“The police have to look at all angles, Arabella. Don’t take it personally. For that matter, it could be directed at someone else, like Hadley Eastman. Or someone who thinks you’re exploiting hedgehogs. Or even someone who simply likes to stir up trouble.”
“Do you really think so? Because I’ve been going over and over this in my head all weekend, and I can’t see why anyone would want to hurt us.”
At least Arabella sounded a little less depressed, so I said, “I can’t, either. Let the police do their job, and I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of this.” I debated about crossing my fingers to cover the white lie, but my goal was to reassure Arabella. “Have they let you reopen?”
“Tomorrow, they said.” Arabella sighed. “Thank you for calling, Nell. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in all this.”
“Let me know if I can do anything to help, Arabella.” We rang off. I hoped I’d succeeded in cheering Arabella up, because she sounded as though she needed it. At the same time, I was troubled: the police seemed to be edging up on labeling this a murder, and that wasn’t a good thing for Let’s Play.
True to her word, Marty reappeared promptly at noon. I smiled to myself when I heard Eric address her by name and send her directly in. He learned fast.
“You ready to go?” Marty asked, leaning against the doorjamb. She was dressed for research: since our stacks were more than a bit dusty, that meant jeans and sneakers.
“I guess. Where did you want to go?”
“How about that Israeli place around the corner?”
“Sounds good to me,” I said, gathering up my coat. But then, almost any restaurant usually sounded good to me.
“So, what’s up?” I asked once we were settled at one of the restaurant’s small tables. “How’s the hunt for Major Jonathan’s documents going?” Marty spent most of her time at the Society working on the Terwilliger Collection, a massive but disorganized collection of items bequeathed by her family. A number of documents that had belonged to Major Jonathan Terwilliger-Revolutionary War hero, colleague of George Washington, friend to most of the country’s founders, and Marty’s lineal ancestor-had been removed-or rather, stolen-from the Society’s collections, and we were still hoping to get them back.
Diverse expressions raced across Marty’s face: anger, regret, determination. “So-so. The Feebs are on it, as I’m sure you know, but I know the missing items better. We’re still working on it.”
“Speaking of the FBI, I had drinks with your cousin James the other day.”
That pleased her. “Good! Did Jimmy ask you, or the other way around?”
“He called me, on short notice. We had a nice time, we may see each other again, and that’s the end of the story.”
“I won’t pry. But do remember I’m kinda fond of him, so if it doesn’t work out, let him down gently, will you?”
“What, you aren’t worried about
“You can take care of yourself. What should we order?”
Scanning the menu before the harried young waitress appeared occupied the next couple of minutes. When we had placed our orders, I asked Marty, “You heard about the death at Let’s Play?”
“I did. Too bad-they’re good people there.”
“Do you know Arabella Heffernan?”
“We’ve met. You know I don’t have kids, so I don’t get in there very often. But my former brother-in-law was on the board for a while.”
“During Arabella’s tenure?”
“Sure. She’s been there at least a decade.”
“What was his opinion of the place?”
“He liked it, but then, he had young kids at that time. When they graduated to more serious stuff, he kind of lost interest and moved on. I think he said he was sometimes frustrated because Arabella wasn’t very interested in the financial bottom line. She was all about the displays and the programs, and left it to the board to find the money. She’s got vision, I’ll give you that. You have to believe she actually thinks like a child, and it works. Sometimes she got overextended and had to be reined in. But she means well, from what I understand.”
“You think the death this week was accidental?”
She sat back in her chair and took a hard look at me. “I assume you’re asking because you don’t?”
I looked around carefully. Nobody in earshot seemed even slightly interested in our conversation. I leaned forward. “Normally I would say it was just a tragic accident, but as it happens I was there when a similar event happened a day earlier. Luckily that guy didn’t die, but I thought it was odd that the same thing happened twice in two days.”
“Huh. That first one didn’t make the paper. What did the police say?”
“I was summoned before our dear friend Detective Hrivnak, but she didn’t tell me anything. At least they’re looking this time around. Arabella told me she thought they hinted that it was more than an accident, the last time she talked to them.”
“Poor Arabella,” Marty said, then fixed me with a critical eye. “Are you asking if I might know some dirt that would point to why this is happening?”
The short answer was yes. Marty knew everyone in Philadelphia and the surrounding counties, and could tell you who their great-grandparents were, too. Thank goodness Marty was smart, which was why we worked well together: I didn’t have to explain. “Exactly. Right now I’m just collecting information. From all I’ve heard, everybody and his sister loves Let’s Play and would have absolutely no reason to do it harm. I don’t know Arabella well, though-is she hiding some deep, dark secret? Did she used to run a brothel or sell drugs out of the gift shop?”
Marty snorted. “Not hardly. Believe it or not, she’s exactly what she appears to be: a really sweet person who happens to be a decent administrator. There was kind of a stink when her husband left her, oh, twenty years ago, and she struggled for a while. But she seems to have come out of it well.”
I debated asking Marty for details about the husband but decided that I didn’t need to dig up decades-old gossip. I hadn’t been around Philadelphia then, and I hadn’t known the parties involved. And would this husband have waited twenty years to act, if he had a grudge against his ex?
“James and I were kicking around possibilities.” Okay, so now I’d gone and brought up James again.
Marty gave a short laugh. “Sounds like a great date-discussing motives for murder. He have anything useful to say?”
“It was helpful to me to have to put my ideas into words. But there are a lot of possibilities, unfortunately. What I can’t figure out is-assuming it’s not an accident-was the target the place or a person? Arabella’s a sweetheart, and Let’s Play is a real favorite around here. Was it meant to harm Joe, the guy who died? If not, who else could it be?”
“Isn’t there a new exhibit?”
“Yes, based on the
“Hadley Eastman. I’ve got a couple of grandnieces who beg for her stuff, like the day the new book comes out.”
“Do you know her?”
Marty shook her head. “I gather she lives out in one of the burbs. That’s more your territory. And she wasn’t raised around here.”
Unless Hadley’s family had lived in the state for a couple of centuries, Marty probably wouldn’t consider her local. “I gather she’s done well with the books. It’s not easy these days-lots of competition in that market. Or so I’m told.” I had no direct experience with the popularity of current children’s books. “So who benefits most from this exhibit? The museum or the author?”
Marty took a sip of water before answering. “It’s a coup for the museum to get Hadley Eastman-although I hear that her star is waning. You know how long the lead time is for exhibit planning, so maybe things were different when they signed. I wonder what kind of a deal they cut. But Hadley stands to lose, too, if her name-or do I mean
