Grime and Punishment

Dorothy Wallenberg must have been busy with something else, 'cause she didn't even question the idea. She just said, 'Yes, yes, all right. Let me write it on my calendar. Goodbye.' '

“Who's left? Oh, Laura Stapler. I'll bet she was crazy about it.'

“Nearly wet her pants. I could tell over the phone. It was a tough fight, and I nearly bought a security system before it was over. She eventually agreed to come, but said she'd probably have her husband bring her dish for her.'

“So we've got it all set up. Now all we have to do is tell the police.”

There was a long silence on the other end. 'Shelley?'

“Yeah. Who's going to do that? I've already called the committee. And I'm the one who has to arrange to get Edith here. I think it's your turn.'

“Shelley, I'll never ask you to give me another permanent.'

“Not good enough.'

“I'll drive all your car pools the week before Christmas when the kids are berserk.”

“Getting closer.'

“I'll give you all my grocery store coupons.”

“They're probably outdated.'

“Oh, all right.' She took a deep breath and said, miserably, 'I'll take your place as fifth-grade room- mother.'

“All of the above.'

“Yes.'

“It's a deal. I'll call in and report what we've set up first thing in the morning. No point in ruining the whole night for our poor Detective VanDyne. I'll call you when I've talked to him.'

“There won't be any need. The shock waves will probably flatten my house.”

venty-two She was right.

All went well enough through the morning rush. Shelley called to say she'd talked to the Happy Helper people and they'd promised to deliver Edith the next day. Jane started to ask her how she'd managed it, but refrained. Shelley's methods were sometimes better left unexamined. It was enough that she'd accomplished her goal. By the time everyone was off to school and the animals fed, Jane started getting nervous. Uncle Jim was going to work today, and was downing the last of his French toast when the phone rang. A vaguely familiar and frigidly cold voice asked for him, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Detective Van-Dyne in a very poor frame of mind.

Jane silently handed Jim the phone and suddenly remembered something urgent she had to do in the backyard. She wished she had some pressing errand in a foreign country, but the backyard would have to do.

She was pretending to weed under the fir tree when Uncle Jim came out. His tie was askew, his scowl as fierce as any she'd ever seen. Hismovements were deliberate. He picked up a patio chair and banged the front legs on the cement to dislodge some loose leaves. It looked like he was trying to destroy it. He sat down, leaned back, pointed a finger at her, and then jabbed it toward another chair.

“Sit!'

“Detective Van Dyne is a tattletale,' she said, perching on the edge of the chair he'd indicated.

“A grown woman,' he said, shaking his head sadly. 'The mother of three fine, fatherless children.'

“If it weren't me involved, you'd think this was really quite a good idea. I'm sure if you'd just consider it dispassionately—”

The last word was hardly out of her mouth before he leaned forward so quickly she thought he was jumping at her throat. 'Jane, this is the goddamnedest, stupidest, most dangerous idea I've ever heard from a pair of pea- brained females…”

He went on at some length and with a fluency that surprised her. When he'd finally run out of steam, Jane said quietly, 'But the police are going to help us, aren't they?'

“Help you? The police help you?' He threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of furious despair, got up, and stomped inside the house.

“Aren't they?' she persisted, following him. 'Uncle Jim, if this isn't resolved, I'll live the rest of my life afraid that somebody is going to change her mind about stabbing mattresses and stab me instead — or the kids. I see these women all the time, and I probably will for years to come. Suppose I say something in all innocence that the murderer assumes to mean that I know something? It simply has to be brought to a head. Come on, you agree with that, don't you?”

He glared at her, his face red. 'Mel VanDyne is on his way over. You go to your friend Shelley's and both of you stay there and wait. Don't touch the phone. Don't touch a car key. Don't try to figure anything out. Don't think Don'ttalk!'

“Yes, sir,' she said and bounded out the door before he could change his mind.

Shelley was hovering in her kitchen, waiting. 'I saw you out in back getting yelled-out.'

“It's going to work, Shelley. I'm sure of it. If we insist on going through with it, they'll have to at least provide us with police protection, and if they're going to be here anyway, well…”

They waited nearly an hour, then Jim Spelling and Mel VanDyne came over, looking like angry pallbearers. The first twenty minutes were wasted on trying to convince Jane and Shelley that their plan was insane. 'You don't even know this cleaning lady was the intended target,' VanDyne said.

“She had to have been. And if you didn't believe it, why have you been asking all these questions about her and the neighbors?' Jane asked.

“I've asked a lot of people a lot of questions,' VanDyne snapped. 'This is one line of inquiry. I've got men out pursuing several other lines as well, and I don't intend to pull them off their work to help you conduct this little farce of yours!'

“That's quite all right,' Shelley said calmly. 'We're going to do it anyway, with or without you. We just thought it was fair to tell you, in case you wanted to participate in catching the murderer.”

Finally the two men realized it was hopeless and went on to the next stage.

“All right, Janey,' Uncle Jim said, narrowing his eyes menacingly. 'Here are the ground rules. Mr. Nowack has to agree to it first—'

“I'm sure he will,' Shelley said, looking not at all sure.

“Most important, you two women will be out of here from the moment the cleaning lady arrives until it's all over with. Out of the houses, out of the neighborhood, if possible, out of the state! Do you understand that? And I mean truly understand! No clever little tricks, no last-minute changes in plan.”

Jane and Shelley exchanged looks. 'Sure,' Jane said.

“All right,' VanDyne said. 'Here's the plan then. We'll get some men in here tonight. As soon as Mr. Nowack and all of Mrs. Jeffry s children are gone in the morning, you two will make a big public production of leaving. You'll stay away all day.'

“But I have to pick my kids up from school,' Jane protested.

“You can pick them up, but arrange to take them somewhere else. Didn't you mention a mother-in-law? Give me her name and number. We'll call you both there when it's all over. If — and it's a big if — anything happens at all, which I very seriously doubt.”

He can claim he doubts all he wants, Jane thought, but if he doesn't really believe it will work, why are they so vehement about us leaving? 'Sounds fine with me. Shelley?'

“Okay. Now will you call my husband or shall I?”

Having stirred up so much trouble, Jane felt it imperative to be a model of domesticity the rest of the day. She stayed home, ironing and cleaning, and even arranged a peaceful little tableau to greet Uncle Jim when he got home late that afternoon. An early fall fire burned in the fireplace; the dog snored at her feet as she sat mending a pair of his socks. She'd have to hide them and buy a new pair before he could see her handiwork. Having never darned socks in her life, she wasn't doing a very good job. The children hung around all evening, so the subject of Thursday's plans didn't come up.

Wednesday passed in the same way. Afraid she'd somehow give the game away if she talked to anybody, Jane kept to the house. Only one strange incident marked the day. Around lunchtime the phone rang, but when she answered, the caller hung up. A half an hour later it rang again, and after a long silence there was something like a