crimes and we've been kicking around the two killers theory all week. But getting back to the weapon. After O'Clair killed him, she put the piece of wood in her car, which was parked just outside. Later, when she got home, she burned it in the fire that she knew would be conveniently set for her arrival.'
“I'm sure Alden never thought he was in any danger from Evelyn, a mere woman. She definitely had the element of surprise working for her,' Faith commented.
“But she must have had a nasty moment when Faith arrived,' Niki said. 'Thank God you didn't see her!”
“She was wearing a long, dark hooded cloak—used it to open the door and switch the lights on and off, by the way—and it made her virtually invisible in the dark. Her only worry would have been that Faith might hang around too long and the people upstairs would start to wonder where their star was. When we went over the footage, we never noticed she was missing, because the camera at that time was either op the stage or the audience. We knew Alden was gone and Reed and Camson were there. That's all.'
“It almost was the perfect crime,' Faith said.
“Is anybody going to pass those cookies around?' Charley complained.
“How about me?' said a cheerful voice at the door. 'I knew you'd all be here.”
It was Millicent. There was going to be little rest for the weary tonight, Faith concluded, then perked up as she realized that Penny Bartlett was at Miss McKinley's heels. There had no longer been any need for secrecy, so Faith had told Detective Sullivan right away where Penny was, then promptly forgot about her in the rush of other events. Faith was very glad to see her.
Everyone jumped up and embraced Penny, even Niki, who had never been actually formally introduced to the woman before. Settled next to Charley MacIsaac, who was trying to adopt a stern manner toward the runaway, Penny declared happily, 'You have no idea what it means to be home! Not that the people at the Y weren't absolute angels, but I've been missing Piggy—and the plants, too.' Piggy was the totally unsuitable name of Penny's darling Irish terrier.
“Would you like something to eat?' Faith asked automatically, surveying the wreckage spread out on her table—a few sad bamboo shoots floating in a pool of congealed sauce, half a container of rice, one egg roll. It was not very appetizing, but Niki had put the pear crisp in the oven to warm.
“No, thank you. We went out to dinner to celebrate. That's why we're so late.'
“It was like something out of the movies. I was in my room working on some patchwork I'd fortunately remembered to pack, when Millicent called from the lobby and said, `The murderer has been unmasked. Pack your things and make yourself tidy; we're going to the Ritz for dinner.' I don't suppose they hear many messages like this at the desk.”
Faith had to hand it to Millicent. She possessed an ineffable sense of style. The Ritz-Carlton was the perfect choice. Two old friends tucking into their baked scrod or whatever in that elegant dining room overlooking the Public Garden. Two proper New England ladies: one a former fugitive from the law; the other, her accomplice.
“Now'—Millicent had determinedly wedged a chair between Pix and John Dunne—'what have I missed?”
Tom dished up the pear crisp while Niki added a generous amount of whipped cream to each serving. Those at the table took turns relating the story so far.
“How did you know it was all right to get Penny?' Faith asked, digging into the portion of what she knew to be a scrumptious dessert. She had assumed that after the police were informed of Penny's whereabouts, they would have picked her up.
“Well, we heard the woods near the Pingrees' were on fire and Ed Hayes, who's one of the volunteers, called his wife from some sort of phone in his car he seems to think he needs in order to be a good plumber. He told her you'd been locked in the RV and had set the fire to get somebody to let you out, which was extremely foolhardy, I must say, Faith. You know that's conservation land.' Millicent actually shook a finger at Faith.
Faith had known it would come up sometime. She hadn't thought it would be so soon.
“You were tampering with a protected area. Thank goodness merely a few alders and some brush were destroyed.' The way Millicent was talking, one might have assumed this particular area was the last remaining stand of virgin timber in New England. In fact, it was a reclaimed swamp.
“So, we all knew something was going on and I went down to the police station. Dale told me this actress had been arrested, and I went straight to Penny.”
Pix, God bless her, hastened to direct the subject away from another tirade regarding protected areas that seemed to be swelling from Millicent's direction. 'It's wonderful to see you, Penny. Have you heard? James has withdrawn from the race, so we should be toasting you as Aleford's newest selectwoman.”
Penny looked very surprised. 'Why on earth did he do that?”
Faith did not have the heart—or the strength—to go into the subject at the moment. 'I'll tell you tomorrow,' she promised.
Millicent beamed. This was a victory party. Her victory party.
The actual election victory party Faith attended was a quiet, extremely select one, held at the Town Hall after the ballots had been counted.
The police chief had ceremoniously unlocked the old wooden box and the town clerk started the count promptly at eight o'clock. Aleford, typically, was one of the Massachusetts communities that still clung to its paper ballots. Who would be so madcap as to put all one's trust in a machine? Even though there was no race, the electorate had turned out in full force to cast their votes. It didn't matter how many candidates there were. Voting was a sacred civic responsibility. The predictable result was a landslide for Penelope Bartlett with three write-ins, obviously the work of some of the younger members of the voting population: two for Jason Priestley and one for Mr. Ed.
Penny had asked the Fairchilds to come watch the count, then return to her house for coffee. Having exhausted all available baby-sitting options, they were forced to refuse. Tom convinced Faith to go for a little while, however. 'I know you want to, honey. See the thing through' She'd kissed him gratefully and walked over just for a minute.
An hour later, she was sitting in the Town Hall's kitchen with Charley MacIsaac. He'd brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate Penny's victory and perhaps to make amends for the dressing-down he had given her in private on Sunday for running off and not calling on him. Penny had taken a sip, given him a hug, then dashed off with Millicent to put out the coffee cups for the supporters she expected at her house. Charley had motioned to Faith, 'I've got to lock up here, but let's kill this bottle first. Phone Tom and tell him I'll see you home.”
Tom was amused, and grateful for the call. He was pretty jittery about his wife's whereabouts these days. 'Don't you and Charley start stealing street signs or whatever. Remember the old saying, `Burgundy makes you think of silly things; Bordeaux makes you talk about them; and Champagne makes you do them.' '
“Remember it! I told it to you,' Faith said. It was one of the gastronomist Brillat-Savarin's oft-quoted remarks.
The champagne wasn't prompting them to particularly outrageous behavior, although it certainly hadloosened their tongues. There were no proper champagne flutes in the Town Hall's cupboards, but Faith had unearthed some dusty coupes, washed them, and put aside the jelly glasses Charley had set out.
She held her glass to the light and regarded the pale golden sparkling liquid intently. 'These were supposed to be made from a mold of either Helen of Troy's breast or Marie Antoinette's. I've always favored the latter legend.' Faith pronounced the last two words very distinctly. 'Helen was more of a mead drinker, I'd say. Marie probably had champagne coming out of the taps of her bath.”
Charley thought the whole thing was very funny. 'I never thought I'd be sitting in the Town Hall's basement listening to a slightly tiddley minister's wife tell stories about historic bosoms.'
“Life is like that,' Faith said solemnly. 'I never thought I'd be locked up in a burning trailer by a crazed, Oscar-wielding murderess. I've been saying to Tom ever since this thing started that it was getting pretty hard to draw the line between art and reality. f you filmed all this, Siskel and Ebert would definitely turn their thumbs down.' Faith demonstrated with hers after carefully placing her glass on the counter. 'Two thumbs down. Totally implausible.'
“I agree' Charley was infinitely more sober than Faith but was having just as good a time. 'Still, it is an amazing coincidence that Reed was filming a movie all about jealousy and meanwhile another story with the same theme was going on right in front of all our noses.”
