The Class Menagerie

Jane went back to the kitchen and got more dishes to carry in, all the while mumbling to herself. Were there other variations? Meat? Did meat have any significance? Or tray? She made a third trip and a fourth and went back to the kitchen. The counter was now clear. Nothing else to take in! She leaned back against the refrigerator for a moment, thinking furiously.

Her eyes opened very wide and she turned around to stare at the fridge. She pulled on the door, wondering if Edgar's super-duper appliance had the same features as hers. Yes, indeed it did! A shallow drawer under the middle shelf meant for keeping meats. A meat tray.

But Edgar kept flat boxes of Godiva chocolates in it. Jane pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and started lifting out the gold boxes of candy. At the

back, under the last box, was a little stack of yellow sheets of paper.

Jane grabbed the papers, glanced through, and shoved them into the pocket of her skirt. Then she hastily put the candy back and closed the door. She went back to the living room, where people were milling around the library table, serving themselves dinner. Shelley and Trey had been cornered by the accountant and the consumer rights advocate, who were giving them hell about the nature of the 'banquet' and the money they'd paid for it.

'Excuse me,' Jane said. 'Shelley, I need to talk to you.'

'Now, just a minute, little lady,' the accountant said. 'We got us some business to talk over with Shelley. You're gonna have to hold your horses.'

Jane stepped back, fished the papers out of her pocket and held them up for Shelley to see. Shelley's eyes went saucerlike. 'I'm afraid it's your horses that are going to have to wait; Lloyd,' she said, pushing past him. 'Put those away before somebody sees them,' Shelley hissed as she took Jane's arm and hurried her to the library. She slammed the door behind them and said, 'Let me see!'

Jane laid the papers out on an end table next to the sofa and turned on the lamp. At first glance they didn't seem to mean much of anything. Same names, numbers, many items crossed out. Some starred.

'I have to give them to Mel right away.'

'Right!' Shelley said. She went to the corner where the copier and fax stood and turned on the copier. 'Lay them out,' she said.

They made two copies and Shelley stayed behind while Jane went to the dining room. She tapped on the door and opened it. 'Detective VanDyne—'

Mel was sitting across the table from Trey Moffat's

wife, who looked like a rabbit caught in someone's

headlights. 'Mrs. Jeffry, I'm busy at the moment,'

Mel said sharply. 'If you could wait outside

, for—'

'I'm sorry, but it really can't wait.' Jane came into the room and handed him the yellow sheets.

He looked down at them, then at her. 'Where did you find these?'

'In the refrigerator. In the M-E-A-T T-R-A-Y.'

He smiled at her. 'Good. Good! Thank you, Mrs. Jeffry.'

She all but danced back to the library. Shelley was sitting on the sofa, staring at one of the two copies they'd made. By overlapping the pages, they'd gotten the information from all six small sheets of yellow paper on one page.

Shelley handed Jane the second copy. 'She did a nice job of being obscure. If you didn't know what these meant, you'd never guess, and some still don't make sense.'

Jane studied her sheet. 'There isn't one for Crispy.'

'She must have destroyed her own page.'

Under Avalon's name was a long number and ARK with a date following it. A couple of telephone numbers had been crossed out. 'That must be a case number or something for the charge about the drugs,' Jane said. 'Possibly the date the case was filed, or the date the charges were made.'

'And the telephone numbers are probably the foster care agencies she contacted. I'll bet the starred number is the one where she actually got the information she was looking for. None of the pages have more than one number starred.'

'Pooky's looks pretty much the same.'

'Kathy's is the easiest,' Shelley said. 'It's a list of stock abbreviations and I imagine the figures that follow are the number of shares Kathy has. What are the telephone numbers? Brokers, probably. If nothing else, the police are going to ask the people at these numbers some pretty awkward questions about how Lila got confidential information.'

'What do you suppose Beth's means?' Jane asked.

Bern's entry said 'S. Francisco — Dr. Page — Admissions' and a telephone number with a California area code followed.

'A hospital, it looks like. What would Beth have to do with a hospital?' Shelley asked.

'A mental hospital, maybe. A breakdown?' Jarie wondered.

'And what does Mimi's mean?' Mimi's entry said 'St. Vincent's — admission date?—b.cert.' and some crossed out telephone numbers followed it. 'If starred numbers mean success in getting the information, she didn't get what she wanted on Mimi,' Shelley said.

'Shelley, could you please talk to Lloyd!' Trey Moffat said from the doorway. He was jiggling the baby, who was starting to look tired and cranky.

They hadn't heard him open the door. Jane and Shelley hastily folded and concealed the papers they'd been studying. 'Oh, Trey, just smack him, why don't you?' Shelley snapped. 'This party is your problem, not mine.'

'C'mon, Shelley! The police are grilling my wife! Help me out here!' Trey's good nature had finally run out.

'Okay, but you aren't going to like what I say to him,' Shelley said, getting up and rejoining the group in the living room. Not being especially eager to see bloodshed, Jane stayed back, opened her sheet of paper again, and studied it for a few moments without making any more sense of it. Slipping it back into her pocket, she wandered out to the living room.

Lloyd was sitting down next to the television with a plate of food on his knees. His wife was fussing over him and trying to conceal a smile. He looked like he'd been hit between the eyes with a brick. Shelley must have laid some pretty brutal truths on him. Shelley herself was calmly serving herself from a casserole of scalloped potatoes and chatting with Avalon and Edgar. Much as Attila the Hun must have done after a day of looting and pillaging, Jane thought to herself.

Mrs. Moffat had been turned loose from the glare of police attention and seemed enormously relieved. She was sitting on the sofa next to Trey, playing

pat-a-cake with the baby and making syrupy cooihg noises. Pooky was sitting on the other side of Mrs. Moffat, laughing. Pooky's new friend was standing over her, his hand on her shoulder. Jane was drawn to this pleasant circle. She sat down in the chair at right angles to the sofa.

She had it. She knew somewhere deep in her subconscious all this made sense. If she could just pull out the right pieces and make them fit together.

'Is he headed for the ministry, too?' Pooky's friend asked Trey.

'If he wants,' Trey said, putting his arm around his cute little wife and smiling idiotically at the baby. 'Or the law, or medicine. My only responsibility will be to see that he gets into the best college that money or bribery can buy!' He laughed uproariously.

'What did you say?' Jane asked, sitting forward so suddenly she nearly upset the coffee table with her knee.

'Oh, it was just a joke, Mrs. Jeffry!' Trey said, alarmed that she might have taken him seriously. It seemed he'd just realized that ministers shouldn't make jokes about indulging in illegal activities.

'Yes. I know. The best college…'

'Are you all right?' Trey asked her.

'Yes, fine. Fine. I just — Pooky, what was Ted's father's first name?'

'Ted's dad? The judge? I have no idea. No, let me think — Samuel, maybe. Or Steven. No, it was Samuel. Why?'

'S. Francisco—' Jane muttered.