte lady of the mansion, not me," was Rosco's serene response. "Anyway, in case you'd forgotten, you're also the one who invented the term subcontractor to the Polycrates Agency. subcontractor to the Polycrates Agency."

"And now you have two more," Belle laughed.

"Hooo boy."

"And you'd better hope the three of us never gang up on you and mutiny."

"Or demand union benefits. I'm losing sleep over that scenario already."

CHAPTER 18.

The moment the car once again reached the seclusion of the Munnatawket Beach parking lot, the driver glanced down at the blank sheet of quarter-inch graph paper lying on the pa.s.senger's lap. "I still don't know why-"

A hand was raised, commanding silence. "How about we play the James Boys tonight, what do you say?"

"Can't you take this seriously? I'm not into games tonight."

"Who do you want to be? Frank or Jesse?"

"I really don't want-"

"Make up your mind," was the brusque reply. "Jesse . . . or Frank. C'mon, this thing only works if you act on instinct; you know that. Besides, when you look at the string of murders those two logged in, I'd say we couldn't get more serious."

"But I-"

"Don't tell me you'd prefer Groucho and Harpo? Or maybe Abbott and Costello?" This was said with a laugh, but the sound was cruel and goading.

The response was a beleaguered sigh. "I liked playing the woman's part last time." Another pause, followed by, "Okay, I'll be Jesse."

"Spell it with an ie ie if it'll help you work through that feminine thing." The suggestion was accompanied by another jeering chuckle. if it'll help you work through that feminine thing." The suggestion was accompanied by another jeering chuckle.

"Just skip it, okay? But I've gotta tell you, this is getting way, way too harebrained for me."

"Tortoise and the hare . . . You wanna play bunny rabbit instead? And I'll be a big, old snapping turtle-"

"Stop it! I said I'd do Jesse, didn't I? So quit it! I just don't understand why we're going through the trouble of making another stupid puzzle when the first one got no reaction whatsoever."

"Frank's" head shook in frustration. "That's exactly why why we need to create another one, Jes; clearly, the first attempt failed, or the transmission didn't go through. Who knows? All I can tell you is that no one's approached the guilty party. At least, not that I've heard." we need to create another one, Jes; clearly, the first attempt failed, or the transmission didn't go through. Who knows? All I can tell you is that no one's approached the guilty party. At least, not that I've heard."

"Parties," "Jesse" corrected acidly. "There's more than one, brother brother dear." dear."

"Right, fine, parties. parties. Have it your own way. Anyway, we also made a serious construction mistake with the last one. I checked out the newspaper crosswords. These things need to be symmetrical." Have it your own way. Anyway, we also made a serious construction mistake with the last one. I checked out the newspaper crosswords. These things need to be symmetrical."

"Well, that sure makes it easier easier," was the muttered reply. However, Jesse's hands were now trembling so violently that the caustic tone of voice sounded no more threatening than a puff of evening air.

"What's wrong with you all of a sudden? You're not losing your nerve, are you? Look, we agreed on this thing . . . We've got to get information to them; and we need to stay anonymous. And the only way to do that is-"

"Someone was murdered!" Jesse nearly screamed. "In case you've been so busy you haven't noticed."

Even though they'd returned to the deserted parking lot and the darkened beach, Frank swiveled around in the car seat to see if any other cars had approached.

"Will you settle down?" The voice was a snarl. "You're going to blow this, you know that? You're going to blow it for both of us. I'm willing to go out on the limb here, but you have to do your part."

The response was another near-shout. "Why don't you call that d.a.m.n Polycrates and disguise your voice? You're good at pulling accents. I've seen you do it at parties."

"There's a brilliant idea. Why don't you call him yourself?" When there was no answer, Frank added a cold, "Point made, I take it . . . Which brings me back to our PI's snooping wife. Now, maybe our other attempt failed . . . maybe the fax was screwy, who knows? But we made a mistake. The thing didn't look genuine enough, maybe; and these things get signed, too. Like books. They've got authors' names-"

"Are you nuts? We sign our names?"

"Not our real ones! What do you take me for? And no Bonnie and Clyde, or Frank and Jesse . . . or stupid Ant and Gra.s.shopper, either. Why clue her in to the fact that there are two of us? But we do need a moniker that piques her interest. We want her to do the d.a.m.n crossword, don't we? Isn't that what we're doing sitting out here all by our lonesome? So, give me a name, any name."

Jesse stifled another groan. "Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k. You want to play guessing games, be my guest."

"I'm doing this for both of us, remember?" A mini flashlight was flicked on. "And we t.i.tle our little oeuvre 'To Catch a Thief.' "

" 'Thief ' isn't altogether accurate, in case you'd forgotten."

"Just stuff it, will you? Besides, that's your opinion. The point is to get their attention. Accuracy comes later. Okay, let's start to do some work here." A fifteen-square area was marked out on a sheet of graph paper. "All right; give me some movie t.i.tles."

"There's that Mel Brooks one. That should attract attention." Jesse's answer was sarcastic and flat, and Frank responded in kind with a short, mean laugh.

"There you go! Now you're getting the hang of it."

"This is the last time I do this, brother dear," was the icy reply.

"Never say never, Jes."

"I'm serious, Frankie. I can't do this any longer. I can't."

Across 1. Brown or Thorpe 4. Govt. consumer agcy.

7. Grocery chain 10. Cut gra.s.s 13. Boxing great 14. "Give me some ___!"

15. Atomic energy watchdog; abbr.

16. Baseball stat.

17. With 19-Across, film by 10-Down 19. See 17-Across 21. Summer in France 22. Dry, in Roma 23. Beals. .h.i.t film 27. Pen tips 31. Mr. Disney 32. Drunkard 33. M.A.S.H. role 34. Surface fish 35. Construction sign 37. Idaho range 38. Cla.s.sic Romero film 41. Dollars and cents 42. Shakespearian bad guy 43. Collar 45. Ensemble 46. Prescription notation; abbr.

47. Mr. Autry 48. Six-sided state 49. Cla.s.sic McQueen film 52. Moral element 54. ___ guzzler 55. With 58-Across, cla.s.sic O'Toole film 58. See 55-Across 62. Some savings; abbr.

63. Diplomat; abbr.

64. Cry of surprise 65. New, prefix 66. Neither's partner 67. Female ruff 68. Pig pen 69. Mr. Beatty

Down 1. Option for 13-Across 2. Not well 3. Ms. Farrow 4. Trust 5. Ate 6. Patagonia's home; abbr.

7. Bee or ant 8. Meal prayer 9. Current option 10. Director, Brooks 11. Mine find 12. Had been 18. Pep 20. Offer up 22. w.i.l.l.y's winter weather wear 23. Send on; abbr.

24. Ill.u.s.trated 25. Its capital is Tirane 26. From here on 28. Reaffirm one's vows?

29. Cowboy's cloth 30. Grads 33. Make over 35. Dagger 36. ___ Angeles 37. two-year-old sheep 39. Bound with osiers 40. "If we don't ___ together . . ."

41. Bozeman campus; abbr.

44. Turkish t.i.tle 46. Ms. Cates 47. Deep cut 49. Cooking herb 50. Sh.o.r.e bird 51. Still wet 53. Ski lift TO CATCH A THIEF.

55. Sloe ___ fizz 56. Spanish gold 57. Crewman 58. Mine in France 59. Rest stop 60. Que preceder 61. Turf

CHAPTER 19.

The persistent beep of her home fax machine startled Belle out of a reverie that was far from pleasant. Ryan Collins's brutal murder was weighing heavily on her. Added to the slaying was her memory of Todd Collins and his offspring, their backbiting and jockeying for position, their casual cruelty when dealing with one another. And then there was the media circus currently surrounding the dead woman. Stabbed in a guest bedroom at King Wenstarin Farms, she'd been reduced to the unkindest of boldface slurs. It was enough to make anyone weary of reading a newspaper or watching the local evening news.

Belle released a sigh that was more like a heartfelt groan, pushed back from her desk, where she'd been staring blankly at a piece of graph paper, then rose and walked to the fax. What now? What now? she groused. she groused. Some frothy crossword submission naming state flowers or trees, or the world's longest rivers, or tallest Some frothy crossword submission naming state flowers or trees, or the world's longest rivers, or tallest mountains? Why don't these people leave me alone? Who cares about word games anyway? We've all got more on our plates than wondering how many types of Halloween candy we can find that contain six letters and end with a mountains? Why don't these people leave me alone? Who cares about word games anyway? We've all got more on our plates than wondering how many types of Halloween candy we can find that contain six letters and end with a T T... It's high time I looked for another job and got as far away from h.o.m.onyms, synonyms, antonyms-to say nothing of caconyms, eponyms, and poecilonyms!

With a determined sullenness, she wrenched the new puzzle from the machine. "To Catch a Thief," she read in silence, constructed by Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k. Oh, great. Just great. Now I'm getting a word game from a person pretending to be a dead man. And it's sent to me at home, on top of it. Why can't people learn this is strictly off-limits! constructed by Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k. Oh, great. Just great. Now I'm getting a word game from a person pretending to be a dead man. And it's sent to me at home, on top of it. Why can't people learn this is strictly off-limits! If Belle had been Kit or Gabby, she would have growled aloud. If Belle had been Kit or Gabby, she would have growled aloud.

Instead, she dutifully made a copy of the submission, slumped back to the desk, heaved herself into her chair, and took up her lucky red pen. "Okay, Alfred," she muttered under her breath, "let's see what kind of thief you're hunting . . ." Then 17- and 19-Across caught her eye. BLAZING SADDLES, she wrote in firm block letters, sitting suddenly straighter. "Oh, my gosh . . . and the solution to 38-Across is DAWN OF THE DEAD . . ."

Belle's pen was flying by now. It didn't matter that the puzzle constructor hadn't bothered with a clever step-quote or a guiding theme. She was convinced she'd received an obvious message-and that the bogus "Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k" had private information concerning King Wenstarin Farms.

GOODBYE MR CHIPS, Belle penned at 55- and 58-Across. "Oh, wow!" Then she flew out of her chair. "What did I do with that last submission?" she grumbled. "The one that was faxed on Sunday morning and that made me so cranky . . . c'mon, Gab and Kit . . . you guys are always playing with the sheets of paper I ball up and toss out. Help me find the darn thing."

While Belle-with the aid of the two dogs-rifled through her home office, Sara's glowing black Cadillac tootled along Nathaniel Hawthorne Boulevard toward the Avon-Care facility and her "coincidental" meeting with Dawn Davis. At the wheel was Emma; Sara sat regally on the wide rear seat, her wheelchair stowed in the trunk-or as she sometimes referred to it, "the boot." Sara was as fond of her Briticisms as she was this "automobile"-a 1956 model that she steadfastly refused to believe was over a half-century old.

"You'll come in with me, of course, Emma," she now stated in her genteel yet commanding tone, "and then what, I wonder? Should you return to the parking lot and wait for me? Or should you remain at my side? What looks more convincing for our charade, do you imagine?"

"I think both choices are equally appropriate, madam," was Emma's thoughtful response. "Someone in your weakened condition either requires aid from a caregiver or, alternatively, feels a need for greater autonomy."

Sara nodded at Emma's perception, approval that the maid/chauffeur noted while glancing in the rearview mirror.

"On the other hand, madam, I feel I could be of help in watching Ms. Davis's reactions to your queries. Naturally, I won't be speaking to her myself, and so may be able to note behavior that might elude you."

Sara nodded again. "Then that's just how we'll carry out our mission. Two sets of eyes are always better than one."

The entrance into Avon-Care of the two newest subcontractors to the Polycrates Agency was as theatrical as anything else Sara did. Emma, in a staid navy coat above her rustling gray dress and starched ap.r.o.n, pushed the wheelchair, while Sara surveyed the scene with imperial complacency. The old lady might as well have been a pasha perched upon an elephant, gracing the ma.s.ses with a smile that indicated polite acknowledgment of her station. Those awaiting appointments couldn't help but grin in return.

By prior arrangement, Emma pushed her mistress toward the reception desk, where Sara duly requested to speak with "someone in a managerial position" so that she could better "ascertain" her "treatment protocols." Protocol Protocol was a new term for Sara when referring to medical matters. She'd been accustomed to the word being used in relation to diplomacy or other governmental convention and etiquette, but she liked its formal tone-especially when dealing with something as lowly as a battered joint. Then, knowing the "manager" would take a few minutes to summons, Sara had Emma steer her toward a chair near a young, auburn-haired beauty who was studying what looked like a legal textbook. was a new term for Sara when referring to medical matters. She'd been accustomed to the word being used in relation to diplomacy or other governmental convention and etiquette, but she liked its formal tone-especially when dealing with something as lowly as a battered joint. Then, knowing the "manager" would take a few minutes to summons, Sara had Emma steer her toward a chair near a young, auburn-haired beauty who was studying what looked like a legal textbook. Our Ms. Davis is probably trying to figure out how far she can stretch the law, Our Ms. Davis is probably trying to figure out how far she can stretch the law, Sara surmised while fixing her target with an energetic glance. Sara surmised while fixing her target with an energetic glance.

"You're far too young to have a b.u.m knee!" Sara announced, wincing from a pain she didn't feel. Emma immediately began hovering solicitously, but Sara waved her away. "I'm fine, Emma. You toddle off and read a magazine or something while I wait. You've been far too concerned about me these past few days, and you know I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself."

Dawn Davis looked up. Instead of appearing disturbed by the interruption, she also smiled. She's probably sizing me up as another mark, She's probably sizing me up as another mark, Sara decided. Sara decided. A vulnerable, old bat with a servant in her dotage. I must look as if I'd be as easy pickings as poor Walter Gudgeon. A vulnerable, old bat with a servant in her dotage. I must look as if I'd be as easy pickings as poor Walter Gudgeon.