Dead Hunt

‘‘That’s a good idea. I think someone probably will respond,’’ said Diane.

‘‘I just wanted to thank you. This other information you sent, that analysis of her bone that said she grew up in central Ohio ...well, uh, we’re a small county with a small budget and...’’

‘‘That is paid for by a grant my osteology lab has,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I located a man’s son for him, and out of gratitude he funded the lab for the museum and he set up a trust fund for extras like this, so we can go the distance to identify someone else’s lost child.’’

‘‘Poor fellow. He must have loved his kid. That was mighty generous of him.’’

‘‘Drop me a line if you identify her,’’ said Diane.

‘‘I surely will, and thanks again.’’

Andie brought the mail in to Diane and Diane gave her the signed thank-you letter to send out.

‘‘Kendel is still upset,’’ said Andie. ‘‘She thinks this still makes her look guilty and everyone is helping cover it up.’’

‘‘I know. I don’t know what to do about it either,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’s going to take a while to get her reputation back. I think the fact that we aren’t going to quietly fire her will help.’’

Andie went back to her office and Diane took out the mail and looked through it.

Andie called again.

‘‘Ross Kingsley wants to speak with you,’’ she said.

‘‘Put him through,’’ Diane told her.

She got the copy of Museum World and took off the brown paper wrapper. There was a picture on the cover of the Bickford Museum along with its acquisition of a piece of moon rock. Diane had heard about it and she was jealous. So was Mike. He was ready to go search for extremophiles on the moon. She picked up the phone.

‘‘Kingsley,’’ she said. ‘‘How are you? Recovered, I hope. If you’re calling to go on a road trip again, you can forget it.’’

He laughed out loud. ‘‘I’m doing great. I’m back at work. Joey’s little mouse gun didn’t do much damage. I thought you might want to hear about Clymene and her family. I still can’t think of her as Iris.’’

‘‘Go ahead,’’ said Diane. She flipped through the pages of the magazine, looking at the pictures. She heard him sigh.

‘‘Where do I start? Ma and Pa are being evaluated. We don’t quite know what to do with them. The sisters had made a lavish apartment for them on the upper floor and locked them in it. Their punishment for being the worst parents of the century was to be forced to live together. When they got too rowdy, they were put in the outbuilding we were in and made to contemplate their behavior. The father, Alain Delaflote, had a mild stroke some time ago. I’m wondering if it was induced somehow, but no way to prove that at this point.’’

‘‘This is so bizarre,’’ said Diane.

‘‘That’s not the word for it. I’m talking twilight zone. You remember how lovely Sarah Wallace is— and she is nine years older than her sister, Jerusha Delaflote.’’

‘‘Yes, I thought Sarah Wallace was a very attractive woman,’’ said Diane.

‘‘Well, did you ever see a movie called What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? Bette Davis played Baby Jane, an aging former child star.’’

‘‘I’ve seen it,’’ said Diane.

‘‘Jerusha is Baby Jane. And at five years younger and a hundred pounds heavier than her husband— well, you said it, payback’s a bitch.’’

‘‘I’m glad I didn’t wait around for them to be brought out of the secret room,’’ said Diane. ‘‘How is Rose?’’

Diane came to the article on the Bickford Museum and its new director, Brenda McCaffrey, formerly from the Pearle, and raised her eyebrows.

‘‘She’s doing well. The doctors had to repair her shoulder joint, but she’s already made a full recovery. The various jurisdictions where Clymene and her many deceased husbands lived are trying to make their cases to prosecute Clymene, but they are not making much progress. Too much of the evidence is just circumstantial. They don’t have any cotton balls like you did.’’

‘‘How about the baby kangaroo?’’ said Diane, though she was now only half listening.

‘‘Joey’s in some hot water. He’s been arrested for killing Rev. Rivers and for drugging us. Lily and Rose are being charged with kidnapping and assault on police officers,’’ he said. ‘‘It’s all a tangled mess.’’

‘‘But very interesting for your book,’’ said Diane.

‘‘Very. Instead of a couple of chapters on Clymene—I suppose I should call her Iris—it’s going to be a whole book. Seriously, I think we make a good team,’’ he said.

‘‘I thought we were pretty pathetic,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I mean, curtain rods were the best we could do?’’

Kingsley laughed again. ‘‘You may be right,’’ he said.

After they hung up, Diane called Agent Jacobs.

‘‘Diane. Hello. Good to hear from you,’’ he said.

‘‘I wanted to thank you for helping us out with the Egyptian government. They were most gracious.’’

‘‘I really didn’t do much,’’ he said. But Diane thought otherwise.