Lisa, more traditional, wore deepest black. In deliberate contrast, Caspar Snellen, whose bad taste knew no bounds, had on a plaid jacket and a violently pink shirt. At least he'd stayed away from the funeral itself and turned up only for the food afterward.
Whitney Abbot looked exhausted and wrung out, and Georgia Snellen seemed to have aged a decade or so during the week. Jane assumed the older couple who walked in with the cemetery crowd were Regina's aunt and uncle.
When nearly everyone had a plate, Babs took a place near the front door and the room fell silent. 'This probably isn't the time for speeches,' she said, 'but on behalf of the board of directors and Regina's friends and family, I want to thank all of you for being so kind and organizing this event. This is a sad day for all of us, but in a sense, Regina's vision will remain as we move the Snellen into the future.”
She spoke for a few more minutes. The wordsconsisted of formal platitudes, but Babs's musical voice made them seem very personal and sincere. After she had finished and sat down, other conversations sprang up, making the entry hall appear to hum.
The board and staff of the museum were seated at two adjoining tables, and as Jane examined something that looked like breaded peppers, Whitney approached Jumper, at the other end of the table. Whitney pulled up a chair and said, 'Cable, I need some advice. Not exactly legal, but—'
“I'll be glad to help if I can,' Jumper said.
“Well, I got a call from Regina's personal attorney this morning, asking me to come by his office. She'd left a letter with him a week or two before her death. Sealed. Addressed to me. It was — well, I can't think of another word for it — an accusation.'
“Accusation?' Jumper repeated, looking alarmed.
“Yes. Very upsetting. She told me something about her life I hadn't known and expressed her concern that she might be in danger.'
“From whom?'
“I'd rather not say right now. I don't know what to do. Regina might just have been imagining it all, and if I turn it over to the police — I don't know — they might jump to a conclusion that was only a suspicion on Regina's part.'
“Whitney, you've
Whitney ran his hand through his tidy hair, an uncharacteristic movement. 'Okay, okay. I guess I knew that's what you'd say. I know it's the right thing to do. It's just that—'
“It's the only thing you can do,' Jumper said. 'Do you want me to phone for you?'
“No. No, I'll call now.'
“Use the phone in Regina's — I mean, Sharlene's — office. It's more private. I'll come with you if you want.'
“No, thanks. I want to think about it a little more. I could be seriously harming someone. Thanks, Cable.' With a weirdly formal handshake, he wandered off.
Jane assumed the pepper she was nibbling was probably good, but her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow it. Shelley, sitting beside her, was nervously tapping her unused fork on the tablecloth. Time seemed to slow to a glacial pace as they sat there, unheard conversations washing over them.
“I can't stand this,' Shelley whispered. 'What if we're wrong?'
“We're not wrong,' Jane said. 'But if it doesn't work, we've just made fools of ourselves. It won't be the first time.' Her voice shook with nerves.
They got up and took their plastic plates to the big wastebasket that had been set up by the front door, then moved slowly closer to the door to the staff area, where they stood silently for agonizing minutes.
Suddenly there were muffled sounds from behind the closed door. Shouts, scuffling, a door slamming. Jane clutched Shelley's hand and they stared at each other. There was a cry from behind the door, and it swung open.
Mel and a uniformed officer came through, each of them holding one of Lisa Quigley's arms. She was struggling weakly and sobbing incoherently. Mel looked at Jane and nodded.
As they threaded their way through the crowd, everyone fell deadly silent. Jane felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Babs, her face as white as the collar of her dress. 'Where are they taking Lisa?' she asked.
“To jail,' Jane answered sadly.”
'. so Whitney agreed to stage that conversation with Jumper when he knew Lisa was listening?' Babs asked.
Babs, Sharlene, Shelley, and Jane were the only ones left at the museum. All the tables but one had been put away and they were sitting around it, finishing off the dregs of the coffee from the big urn.
“He and Jumper rehearsed it,' Jane said. 'Then there really wasn't a letter from Regina?' Sharlene asked.
“Pure invention,' Shelley replied. 'But Lisa didn't know that. And she couldn't take the chance of Regina 'telling' the police who'd killed her. And Regina might have really written such a letter after Lisa wrote her that threatening note. The one you found in the Dumpster, Sharlene.'
“How did you ever figure this out?' Babs asked Jane.
“You and Shelley each figured half of it out,' Jane said. 'I just put the two halves together. You were talking to Jumper about passions and sex, and earlier, Shelley had suspected Whitney and said something about 'if I can't have her, nobody can.' She thought maybe Regina had finally decided not to marry him and he might have felt that way. In fact, it was the opposite. Regina had decided to commit herself to marriage, and it was Lisa who was the jealous lover. The Woman Scorned.'
“Lover?' Sharlene said, a blush creeping up her throat. 'Regina and Lisa were lesbians?”
Jane nodded. 'But Regina must have been bisexual, forced to choose between two people she loved — one a man, one another woman. Once I thought of that, everything else fit and made sense in a horrible way. It was Lisa who set up the reenactment, you remember. We all saw it as a wonderful promotional gimmick, but Lisa meant it as a way to stage a murder in plain sight and cast suspicion on everyone else. Regina had waffled about marrying Whitney and if she'd decided to stay with Lisa, nothing would have happened at the reenactment. But when Regina said she and Whitney were going to announce their engagement at the groundbreaking, her fate was sealed.'
“But what about Derek?' Sharlene asked. 'What could he have possibly had to do with it?'
“Absolutely nothing,' Jane said. 'Poor jerk.He was mad at Jumper and made what he considered nasty remarks about a bunch of people. He said Jumper's friend the anchorwoman was frigid and that Regina was a lesbian. He was just throwing out excuses for why neither of them had fallen into his arms. But Lisa must have heard just the lesbian part and was afraid he knew something. What's more, even if he didn't, if he'd repeated it to enough people, eventually someone might take it seriously and realize the nature of their relationship and that there was a lot of about-to-be-thwarted passion* to account for.”
Babs stood up and took their empty coffee cups to the trash while Sharlene folded the tablecloth and Shelley and Jane folded up the table. 'I still don't see what Heidi had to do with it, though,' Sharlene said.
“Nothing,' Jane said. 'Remember that man who told you about the pea his family grew during the Depression? Caspar overheard the conversation and decided there might be seeds of it in the pea bin. That's why his fingerprints were all over it. But old Auguste had hidden the peas inside the cat. They might be valuable if they can be made to grow. I had Mel take the stuffed cat and the ledger away just to keep them from Caspar.'
“But why was Derek killed the way he was, then?'
“I'm not sure we'll ever know,' Shelley said, looking daggers at the fingernail she'd just chipped on the folding table. 'My guess is that Lisa lured him down to the basement somehow, smacked him in the head with something, then realized to her horror that he was merely unconscious, not dead. Maybe she couldn't bring herself to hit him again. Or maybe she was just plain crazy at that point. I imagine her eye fell on the pea bin and she figured if she stuffed his mouth and nose with peas, he'd suffocate. Maybe it even crossed her mind that doing that would confuse the time of death and allow her to establish an alibi. She hadn't taken time to carefully plan Derek's murder — well, who knows? She was desperate. She'd already killed her lover. She was terrified of getting caught, and terror can make anyone irrational.'
