“You're entitled to be upset,' Jane said soothingly.
“How am I going to tell the folks? That's what I'd like to know. It's going to destroy them.'
“You'll find a way,' Shelley said. 'Just don't make hasty decisions.'
“So you're convinced Henry killed Sam?' Jane asked.
John Claypool's mouth fell open for a second, then he sputtered, 'Isn't everybody? Of course he killed Sam. Good God! Here's this bum of a guy, God knows what kind of criminal background, goes looking for his twin and discovers he's a rich, respected man. All he has to do is knock him off and step into his shoes. And his big house, and his business. The deal even comes with a ready-made wife. My God, Marge is nuts. Do you think she could have been stupid enough to fall for it? Did she really think this guy was Sam?'
“You'll have to ask her,' Shelley said. 'I imagine she's telling your wife all about it now.”
Bob Rycraft had slipped away after Jane and Shelley had let him off the conversational hook. Now Liz joined them. She had Al in tow.
“Mr. Claypool! I'm so terribly sorry to hear about your brother!' Liz exclaimed. 'This is too horrible to imagine. What can we do? Do you need any relatives notified? How can we help?”
John was bowled over by her forceful offers of help, and muttered vague thanks.
“I understand there was a twin brother masquerading as Sam? Did you know about him before?”
The conversation was a repetition of the one Jane and Shelley had just had with him. Liz kept shaking her head, looking enormously distressed. 'I see they're putting dinner out. I'll take plates to Marge and Eileen. I'm sure they aren't interested in eating, but they might want to just nibble a bit. Al, come along. We'll get some plates and foil from the kitchen and take them some food. Poor Marge.'
“Marge is nuts,' John repeated.
Liz dashed off on her errand of mercy, and Alhung back for a minute, rumbling his own condolences in a low tone and adding that if there was anything the bank, or he himself, could do to help out, John wasn't to hesitate to call him. Then, at Liz's shrill summons, he ambled off.
“So the car dealership does business with Al's bank?' Shelley asked.
John shrugged. 'I don't know.'
“You don't know?' Jane said, thinking he'd misunderstood the question.
John's face, which had grown pale during Liz's forceful expressions of sympathy, turned red again. He scratched at his neck nervously. 'No. See, I'm not a partner. I'm just head of sales. Sam owned the dealership lock, stock, and barrel. Now I guess I work for Marge,' he added bitterly.
“Oh,' Shelley said. 'I've always assumed you were partners.'
“Most people do. And Sam let them. I'd rather it didn't get around, really. God, I'm going to miss him. He was a tough guy to get to know, I guess. Kinda cold. I was the one always flapping my mouth and making jokes. But he was a good brother.”
A heavy silence fell over the table. What was there to say?
“Let me get you some dinner,' Jane suggested.
He waved away the idea. 'Naw, I'm not hungry.'
“But you should eat,' Jane said. 'You're going to need all your energy to cope with everything.”
She dashed off to fill a plate for him. Liz and Al were just staggering away from the buffet table under a heavy load of food for his wife and sister-in-law. Sheriff Taylor and Edna reentered the dining room from the Tituses' private quarters. Edna's face was blotchy and her manner stiff and angry. Taylor must have read her the riot act, Jane thought.
“I need to question you ladies about discovering the body,' Taylor said.
“Okay, but I don't want to leave John Claypool eating alone. Just a minute,' Jane said. She found Bob Rycraft chewing on a chicken wing and trying to look unobtrusive, and ordered him, in the nicest possible way, to take his plate over to the table where John was sitting. She left the two men staring at each other and signaled Shelley to join her. They and the sheriff found a quiet, deserted corner in the lobby.
Taylor sighed wearily as they sat down. 'Okay, tell me the whole thing, from the time you arrived at the campsite.”
They told their story, jumbling it a bit and no doubt frustrating him to near frenzy. He kept asking about times, about weather, about where people were sitting. Now that he realized the importance of their information, he wanted every detail. But so much had happened in the interval that Jane and Shelley were no longer sure of their impressions.
“We had no reason to keep track of time,' Jane explained, 'and I'd lost my watch anyway. As for the weather, it had been drizzly all evening, but we were under a canopy and warmly dressed, so it didn't really matter to us.'
“Okay,' Taylor said. 'Tell me about leaving the site.'
“Sam Claypool had been singing — he had a great voice — and there was a big crack of lightning and a sudden downpour,' Shelley said. 'The young menwho were helping with the dinner put their instruments away and started helping the Tituses pack up. It was frantic. Jane and I offered to help, but they insisted we were guests and shooed us away.'
“Were you the first to leave?'
“I think maybe we were,' Jane said. 'I don't remember anybody in front of us. I do remember hearing Eileen behind us, complaining about getting her slipper wet.”
Taylor refused to be sidetracked with slippers. 'And when did you come back to look for your watch?”
