logic.
I needed two things to happen for my plan to work. One was out of my control, namely that Ida and Ellen were still partners. I could have asked Ida at dinner the night before but when I talked to her I hadn't put my plan together yet. That came after Mark expounded on deck-switching techniques. And even though I had talked to Ellen after that I wasn't about to ask her. Since Ellen and Ida had been partners for at least two years, the odds were in my favor.
The other thing, which I had at least partial control over, was that when Harriet and I played against Ida and Ellen, we would play at the same table and in the same positions as the day of Gerald's death. I was substituting for Gerald.
I arrived at the recreation room early and found Joe Turner, the handsome facilities manager, busily measuring with a retractable tape measure. He had his back to me and I self-consciously patted my hair and wished I didn't look like an old lady.
I tried to think of a clever way to start a conversation, but what came out was, “Are you going to enlarge the room to hold more bridge tables?”
Joe chuckled and turned toward me, saying, “No, we're actually going to replace some of the heating ducts below the floor, but since I don't feel like crawling around down there I'm measuring up here. Something like the guy who loses his wallet in an alley but looks for it underneath a streetlight because the light is better there.”
I fumbled for a riposte, but before I could come up with one the other bridge players began to arrive. Joe took his clipboard and tape measure and left; I hadn't even introduced myself.
I went to work, assigning numbers to each partnership and giving them their schedules. Fortunately, Ida confirmed that she and Ellen were playing together. I gave her the number and schedule I had prearranged for them.
My plan was to have the critical match-up occur in the middle of the session. It was easier to do then than at the beginning and I didn't think the timing mattered, especially since we weren't eating lunch first.
When the time came, Harriet and I were already seated at the key table from the previous round. I occupied Gerald's chair and Harriet sat where she had been on the fatal day.
I signaled Tess, who sat at another table, during the changeover and she started talking to Ellen to delay her for a minute. I had told her she could apologize to Ellen for my behavior at lunch on Monday, if she wanted to, but I couldn't hear what she actually said.
As Ida ambled over to our table she headed toward the wrong chair. I said, “Ida, sit over here so you can legally shuffle this deck, since Ellen has been waylaid.” I dealt first, just as Gerald had done, and I wanted Ida to shuffle, just as she had done.
Ida complied with my request. A minute later Ellen came over and sat down in her assigned seat and placed her purse in her lap. She didn't look at me. Ida finished shuffling the cards and placed the deck on the table to my left. At that point could she have created a diversion and switched the cards? Possibly. Although Ida was a bit clumsy and it was difficult to picture her doing anything that required sleight-of-hand. And if she had accomplished the switch, Gerald would have had to deal the cards without Ellen cutting the deck, which was unlikely.
I picked up the deck and placed it on the table to my right, inviting Ellen to cut. She cut the cards neatly and efficiently. I had always admired her dexterity, as demonstrated by the smoothness of her shuffling technique. As she cut I heard a voice in my mind call out: “Those napkins are going to catch on fire!”
That's what somebody from this table had yelled just before Gerald had started choking-just before the hand had been dealt. I was sure of the timing because I, as the dealer at another table, had been about to deal the first hand, also. And I was 95 percent sure Ellen had been the yeller.
As I picked up the deck I reviewed the situation: Ellen sat facing the table where the lunch had been served. She was also the farthest person from the table in the room. The warning had focused the attention of everybody in the room on the table-and away from Ellen.
I could picture her sliding the deck into the purse on her lap and replacing it with another deck, using both hands in one quick movement. She had the kind of deftness that would have made it easy for her. And during the momentary confusion nobody would have noticed.
Ellen had been sending a signal to Gerald. She was telling him that trouble was going to follow, just as it had that time long ago when Gerald had been dealt 13 diamonds. To be specific, Ellen was telling Gerald that she was his killer! As soon as he started to choke it must have become clear to him-but by that time it was too late for him to do anything about it.
“Lillian, are you in a fog? Come on, deal the cards. We don't have all afternoon.”
Ida's booming voice brought me back to the present and I sheepishly did as she requested. I stole a glance at Ellen sitting there, so calm, being very careful to ignore me, knowing I harbored bad thoughts about her. Yes, she had the kind of temperament that allowed her to do something like that and not have it bother her afterward.
I finished dealing the hand and for a brief moment I wondered if history was going to repeat itself. I knew it was foolish because I had set up this reenactment, but what would happen if I picked up my cards and found 13 diamonds. I would probably have a heart attack right on the spot.
I very carefully turned over my cards and found, to my great relief, an ordinary hand with only three diamonds, all below the jack. In fact, the hand was so ordinary that I couldn't even bid with it. In disgust I said, “Pass.”
If I could prove that Ellen had switched the decks, maybe I could get her to confess to Gerald's murder. To obtain proof, I needed the help of somebody with certain skills. Mark might be that person. I called him when I got back to my apartment and, fortunately, caught him in. After I gave him a short explanation of what I wanted to do, he agreed enthusiastically. We made a date to meet for lunch the next day at my place.
A few minutes later my phone rang. I picked it up and said hello. A female voice said, “Hi, Mrs. Morgan, this is April.”
April? April, May, June…oh, April from San Diego. “Hello, April, how are you?”
“Fine. I'm in Raleigh.”
Raleigh-only a few miles along Interstate 40 from Chapel Hill. “What in the world are you doing in Raleigh?”
“I had to fly out here in a hurry to solve a problem for one of our best customers. I got it solved today and I just have to go in tomorrow morning for a couple of hours for a briefing session. Then I'll have some time to kill before my afternoon flight back to San Diego. I'd like to see you and find out how your investigation is going.”
“Can you come for lunch? Oh…do you have a car?”
“Yes to both questions.”
I gave her directions to my place and hung up the phone. Only then did I remember that Mark was coming for lunch too. And Sandra was attending a teacher's conference for a few days. I hoped I wasn't making trouble for her.
CHAPTER 19
April arrived first, sparkling and pretty in a very short skirt and a translucent blouse. Even if she had known that Mark was going to be here she couldn't have dressed in a way more certain to attract his attention.
She gave me a big hug and said, “I love your apartment. And something smells marvelous. I'm famished.”
“It's called welfare soup,” I said. “The name isn't elegant but it's nourishing. I put everything into it but the kitchen sink, including lots of vegetables, rice and ground beef, so if you're hungry it should fill a crack.” I was making it primarily for Mark, because he was always hungry.
When I told her that Mark would be joining us she said, “Great!” but I had the feeling she would have reacted the same way to Sandra. I filled her in on my suspicions concerning Ellen while she helped me in the kitchen. When she bent over to take an apple pie out of the oven I had to admit that her legs were almost as good as Sandra's. I
