Mike was right, she thought sleepily. If the obvious conclusion — murder — was right, somebody they knew had probably committed it.
Jane was up early, having her coffee in front of the little kitchen counter television. She tuned to the station Lance King had worked for. When the local news came on, she was astonished to see Ginger doing a live feed. She'd tidied up her hair and was standing on the street in front of the Johnsons' house. 'Lance King, a familiar and popular reporter for this station, died here last night,' she said, not sounding the least nervous at her elevation from assistant/gofer to reporter.'In a freak accident, King fell from the roof of this home and suffered fatal injuries. The police are not saying if they've determined whether it was an accident or foul play. Further reports will be made on the noon news and this evening we'll have a report on Lance King's life and career. Back to you, Ann.”
Ann and Charles, the morning anchors who could have passed for Barbie and Ken, looked suitably solemn for a few seconds, then Ann smiled and launched into a piece on local children's activities during the holidays that harried moms and dads could take the kids to. Jane turned off the television and went to the front window.
Ginger had divested herself of her microphone and was heading for Jane's front door. Jane opened it for her and invited her in. 'I just saw you on the news,' Jane said, leading the way back to the kitchen. 'You looked great and sounded very polished.' She got down a fresh cup and poured coffee for Ginger.
“I hope I didn't flub anything,' Ginger said. 'Do you know anything more that you weren't saying?' Jane asked bluntly.
“No, not really. But I've been at enough crime scenes to know what one looks like. I'm sure the police are considering it a murder.'
“And you believe it was?”
Ginger nodded. 'You can't go through life making people miserable without somebody fighting back eventually. I suppose it could have just been a tussle and Lance slipped, but I don't think most people would choose a snow-covered roof to stage a fistfight.'
“Ginger, I hate to point out the obvious, but at least one person has already benefitted from Lance King's death.'
“You mean me. I know. Makes me look suspicious, doesn't it?' she said almost cheerfully. 'But I never left your house. I stayed inside chatting with people. You have awfully nice neighbors, you know.”
Jane shook her head. 'You helped the other people with the crew take the equipment outside to set up.”
Ginger didn't seem the least alarmed by this semi-accusation. 'Oh, yeah. That's right. But I was with all the guys the whole time. Say, you don't really think—'
“No, I don't think you killed him. Although how you resisted the urge is beyond me. I'm just thinking out loud.”
Ginger was sitting where she could see the driveway. 'Oh, a little red MG just drove in. Neat car.'
“That's Detective VanDyne. And I'd be grateful if you'd let him in while I pull myself together.”
Jane raced upstairs to dress and fling a comb through her hair. She could hear the shower running in the kids' bathroom and a quick peek in their rooms revealed that they were all still asleep so it must be Addie. It was another overcast day and her bedroom looked dreary. She opened the curtains to let what little sun there was come in and stared for a moment at the Johnsons' house next door. The ladder was still in place at the back and there were two men in the backyard. They drifted in and out of viewand she couldn't tell what they were doing, but suspected they might be trying to fingerprint the ladder. She couldn't see the roof itself from her angle.
When she got downstairs again, Shelley was there and Mel appeared to be dismissing Ginger, who didn't want to be dismissed.
“Look, you're a witness and acquainted with the dead man,' he explained. 'As such, I need to know your movements and impressions. But you're also a reporter and you don't have any right to listen in on other people's reports. You should know the system. We'll tell you all we can without jeopardizing our investigation.'
“Okay, okay,' Ginger said grudgingly. 'But it doesn't hurt to try, does it?”
She gathered up her coat, set her coffee cup in the sink, and left.
“What an irritating woman,' Mel groused. 'Oh? I sort of like her,' Jane said.
“Do you think she's truthful?'
“I don't know her well enough to guess. What were you asking her about?'
“Her movements and Lance King's work habits.'
“Hard to think of what he did as work,' Shelley put in. 'What did she say?”
Mel got up and poured himself some coffee. 'She says he was very secretive about what he was investigating. She now remembers that he kept all his notes on computer disks, never put anything on the hard drive at his office or on his laptop. I wish she'd remembered that sooner. There were no documents on the laptop. Only his bookkeeping and some games.'
“Games?' Jane asked. 'He's the last person in the world I'd have expected to play any kind of games.”
Mel ignored this observation. 'I have a man checking his office computer, but it sounds like he's going to come up empty, too, if Ginger's right. She says he always kept his current disk on his person, but he didn't have it when he was found in the Johnsons' front yard.'
“Somebody stole it?' Jane asked.
“Maybe,' Mel said. 'Or forced him to hand it over before pushing him off the roof.'
“So whatever he was threatening to reveal about somebody is gone,' Jane said. 'I can't say I'm exactly sorry to hear that.”
Shelley said, 'But that means it's in someone else's hands. Someone who is capable of killing another person. Maybe somebody who's unethical enough to use the information King had on other people.”
Eleven
“Jane, get a large sheet of paper, would you?' Mel asked. 'I need you and Shelley to map out this block.”
The only big sheet of paper Jane could find was the back of a piece of Christmas wrapping. 'So you want a box for each house?' she asked, already sketching out squares.
“Number them, if you can,' Mel said. 'Ooh,' Shelley said. 'We're doing police work on Santa wrapping.”
Mel glared at her. 'Not exactly,' he said. 'Just helping me get my bearings.”
Jane had completed her boxes. 'Mel, this one's vacant. The owners were transferred to Seattle before it sold.' She put an X in the box and glanced at him.
He just nodded, still cranky about Shelley's remark.
Jane went on. 'There are three older couples who couldn't come because they were going to be out of town visiting their children and grandchildren over the holidays.'
“You're sure they were actually gone?' Mel asked.
“No, maybe not, but that's what they told me. I suppose it's possible they just made that up as an excuse, but it's not likely. The people in this house had tickets for the family to go to a musical last night,' she said, entering another X. 'And this one belongs to a couple of revoltingly fit yuppies who are spending the holidays in Bermuda. This one is Mrs. Eldridge, who was committed to have her bridge club at her house last night. I think those are most of the 'regrets' I got.'
“Okay, now let's talk about who
“Well, the Johnsons, of course.'
“The hillbillies next door?' Mel asked. 'Were they here between eight-thirty and nine-thirty?”
“Why the times?'
“At eight-thirty I was watching Todd walk the little girl home,' Mel said. 'I looked at the Johnsons' decorations. No sign of a dead Santa and I'm sure I'd have noticed if there had been a struggle going on up on the roof.'
“And at nine-thirty Julie discovered him,' Jane added. 'I see. I think the Johnsons were here the whole time. Billy Joe couldn't even walk through the house in his snowman costume without knocking things down. I can't imagine how he could have climbed a ladder in that outfit.'
“Unless he removed it,' Shelley said.
“Looked to me like it would have taken a helper to get him in and out of it,' Jane said. 'Didn't it button up the
