Silver Scream : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

dining room. “What’s going on?” she demanded of Judith. “Why are the police here?”

Judith put a hand out to the other woman. “Oh, Ms.

Best, I don’t know how to say this—except that Mr.

Zepf is dead.”

Winifred clutched at the front of her deep blue

bathrobe. “Dead? As in . . . actually dead?”

Judith supposed that to someone in the movie business, dead didn’t always mean losing one’s life. “Yes,

as in expired. We don’t know what happened.” She

glanced over the top of the swinging doors into the

kitchen. “They’re taking him to the morgue. We’ll

know more later.”

“Oh, my God!” Winifred swayed, then caught herself on the big breakfront. “His heart! Maybe he had a

heart attack! He was complaining of a terrible

headache earlier.” She pulled out one of the diningroom chairs and collapsed onto it, her slim body convulsing.

Judith glanced at Joe, who was answering routine

questions in the kitchen. She heard a squeal from Mercedes Berger as Joe mentioned Dirk Farrar’s name.

“Ms. Best,” Judith began, “do you want to have the

medics check you out?”

Winifred shook her head. “I must see Bruno,” she finally said, but couldn’t get to her feet. Winifred fell

back into the chair as a knock at the front door made

Judith jump. She hurried into the entry hall and peered

outside. Under the porch light she could see Dade

Costello, still in his costume and dripping wet.

“Mr. Costello!” she exclaimed, opening the door.

“What are you doing out in this rain?”

114

Mary Daheim

Dade made an angry gesture toward the cul-de-sac.

“What are they doing out here?”

Closing the door behind the screenwriter, Judith

glimpsed the emergency vehicles, their lights still

flashing. “I’m afraid I have bad news—”

“I don’t need any more bad news tonight,” Dade

broke in. Without another word, he stomped upstairs.

“Oh, no,” Judith groaned. Glancing at Winifred,

who had her head down on the dining-room table, she

hurried into the kitchen but had to step aside as the

medics began to remove Bruno’s body.

“Move, Jude-girl,” Joe said, taking Judith by the

arm. “They’re going out the back way, they need room

for the gurney. I gave them as much information as I

could.”

Mercedes’s blue eyes were huge. “Is it true?” she

asked Judith. “Is Dirk Farrar really under this very

roof?”

“Yes,” Judith answered. “As far as I know.” Nothing

seemed certain on this wretched night. For all she

knew, Dirk could have climbed out a window and been