chemists finally found something, I wondered.
'If you could analyze them,' Jake countered. 'You'd have a hard time doing it; I scattered them, just as she wanted.'
'No,' I said. 'You scattered Mother's great-aunt Sophy. Dad has your wife.'
Jake looked a little shaken.
'Well, if someone did poison Emma, I'd like to know about it. But it wasn't me.'
'You can prove he did it, can't you?' the sheriff said to Dad.
'Moreover, I believe you're really responsible for Mrs. Grover's death,' Dad went on. More oohs and ahhs from the crowd. Jake looked pale. I cringed inwardly. If Dad had proof that Jake had murdered his first wife, he'd have produced it. He was changing the subject. He was bluffing.
'That's impossible,' Jake said. 'You know very well I was nowhere near here when she was killed.'
'Yes, but I suspect an analysis of your financial records will show you hired someone to do it.'
'Nonsense,' Jake said, much more confidently.
Bad guess, Dad. 'Look all you want.'
Dad looked crestfallen. No doubt he was expecting Jake to jump up and confess when accused, the way people do in the movies. People don't do that, Dad, I wanted to say. The crowd was shuffling around, looking embarrassed, and I imagined that any minute now, Cousin Frank would call things to order and suggest they get on with the ceremony. Do something, Dad! But he was simply staring at Jake, obviously waiting for something. Jake stared back, unruffled. He wasn't going to make a slip.
Or had he already? Something that had been tugging at the back of mind suddenly clicked into place. Don't worry, Dad, I think we've got him.
'That was an interesting slip of the tongue, Mr. Wendell,' I said. Jake whirled to face me. Dad's face brightened.
'You said that you'd like to know if anyone poisoned your wife,' I continued. 'Dad didn't say anything about poisoning. He just said he thought you killed her. I think 'bumped off' was the exact phrase he used.'
'Well ... I assumed ... from the ashes ...' Jake spluttered. The sheriff looked interested, but unconvinced.
'But you're right, it's a long time ago,' I went on. 'It would be very hard to prove he did it anyway. So, Sheriff, why not just arrest him for murdering Mrs. Grover?'
'If you have any idea who he hired, I'd be happy to look into it,' the sheriff replied.
'He didn't have to hire anyone,' I said. 'He did it himself.'
'But how?' Dad said, eagerly. I could hear the words 'cast-iron alibi' muttered from several directions in the crowd, and the sheriff was shaking his head regretfully.
'I wasn't anywhere near here when Jane was murdered,' Jake said, smugly. 'So how could I possibly have done it?'
'The storage bin,' I said. 'That's how you did it. And where you did it.'
Jake froze.
'She was accusing you of selling her sister's possessions or giving them to Mother,' I went on. 'I overheard you telling her that the jewelry was in the safety deposit box and the furniture and paintings were safe in your storage bin. She didn't want to wait, did she? The bank wasn't open on the weekend, but you promised her that you'd take her to the storage bin as soon as the party was over. And you did. But she never came back. Not alive, anyway.'
'This is ridiculous,' Jake said. But his voice was shaky.
'Did you drug her coffee with her sleeping medication? Or did you hold a gun on her and force her to take it? Either way, you knocked her out, drove her out to your storage bin, tied her up, and left her there. Then the next day, in between a couple of errands, you asked Mother if she'd mind if you dropped by your storage bin for a minute. What was it you said you wanted?'
'His golf clubs,' Mother said, frowning slightly. 'He wanted to take them with us on the honeymoon.'
'And of course Mother didn't want to go inside your stuffy old storage bin. Right? I bet she stayed in the car reading a bridal magazine while you bashed Mrs. Grover's head in with a blunt object--I'm guessing one of the golf clubs--and stowed her in the trunk of Mother's car.'
'In my car?' Mother said, faintly. 'We were riding around with a dead body in my car?' I saw gleams in the eyes of the two cousins who sold cars.
'He couldn't use his, Mother,' I said. 'It's a hatchback. And then that night, after we all went to bed, you snuck back and put her on the beach. You figured it didn't matter that the autopsy would show she'd been moved from wherever she'd been killed, because everyone would know you weren't anywhere nearby to have killed her. The fact that the body wasn't found for another whole day made it even harder to prove anything.'
'That's all very interesting, Meg,' the sheriff began. 'But I think you're letting your imagination run away with you.'
'Check his storage bin,' I said, turning to the sheriff. 'The U-Stor-It on Route Seventeen, bin number forty-three. Check his golf clubs for traces of blood. I bet you'll also find a lot of other interesting things in his bin, things he didn't plant in Samantha's room, like traces of foxglove plants and leftover stuff from that bomb he planted in Barry's jack-in-the box and a brand-new gorilla suit and--'
Suddenly I felt an arm grab me around the neck and a cold, metal circle pressed against the middle of my back.
'Everyone stay away! I have a gun!' Jake shouted, dragging me with him as he backed slowly away from the sheriff.
'Now, Mr. Wendell,' the sheriff said, in his most soothing tone. 'You don't want to make things any worse for yourself.'
'Any worse! I like that! You're going to put me away for murder, and it's all his fault,' Jake shrieked, pointing at Dad with the gun for a moment before sticking it in my back again. Everyone looked at Dad in bewilderment. 'When we got home from the damned party, Jane told me that she knew how I'd done it,' Jake said. 'It was Langslow and his damned garden that tipped her off. He was going on about common household poisonings. She recognized Emma's symptoms.'
'And she threatened to turn you in?' the sheriff asked. Good. Get him interested in talking and maybe he'll wave the gun again. I was too surprised to make a break the first time, but if it happened again, I'd be ready.
'She said she'd tell if I didn't pay her off,' Jake said.
'She tried to blackmail you?'
'She said if I didn't pay her five-hundred-thousand dollars, she'd give Emma's ashes to the sheriff. She seemed to think you'd still be able to tell she'd been poisoned.'
'So Dr. Langslow inadvertently enlightened Mrs. Grover on how you killed her sister, your late wife, and you killed Mrs. Grover to prevent her from blackmailing you?'
'You can't give in to blackmailers,' Jake said, very earnestly. 'They're like crabgrass; you never get rid of them. And I already had one on my back. It was going to be hard enough to get rid of her.'
'Someone else was blackmailing you?' Dad asked.
'Of course,' Jake shouted, jerking his head in Mother's direction. 'She was!' There were murmurs of astonishment from the crowd, Jake seemed to be enjoying himself now. It was nice that someone was. The crowd was hanging on his every word, and in case they missed anything the first time around, Aunt Esme was repeating everything he said at the top of her voice into Great-Aunt Matilda's good ear. I hoped the sheriff and his deputies weren't getting so interested that they'd forget to rescue me if the opportunity came up.
'Well, I never!' Mother said, in her chilliest manner. 'I can't imagine what would ever have given you that idea.'
'She kept at me,' Jake continued. 'She kept telling me that she knew exactly what I had done, and it was all for the best. She even told me she knew all about the rice pudding.' Everyone looked at Mother.
'Well, I did,' Mother said, perplexed. 'I knew how much Emma liked it, and you were so good to learn how to make it for her. So few men would go to that much bother. I don't see what rice pudding has to do with it, anyway.'
'That was what I fed her the poison in,' Jake shouted. Please, Mother, I thought; don't get him any more excited. 'I thought you knew that! And I almost had a heart attack when I found out you expected me to marry
