Thirteen Diamonds Read online

  “Hello,” I said, softly, into the phone, my voice shaky. The noise of the talking inside the room and the fact that I stood outside drowned out the ring for the bridge players; only I had heard it.

  “All systems go,” Tess said. She immediately hung up.

  I walked into the recreation room and signaled Wesley, who was already looking at me, anxious to get started. He got everybody's attention by striking a coffee cup with a spoon and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Lillian has honored us by baking some of her famous apple pies. Let's enjoy them now while they are still warm.”

  As I had anticipated, everybody moved toward the table on which the pies sat. They were purposely not sliced yet; Ellen, who had complimented my apple pie at our ill-fated lunch, grabbed a pie server. So far so good.

  Nobody looked in my direction. Even so, I moved back outside the door and two steps down the hall so I was out of sight from the room. I punched Carol's beeper number into my phone. When the proper tone sounded I punched in the number from her code sheet. Then I quickly replaced the phone in my purse and entered the recreation room. I went to the table to help with the pies.

  When a telephone rang a minute later I pretended to ignore it since it wasn't mine. Ellen raced over to her purse and pulled out her phone. I was close enough to hear her conversation.

  “Hello...I didn't beep you...I don't know...I tell you I didn't do it...I won't....” She hung up without saying goodbye. She walked back to the pie table with a frown on her face.

  ***

  “When Carol called Ellen in response to your beep she knew who she was calling,” Tess said. “She didn't hesitate or check to see whose number it was; she immediately called it. Her first words were, 'Why did you beep me?' She didn't even identify herself.”

  “I'm glad I had you watching her. Was she suspicious when you barged into her office?”

  “Of course not. I followed her in when she returned from lunch, right after I called you from the reception desk. Fortunately, Ophah hadn't returned and wasn't there to see me use her phone. And I had a legitimate question for Carol regarding housekeeping. But I was afraid she wasn't going to make it back from lunch before the bridge club started. I almost thought it was too late to call you.”

  “It almost was. It's a good thing we synchronized our watches. We're getting good at this.”

  “I have more information,” Tess said. “Dutifully following your orders, I talked to Joe.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Joe told me the fire alarm that was set off is the one near the reception desk,” Tess said. “You have to reset it manually to stop the alarm.”

  “Good work,” I said.

  “Listen, that's not all. Because of your interest in Carol, I checked with her secretary. Carol was in a meeting in her conference room all morning of the day Gerald was killed.”

  “Which is near the reception desk.”

  “The meeting ended about noon...”

  “Which is when the bridge club started, back in the days when it included lunch. And when Ellen made a call on her cell phone the day Gerald died. And when the fire alarm went off.”

  “Right. Do I get my gold star?”

  “Two of them.”

  But my euphoria resulting from finding out that Carol and Ellen knew each other better than I had suspected and that Carol might have some involvement in Gerald's murder was already fading, as we sat in Tess' living room after the bridge club. I had more circumstantial evidence that a crime had been committed, but as usual nothing I could take to the police.

  “I don't understand why you think Carol might have a part in this,” Tess said. “Why would she want to see Gerald dead? Does it have something to do with the gift to Silver Acres in his will?”

  I couldn't tell Tess that Carol might be an embezzler because of my promise to Wesley. I said, “It does, but don't worry about it for the moment. Think about the fire alarm; who gave us the all clear afterward so we could go back inside.”

  “Carol did. I remember distinctly; she came out of the same door we did—the one across the hall from the recreation room.”

  “That's what I remember, too.”

  “Joe told me Carol's job when the fire alarm rings is the same as his—to see that everybody gets out of the building. She must have walked from her office toward the recreation room, checking to see that anybody in the rooms along the way was exiting the building. One reason that's important is because some of our inmates are deaf and might not hear the alarm.”

  “Because they're not wearing their hearing aids.” This remark was aimed at Tess, who sometimes forgot hers. My brain, after a layoff, was working again. “How soon after the fire alarm went off did she tell us it was okay to reenter the building?”

  “Not long. Less than five minutes.”

  I got up and paced up and down. “Assuming that Carol was at or near her office when the alarm when off, would she have had time to walk to the recreation room, back to her office and then return to the recreation room again before she told us we could go inside?”

  “No,” Tess said, positively. “Not if she checked all the rooms.”

  “Now for he $64 question. Was she holding anything in her hands when she told us we could go in?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “Nor I.” I stopped in front of Tess. “One of our biggest problems in proving that a murder was committed is that a bowl that might have contained shellfish was never found. Remember, that when the doctor took the casserole dish to analyze, it was the only dish there? There were paper plates for veggies and cookies, but that was it.”

  “Right. But are you telling me Carol might have put the shellfish in the casserole?”

  “Let's assume that's a possibility. If the shellfish was put into the casserole during the fire drill, who would have had the best opportunity to do it?”

  “Carol.”

  “And even if one of our other suspects had snuck back into the building, Carol might have caught her at it. In which case it would have come out unless Carol was in cahoots with her.”

  “You're boggling my mind, Lil.”

  I laughed. “Sorry. Let's concentrate on the question of what happened to the dish that contained the shellfish.”

  “Maybe the murderer just tossed it in the trash can.”

  “But remember, for some reason there was no trash can in the rec room that day. All the paper plates were piled up on the serving table, along with the napkins and plastic utensils.”

  “You're right; I remember there was quite a mess.”

  “Come on, Tess, we have a job to do.”

  “The only job I have remaining on my agenda for today is dinner.”

  “We have to go back to the recreation room.”

  “Oh, my poor legs! Lil, you're going to be the death of me yet.”

  CHAPTER 26

  “It would help if you told me what we're looking for,” Tess said, peevishly. “If there ever was a dish left in here the person leaving it would have come back and retrieved it long since.”

  “Unless she couldn't.” I looked around the recreation room, trying to think like a murderer who had to hide evidence in a hurry. Maybe Tess was right. She, whoever she was, could have stashed a small dish behind one of the folding chairs stacked in the corner. It might not have been noticed in the confusion. Then she could have come back and taken it after the hubbub had died down. If so, it was long gone.

  I remembered Joe doing his measurements for the replacement of heating ducts that ran under the floor. I saw several vents set in holes in the carpet, situated along the walls. I went to the one nearest the serving table and carefully knelt down in front of it, my old knees creaking in protest. The rectangular metal vent didn't seem to be attached to anything; it just sat on the carpet. I worked my fingers under it and lifted. After some tugging I pulled it right out of the hole.

  I could see down the hot-air duct a few feet to where it curved and disappeared from sight. Severa
l tattered cobwebs lined the shaft, but it was clear of anything else. I could picture a small Tupperwear container bouncing down it. Then I spotted a smudge of something near the top of the metal side of the shaft that didn't belong. I summoned Tess to come over.

  She rose, protesting, from a bridge chair, and hobbled over to me. But she absolutely refused to get down on her knees. “If I do it will take a construction crane to get me up again.”

  “If I'm not mistaken,” I said, “this is the remains of some kind of food. We've got to go talk to Joe.”

  Tess looked at her watch. “It's almost five o'clock. He's probably about to leave for the day.”

  “All the more reason to hurry.”

  “But his office is near Carol's. She might see you.”

  “I'll have to take that chance.”

  ***

  Joe's office was smaller than Carol's and not as tidy. Rolls of blueprints leaned against one corner of the wall. His desk was piled high with papers, in no discernible pattern. A photograph stood out from the mess, depicting three children, two girls and a boy, with hair as dark as his.

  His rugged good looks reminded me of my own late husband, Milt, except that Milt had been as fair as Joe was dark. If any of the residents of Silver Acres had looked like Joe I would have considered having an affair, but as it was a long generation yawned between him and me and it might as well have been the distance to the nearest star.

  He wore a clean and ironed work shirt, short-sleeved, of course, that revealed his muscles. His name was sewn onto the front in cursive writing. He grinned at Tess as we walked into his office and said, “Hiya, Tess. We got the roof leaks fixed in those apartments on the west side.”

  “I know,” Tess said. “Several of the residents told me what a good job your men did.”

  “Thanks.” He turned to me. “I've seen you before, but...”

  “Lillian,” I said. “Lillian Morgan.”

  A brief look of surprise crossed his face but he erased it and said, “Lillian—of course.” He leaned back in his swivel chair, which creaked, and clasped his hands together behind his head. “What's the problem now? Squirrels getting into the walls again? Bats in the belfry?”

  “No,” Tess said. She hesitated. “You tell him, Lil.”

  “You remember the day Gerald Weiss died,” I started, tentatively. He nodded. “It was suspected that Gerald had died as a result of eating food he was allergic to, but as far as anybody knows he wasn't allergic to the tuna casserole that was served for lunch. There was something in the dish that may have been shellfish, which he was allergic to, but nobody admitted putting shellfish in the casserole and there was no evidence that it was malicious, so the investigation was dropped.”

  “I'm with you so far,” Joe said. “Is there anything new on that?”

  “I think I know where the container is, in which the shellfish was taken to the recreation room.”

  “Oh…where?”

  “In a heating duct...I'm going to have to show you.”

  “You're kidding.” Joe looked at his watch. “Even assuming you're right, can't it wait until tomorrow?”

  “If I'm right, it's a police matter and we need to get right on it.”

  “Okay, let's go take a look.” He and the chair returned to an upright position and he stood up to his six feet plus height.

  Tess groaned. “I've done enough walking for one day. I don't think I can make it back there again, then to my apartment, back to dinner, and so forth.”

  “You're right, Dear,” I said. “You go to your place and rest. Joe and I can handle it.”

  As Tess limped off I said to Joe, “Do you have a flashlight and some twine?”

  Without asking questions he produced those from two of his various drawers and cabinets, then said, “I'm supposed to meet with Carol in a few minutes. I'd better tell her where I am.”

  Before I could say anything he picked up his phone and punched in Carol's extension. My heart tried to force its way into my throat. It returned to its normal position when he put the phone down and said, “She's on another line. That's okay; we'll be right back.”

  ***

  Joe peered into the heating duct and said, “I don't see anything but spider webs.”

  “How soon does it level out?” I asked.

  “Right away. It runs parallel to the floor.”

  “So anything that was dropped down there would have stopped just around that bend.”

  “Yes.” Joe scratched his head. “I guess there's no way to get at it. Fortunately, we've got a contractor coming next week to replace some of these old ducts, so if there's something there we'll find it.”

  “At least we can determine if there is something there.”

  “How?”

  I opened my purse, found the small mirror I kept there for vanity purposes and pulled it out. “Tie the string around this mirror and lower it into the duct. Then shine the flashlight on the mirror. When it is at the correct angle the light will reflect around the bend and we should be able to see in the mirror if anything's there.”

  “Are you some kind of scientist?” Joe asked, with a hint of admiration in his voice.

  “I'm a mathematician. But I know that with light rays the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection.”

  Joe laughed and did as I suggested. I watched to make sure he tied the string around the mirror in such a way that the mirror wouldn't come loose and drop out. But he was obviously clever at this sort of thing and tied it securely, like a package.

  He lowered the mirror down the shaft while I held the flashlight. Our heads were close together. In my former life I would have been thrilled, but time had taken its toll on my hormones.

  I was actually somewhat dubious about how this would work because I thought it would be difficult to control the mirror, but Joe was very dexterous. He soon had it resting on the curve of the duct at the proper angle so that I was able to reflect the light of the flashlight off the mirror and around the bend. As I steadied the flashlight I caught my breath. Even my old eyes could see an object reflected in the mirror.

  “It looks like a plastic container,” Joe said. He looked at me. “Lillian, you're a genius.”

  The words had a sweet sound, coming from him. “Thanks for your help, Joe,” I said. “Now I'd better go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Well...to the police. They need to be here when the container is retrieved. There may be fingerprints...”

  “We need to tell Carol,” Joe said, emphatically.

  I had almost forgotten about Carol. “Does Carol need to know?”

  “Of course. She's the boss.”

  He left no room for argument. “Okay, you tell Carol,” I said. “I...have to get home to cook my son's dinner. We can call the police later.” I headed for the outside door across from the recreation room, the one we had exited from when the fire alarm went off.

  “Come with me,” Joe said. “You're the one who had the brainstorm. You can explain to Carol why you thought there was something in the duct.”

  Again, Joe left no room for argument. I whipped out my cellular phone and punched in Albert's number. He wasn't home yet, but I got his answering machine and left a message, saying that I was in Carol's office and that I would be home soon. I emphasized the word “soon.”

  As we walked back down the hallway I desperately tried to think of what to say to Carol.

  CHAPTER 27

  Carol was talking on the telephone when we walked into her office, but she hung up almost immediately and said, “Well, hello, Lillian. I understand you attended the bridge club today.”

  Did she have spies reporting every move I made?

  “But aren't you here a little late?” she continued. “Albert will be expecting his dinner.”

  I didn't like her tone. “I was just headed home now,” I said, trying to keep my voice pleasant. I remained standing.

  “We found something,” Joe said.

  Carol immediately
turned her attention to him and said, “What did you find?”

  Joe gave her a brief rundown of our activities. I watched Carol's eyes for a flicker of something, but I saw nothing.

  When Joe finished, she said to me, “So you're still doing your detective work. I thought you had retired from that.”

  “Almost.” I felt very uncomfortable. “But you're right. I really do have to get home.” I turned to walk out of Carol's office.

  “Wait!”

  Carol's voice hit me like an electric shock. I stopped in my tracks.

  “We need to discuss this,” she said. “Joe, close the door please.”

  The walls of Carol's office became prison bars.

  “Sit down,” she said, and we both complied. “Now, Lillian, tell me exactly what you know or suspect.”

  I looked at her and said nothing.

  “When you leave here, what are you going to do?”

  “Go home and cook Albert's dinner,” I said, automatically. “He's expecting me.”

  “Will you go to the police?”

  I remained silent.

  “Don't you think we ought to go to the police?” Joe asked.

  “Shut up!” Carol snapped at him.

  He shut up but looked uncomfortable.

  “Okay, let's go through this,” Carol said, suddenly looking edgier than I'd ever seen her. “We know that somebody put shellfish in the casserole and that's what killed Gerald. I'm sure it was an accident, but nobody has owned up to it, which has made you suspicious. It would have been easiest for Harriet to do, assuming she knew about Gerald's allergy, and she has a possible motive, but there is no evidence that she did it.”

  I glanced at my watch. Albert would be getting home and wondering where I was and why dinner wasn't ready.

  Carol saw my action and said, “You'll be home soon enough. Your theory, apparently, is that the shellfish was added to the casserole during the fire alarm evacuation. You went all the way to San Diego to dig up some dirt on Ellen, but she has an iron-clad alibi. So who does that leave as a suspect—Ida?”