being 'oblong.' Before I even opened it,' Jane said, 'I called the place where I ordered it and said that it looked rectangular in the picture. I was told that 'oblong' meant rectangular.'
'I thought 'oblong' was a thing that was longer than it is wide, and curved into circles at the end,' Mel said.
'So did I,' Jane said. 'Another perfectly good word trampled. 'Rectangular' is apparently not politically correct. Or maybe the people at the catalog thought they were synonymous — and maybe they are.'
Mel was silent for a moment, then asked, 'Who would have thought a murder could cross over into grammar? I'll ask the pathologist exactly what 'oblong' means to him. There is a weight missing.'
'What kind of weight?'
'Something to do with raising and lowering the background scenery that goes up or down depending on the scene. Of course, there hasn't been a play there for a long time, and it could have been missing for years. Or only days. The young men who are painting the background of the room this play takes place in were looking for the rope and counterweight and couldn't find it.'
'Would the missing weight be the oblong object?'
'Maybe. But if it had been there for a long time, there probably would have been signs of dust or rust in the wound.'
'Was it a sandbag, maybe? Didn't old theaters use those?'
'I haven't the slightest idea,' Mel said.
'Neither do I,' Jane admitted. 'It was just a fleeting thought. Probably because I saw some black-and-white movie that was set in a theater and a sandbag was dropped on somebody to kill them. Or maybe it was some mystery novel I read.'
'Not through the ceiling of a dressing room, Jane.' He said this with a hint of a yawn. 'I'll ask about the definition of 'oblong' in the morning.'
'Wait a minute. There are two things you haven't mentioned. Who found Denny and when?'
'The janitor from the college. He apparently comes in late at night or very early in the morning to replace toilet paper and paper towels, sweep the floors, and clean makeup off the counters in the dressing rooms before anyone's using the place. Around six o'clock in the morning, he said.'
'How long had Denny been dead? Could the pathologist tell?'
'At least since midnight. Maybe earlier. Why do you ask?'
'Just because I didn't know, I suppose. Does everybody connected to this play have a good alibi?'
'We're still questioning everyone. So far, almost everyone involved in any manner claims they do. Except you and Shelley. I've crossed both of you off my list of suspects,' he said with a laugh. 'But I'm always more inclined to believe the ones who admit that they simply went home and fell asleep in front of the television. Good night, Janey. Wish you were here with me. It's a nice cool evening for a change.'
'Me too,' she said with what she meant to sound like a kissing noise but ended sounding more like slobbering.
Jane went back to her book and found herself thinking about the murder weapon. It could be her definition of 'oblong,' but also rounded. So it could be a bottle. But a glass bottle would be sure to shatter if it were swung with a hard enough blow to break bones, wouldn't it? And a plastic water container would have burst. Surely the police would have noticed broken glass right away or puddles on the dressing table. Same for a sandbag. It would surely have lost some of the sand and the floor would have been gritty. She'd glanced into some of the dressing rooms early on and none were carpeted.
Not my problem, she kept telling herself, and
went back to wondering about what the sharp double-pronged object that had killed someone in the book she was reading might have been.
She herself had a set of double-pronged sharp forks to lift a big turkey out of her deep roasting pan. But the book she was reading was set in Yorkshire, England, and there had been no mention of anyone cooking a huge turkey or an enormous roast beef.
She finally gave up on both the real murder weapon and the one in the book and turned the light off. An hour or so later, she rose again and turned on the attic fan while she was roaming around. The heat wave had finally broken.
Saturday morning, Jane stayed in bed late to finish the book she'd been reading, and found out what the weapon had been in the book. The clue had been well buried. She hoped she could bury her own clues that well. She went back to typing up a few other ideas for the book she herself was writing. None involved the weapon in the mystery she'd read.
When she'd put her new ideas into the outline and finished another half chapter, she cleaned up the mess the kids had made of the kitchen table, then succumbed to the lure of her needlepoint project. It took her a full hour to replace the triangle that had been such a failure before. And thecanvas had lost some of its stiffness, so she had to be very careful not to let it stretch or sag.
There was another rehearsal already planned for Saturday. This time they wouldn't cater, because Shelley said most of the students didn't have late Saturday classes and could find their own dinners. She was only providing bottled water, a few sodas, a large carafe of coffee, and would bring along some chips or store-bought cookies.
But Imry threw another wrench into the mix. 'Since we missed one rehearsal,' he announced as they assembled, 'I'm rescheduling for Sunday afternoon from one to four.'
'I'm sorry, but we're not available then. I'm spending Sunday with our daughter and grandchildren,' Ms. Bunting said quite firmly. 'I've promised to take them to lunch and the zoo since it's cooled down a little.'
'And I'm committed to taking a group of schoolchildren on a walking trip along the lakeshore,' Jake said. 'They're inner-city kids I volunteer to take somewhere every Sunday afternoon.'
Denny's replacement, Norman Engel, had other plans as well. He had his parents visiting from Indiana for a family wedding. Joani also claimed she was busy, declining to explain what the appointment was.
'Then we'll do it Sunday night. You can provide catering, can't you, Ms. Nowack?'
'Not on such short notice,' she replied. 'And the rest of the group will probably still be busy. Afternoon weddings go on forever. And anyone who takes on a mob of kids for a whole afternoon is entitled to rest later. I myself have other commitments as well. A bake sale at our church.'
Jane looked surprised, then realized this was simply Shelley's way of thwarting Imry.
'Then we'll just have to meet earlier Monday, and work later,' Imry said.
This raised another storm of protest. Most of the college volunteers were enrolled in the intensive summer- school session, in which classes started early and went on until at least five-thirty to qualify for the credits for a full semester.
Imry was forced to give up — slightly. 'Then we'll just add an extra half hour to each evening's work.'
Apparently the people who had objected to Sunday had no good reason to object as strenuously to a half hour here or there for a few days.
'A bake sale?' Jane said as she and Shelley left the theater later.
'I thought it was an honorable excuse.'
'I don't imagine anyone believed it,' Jane said, eating the last two chocolate chip cookies that were left. 'Didn't you see Tazz and Ms. Bunting exchange smiles?'
'I'm sure you're mistaken,' Shelley huffed. 'Probably neither of them has ever been to a church bake sale.'
