are several pages of clippings on Prince Anton and his sons. From Canadian newspapers and magazines.”
I screeched at him like a cuckolded wife. “And you’ve had this all along?”
He hemmed and hawed. “Actually-no. After I got the BCI report this afternoon, I went back to Violeta’s condo. To make sure we hadn’t overlooked something. Seems we weren’t as thorough as we should have been.”
I forced myself to simmer down. Not an easy task. “So, the DNA and the scrapbook pretty much make the case?”
“Yes, they do.”
“And I was right.”
“Yes, you were.”
“And you were wrong. Not to mention sloppy.”
“Yes and yes.”
I had oodles of questions for him. I asked the only one that counted. “What do we do now?”
Said Grant, “That was going to be my question to you.”
“I suppose the polite thing would be to tell the prince first,” I said. “Before you leak it to the media.”
“I agree.”
“To see how he reacts to the news.”
“Absolutely.”
“That’s what we’ll do then.”
Grant tickled my eardrum with his happy little laugh. “No-that’s what you’ll do. You already know the man. You can better judge his reaction.”
Now I laughed in his ear. “You still don’t believe it’s possible that Violeta was killed because of her royal blood, do you?”
There was another long silence. Another slurp. “Frankly, your theory is just too far-fetched for me to devote my department’s resources to it,” he said. “Especially since I’ve got a couple of much better leads to spend the city’s money on. And then there’s the political ramifications of the thing.”
“Political ramifications? Who gives a flying frog about political ramifications?”
His irritation was growing. “He’s a Canadian, Maddy. And Canada the last time I checked is another country. And I’m not too crazy about getting our fair city into an international brouhaha unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“And I’m not too crazy about getting myself killed,” I snarled.
He snarled right back. “Do you really think I’d let you go ahead with this if I thought you were in any danger?”
“Yes, I think you would,” I said, joking but not joking. “I’ve been nothing but a burr in your saddle since the day we met.”
“Actually well before that happy day,” he said, also joking but not joking. Then he turned into a teddy bear. “Look, Maddy, I don’t think you’re going to be the one finding the murderer this time-the gods do owe me this one- but your interference in the case has already done a lot of good.”
“Good? I haven’t discovered diddly.”
“But you have, Maddy,” he said. “You discovered who Violeta Bell really is. Or really was, I should say. And you found out what actually happened to the prince’s brother. He’ll be grateful as hell. Probably fall head-over-heels in love with you and whisk you away to some smelly old castle in Transylvania.”
It’s always fun sparring with Scotty Grant on the phone. Especially when I get the last jab. “So, while I’m writing my guess-who-your-brother-was letter to the prince, you’ll be following up on your other much-better leads?”
“That’s my plan.”
“Including which one of those two dead husbands was Violeta having an affair with?” I asked. “And whether they’re really dead?”
I’m sure if a cringe made a noise, my ear would have been ringing like the Liberty Bell. “Actually, when I went over the list I counted three husbands,” he said.
“You’re counting the ninety-seven-year-old?”
19
Thursday, August 17
Dear Prince Anton,
Thank you so much for your hospitality the other day. And for the autographed photograph. Given that I showed up at your door like a beggar, you didn’t have to be so kind. You were truly a gentleman.
Sorry to say, I was not exactly a lady. When you weren’t looking, I stole one of your teaspoons and then one of your pipes. I’ll return both when I get them back from the police.
I gave them to the police to have your DNA checked. Not because I doubted your royal lineage, mind you, or suspected that you might be somehow involved in Violeta Bell’s death. I just wanted to see if Miss Bell was truly a member of the Romanian royal family, as she claimed before her murder.
As it turns out, you and Miss Bell are siblings.
It’s all very complicated, but the coroner’s autopsy found that Miss Bell had undergone a sex change operation. Which means your brother faked his death and then sometime afterward had the aforementioned surgery.
I realize that this startling news will be hard for you to believe. And while it would be impolite to discuss the details of my research into the life and death of your brother/sister in this letter (some of those details are a little on the disappointing side, I’m afraid) I will be more than happy to share what I’ve learned with you, should you be interested.
Dolly Madison Sprowls
Head Librarian
The Hannawa Herald-Union
20
Saturday, August 26
Ike and I arrived at the Salapardis’ at six. The invitation was for five. We parked on the street and hiked up the winding asphalt drive toward the house. It was one of the biggest houses in Yellow Creek Township. Which was saying a lot. Yellow Creek is where Hannawa’s new money lives. In houses so showy that even the old money shakes its head.
Most of the new homes in Yellow Creek are fanciful reproductions of the golden past-plantation-style colonials, pointy-roofed Tudors, Victorians with gobs of gingerbread. The Salapardis’ house, however, was quite modern. It was comprised of a dozen or so glass boxes stacked this way and that like the pieces in a Jenga game.
The invitation said it was going to be a backyard barbecue, so we followed the cobblestone walk around the side of the house. “I’ll probably be the only black person here,” Ike grumbled.
I squeezed his arm. “And I’ll probably be the only Democrat.”
He smiled at me the way I wished he wouldn’t. I smiled back at him the way I wish I wouldn’t. We had a way of grounding each other-unfortunately. “Don’t worry, Sweetie,” he said. “I’m sure the serving staff will be Democrats.”
We laughed our way toward the enormous flagstone patio behind the house. Just below the patio was a swimming pool. Below the pool was a horse barn and fenced-in riding ring. Below that was a long sloping lawn sprinkled with dogwoods and blue spruce. Below that was a lake lined with yellow willows.
