Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Nothing at all. There was no ear-splitting alarm. No flashing lights. No guard rushing over to the door to open it. There was only silence. Well, not silence; there was still the occasional moan coming from Kathleen’s dressing room.
“Do you think it goes off at the guard station?” Eldridge asked. “Do you think it’s supposed to be silent?”
“No, I think the point of a fire alarm is to get people to exit the building. That’s why it’s by the exit, so that you can pull it on your way out.”
I waited for panic and dread to overtake me. I mean, it should, right? We were trapped in this building and there had been a murder, with possibly a second in progress. I was exactly where I didn’t want to be. And yet, I knew I only had to get through a few more hours and the doors would be opened, and the murder or murders would be a police matter.
“We’re really trapped in here,” Marc said. “That’s creepy. It’s like we’re in a slasher movie.”
“Sweetheart,” Louis said, “No one’s been stabbed.”
“I meant metaphorically.”
“This has to be deliberate,” I said, far more clear-headed than I should have been.
“You think it was all planned?” Louis asked.
“The doors are jammed, the phone doesn’t work, there’s no key for the elephant door, and the fire alarm doesn’t go off,” I said. “It couldn’t all be coincidental.”
I studied the fire alarm, which was attached to a metal conduit that rose nearly forty feet to the ceiling. Somewhere the alarm had been disconnected, either in the alarm box itself or up on the ceiling. It can’t have been easy or fast.
“Someone put a lot of thought into keeping us in here.”
“That would have to be Donald,” Marc said. “He’s already admitted to having the doors jammed.”
“Other people knew about that though,” I said. “Wendy must have known. Ed might have. The guard knew, definitely. There were negotiations with Amber Bright and Kathleen’s people. Donald probably didn’t tell them we were being trapped inside, but we don’t know he didn’t. Not to mention, we know Alan, the guard, takes bribes. Any one of us could have come by last night or the night before and bribed him to let us have a look around. At that point, the phone line could have been cut and the fire alarm disconnected. I don’t think we can narrow things down quite yet.”
“Well, I didn’t do it,” Keely said.
“Me neither,” Meg said.
I was about to say, ‘No offense, but I’m not taking your word for it,’ when Eldridge said, “It would help if we knew what kind of poison we were talking about.”
“Well… we know it was in the green goop,” I said.
“Which is what, exactly?”
“It’s proprietary, but Louis thinks it’s…”
He took over for me, “Spinach, kale and other greens.”
If my life was a movie, this is where there’d have been a shot of fireworks going off. I’d have had an epiphany, which might have to do with the fact that I was standing with a botanist and a florist. “It would be really easy to mix in some kind of poison plant.”
“You’re right, it would be,” Louis said.
“You’re saying it’s one of us? You think Keely or I poisoned them? I have absolutely no motive,” Meg said.
“Except two years of being called the fat chick,” Marc pointed out. “I’m sorry, but that is what they called you.”
“I remember. They called me that to my face. But that was fifteen years ago. I’ve had a long time to get over it. And I’m comfortable with myself now. I’ve found a particular kind of gentleman who like a bit of booty.”
“Oh my God, you like Black guys,” Keely said.
“I have been known to date a brother or two.”
“Please don’t say it that way.”
“What?”
“It’s just wrong.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Forget it.”
Clearly, Meg didn’t understand. She gathered herself, and said, “So you see I have no motive. Besides, it doesn’t take a degree in botany to know some plants are poisonous. Many of them are. Most will just make you sick. Very few of them will kill you. Not in the amounts we’re talking about.”
“You’re trying to say it’s me, aren’t you?” Keely said to Meg.
“I didn’t say?—”
“You noticed the flowers right away. You made a point of telling me they’re poisonous even though I told you I knew that.”
“Calm down,” Meg said. “Anyone can find out that foxglove is poisonous. Anyone could have added some of that or another plant to the… green goop Louis keeps talking about.”
“So, it’s a coincidence that foxglove is in the floral arrangements Keely brought?” I asked.
“Of course it’s a coincidence,” Keely said. “Look, they’re tall and beautiful, and they give a display structure. And you need structure. You don’t want to just have short little balls of flowers. I mean, yes, some florists sell those flowers in a bowl, but, personally, I hate those.”
“Were you asked to bring those arrangements?” Louis wanted to know.
“Yes, of course. They paid me two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Who ordered the flowers?”
“Donald and Wendy.”
“Both of them?”
“I think so. I got emails from each of them.”
“Did they specifically ask for foxglove?” I asked.
She frowned. “They both asked for the tall, spiky flower with trumpets. I don’t think they knew the name. They just described what they wanted. Wait—do you think they wanted to make it seem like I poisoned Finn and Kathleen? So no one would figure out it was them?”
“We don’t know what’s going on,” I said. “That’s why we’re asking questions.”
“Why would they want to poison Finn and Kathleen?” Marc asked. “Donald seems really happy this is happening. Or was. Now that Finn is dead, who knows if this will get on the air.”
“Wendy is not as excited, though,” Eldridge pointed out. “She seems more interested in the juice business.”
“You’re right,” I said. “But I don’t think she’d use her juice to poison Finn and Kathleen, even if she did want them dead.”
Then I heard Wendy’s voice, “Hello!? Where did everyone go? Louis!”
“Oh God,” he said, next to me.
“Right here, Wendy,” he said as he opened the door to the hallway. We trailed in behind him. Wendy was standing there in the doorway of the Arbuckle dressing room.
“Oh good. Can you get us some cans of 7-Up? We need to try and keep Kathleen hydrated. And does anyone have Pepto Bismol or Tums or anything like that?”
Louis walked down the hallway as Meg said, “I have some Pepto.” She and Keely walked out to the stage to get it from Meg’s purse.
When they were gone, Marc asked me, “What do you think? Do you think Meg or Keely is behind this?”
“You know them better than I do.”
“I knew them fifteen years ago. People can change a lot in fifteen years. Look at me for instance.”
“Keely knew who you were,” I said.
“Did she? I mean, she was only a few feet away when Wendy thought you were me. Maybe she heard the whole thing.”
“Oh wow, I guess you’re right.”
“You’re saying we have no idea if either of them could have done it,” Eldridge said.
“They probably didn’t do anything. But I wouldn’t completely cross them off the list.” The list that was stubbornly not getting shorter.
“Who do you think is most likely to have poisoned Finn and Kathleen?” Eldridge asked Marc.
“They both got preferential treatment and probably more money. I think Ricky resents that more than the rest of us.”
“So he’s got a motive,” I said.
“Maybe.”
“But do you think he planned it all before he got here? Did he bring poison with him? Did he run around cutting phone lines and fire alarms?”
“Maybe.”
I tried to think it through. Could it have been Ricky? He had a mobile phone with him but couldn’t get it to work. That’s why he wanted to use the office phone. But, well, he could have been the one to cut the cord and just pretended he wanted to use the phone. Did he already know the doors were jammed? I wasn’t sure if he’d been around while we were talking about it, but then… he could have tried going outside to use his mobile and found out on his own.
What about the poison? There were lots of opportunities to get to the green goop. He could easily have gotten to Finn’s drink since it was on ice for a long time before Louis gave it to Finn. Did he bring the poison with him? Or did he somehow get ahold of some of the foxglove from one of the displays? Should we have Keely check the displays for missing flowers? Would it have been enough, though? No, Ricky was starting to feel implausible. There were too many could have’s but not enough did’s.
The door to the dressing room opened again, and Wendy said, “Do you mind? We can hear you talking.” Then Louis was there with the 7-Up. Wendy grabbed it without a thank-you.
We moved down to the craft room, and Marc said, “What if it’s her?”
“You mean Wendy?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?” Louis said.
“We were talking about who might have poisoned Finn and Kathleen,” Marc said.
“Right outside Kathleen’s dressing room?”
“Maybe not such a great idea,” I said.
Louis shook his head and said, “I’m going to go check the table. What time is it?”
“Almost four thirty,” Marc said.
“We’re going to start packing up in about an hour or so. I’ll do a last call kind of thing around ten of six, maybe?”
We nodded. What did we know about catering? Particularly catering during a murder. Louis rolled his eyes at us and walked away. I asked, “Marc, do you really think it could be Wendy?”
Marc shrugged. “She could be in there destroying evidence.”
“Or she could just be kind,” Eldridge suggested. “I mean, someone should be concerned that Kathleen is sick.”
“It’s kind of hard to care,” I said. “She’s spent a lot of time saying horrible things about people with AIDS.”
“Where’s Grace?” Marc asked. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She was smoking in the ladies’ room last time I saw her. She thinks Louis poisoned Finn and Kathleen because they’re annoying.”
“Why would she accuse Louis?” Marc asked sharply.
“I don’t think she was serious.”
“And you just let her say that?”
“Louis was right there. He’s a grown?—”
“She said it to him?! And I thought she was my friend.”
“You haven’t seen her in fifteen years.”
“Yeah, well, we smoked together. It’s a bond.”
With that, he started stomping down the hallway. I hurried after him with Eldridge in tow. “Marc. Take a breath.”
“I will not take a breath. This is no time for breathing.”
I looked over my shoulder at Eldridge, and said, “Oh God.”
Moments later we crashed through the door to the ladies’ room. Grace was still inside; she had a cigarette in one hand and what looked like a wad of toilet paper in the other. Her eyes were swollen and bright pink. She’d clearly been crying. Actually, she still was crying. I was bracing myself to listen to Marc yell at a crying woman, when I heard him say, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have come. I thought I could deal with this, but I can’t. Did you find a way out? I can’t stay here. I have to leave. I have to?—”
“Why Grace? What is it you need to get away from?”
Very quietly she said, “Heston.”
“Oh, I see,” Marc said. “Look we’ve all figured out that Finn was his dad, and that Kathleen didn’t actually adopt him. That’s she’s really his mother.”
“She’s not his mother.”
“She’s not?”
“No. I am.”