“Paul’s take on Jimmy?”
Kay’s face softened. “Jimmy reminds me of Jack when he was young. Paul feels the same way. Although”—her tone was suddenly dry—“unlike Jack, Jimmy’s been a one-woman man since he and Shannon went on a Halloween hayride in middle school. Shannon is volatile and known to flirt. In fact, she dated another guy last summer.” She paused. “Jimmy slouched around looking morose. That’s when he took up hang gliding.”
I quoted Coleridge: “‘And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain.’”
“The old boy had that one right.” Kay’s words were flippant, but her eyes were somber with understanding. “Yet, when you talked to Jimmy, nothing he said suggested an effort to implicate anyone else.”
“Unless”—I felt sad making the suggestion—“he was artfully making clear the extent of Shannon’s unhappiness with Jack. In fact, he may be a wily murderer and still very angry with Shannon. What did Paul say about Margo?”
“Beaten down. She grew up in Adelaide in modest circumstances. She was nineteen when Jack came back for James’s wedding. Jack gave her a big rush and then he met Gwen. He dropped Margo. Later, she married a rodeo cowboy, Rollie Taylor. Shannon was born the next year. Margo followed Rollie on the circuit for a half-dozen years, but he ran around on her. They had a bitter divorce and she got a pretty good settlement. He was a big prizewinner. A few years ago, he was paralyzed when he was thrown from a bull. He needed money. She told him nothing doing. After the divorce, she worked part-time, went back to school, and got her degree. She was a flight attendant for American for a half-dozen years till all the layoffs. She came back to Adelaide because her mother, Phyllis, had Alzheimer’s. Phyllis had been the housekeeper at The Castle for fifteen years. Evelyn and James were happy to have Margo take over her mother’s job and that made it possible for Phyllis to stay here until she died last year.”
Kay drew a string of question marks across the top of her pad. “Margo must have been furious when Jack came home and spent time with Shannon.”
I nodded. “She was angry enough to slip Ryan Dunham’s photograph under Jack’s door. My guess is that after you came, she took the photograph from his box.”
Kay was puzzled. “Why not leave the picture there?”
I had an idea. I hoped I wasn’t right. “Did Paul appraise Margo’s character?”
Kay shot me an irritated look. “Do you take special pleasure in non sequiturs?”
Possibly my swiftness of thought wasn’t appreciated. I resisted the temptation to quote Damon Runyon: “The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, but that’s the way to bet.” However, I felt Kay’s patience had reached its limit. “Someone called Gwen, clearly to set her up for blackmail. The caller may have been Margo.”
“Would Margo commit blackmail?” Kay shrugged. “I don’t think she’d try to get money. That might not be the point. Maybe she wants to turn the screw a little tighter on Gwen.” She wrote on her notepad. “Paul was fair, but he has a negative view of Margo. He’s mostly positive about Alison Gregory. He’s grateful for Alison’s kindness to his wife and he admires Alison’s success, but he said she blocked the establishment of a competing gallery by a friend of his. Alison persuaded the financial backers to pull out. Paul shook his head, said she might have been smarter to welcome a new gallery, the-more-the-merrier philosophy of the big chains when they build across the street from each other. Paul said he understood Alison’s dependence upon Evelyn Hume as a primary customer, but her cultivation of Evelyn sometimes seemed excessive.”
I didn’t find Alison’s focus on Evelyn surprising. Possibly not completely admirable, but definitely not surprising. “If we checked the provenance of artworks purchased by Evelyn, I imagine many of them were provided by Alison.”
Kay looked indifferent. “Jack had a list. We can probably check and see, but I don’t think it would tell us anything. Anyway, Alison is smart, aggressive, and plenty tough beneath the charm. Although I don’t find her all that charming.”
I laughed. “Of course you don’t. You’ve never fawned over anyone in your life.”
“Thanks.”
I was glad that she cared what I thought of her. That was definitely a step forward.
“However, speaking of fawning—”
Two minds that worked as one. I nodded. “Laverne and Ronald Phillips.”
“Scum. That’s how Paul sees them.” Her face furrowed. “Diane’s their golden goose.”
“There’s a séance tonight?” I spoke with distaste.
“Every Wednesday at eight in the library. Diane told me all about it. Breathlessly. I’ve heard what James says and how happy he is to be with her.” Kay shook her head. “Poor Diane. She’s easy pickings for the Phillipses.”
“Who attends?”
“Diane and Laverne. As you would imagine, Jimmy thinks it’s all nuts and Evelyn has no patience with the supernatural.” Kay abruptly looked gleeful. “It would be a hoot to introduce you to Evelyn as my ghost-in-chief. She’s so arrogantly in command. I’d like to see her in a situation she couldn’t control. Come on, Bailey Ruth, how about it?”
I was appalled. “Precepts One, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven. I would be drummed out of the department.”
“Okay, okay. No need to get hot and bothered.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Why do you ask? Do you want to attend? No problem. Disappear and go.” Once again, her eyes held a wicked gleam. “Hey, you could add a spot if excitement. You—” She broke off. “Have I said something unacceptable? You don’t look amused.”
“Remember”—I knew I sounded uncommonly serious—“those who are alive must not seek to contact those who are dead. That way lies evil. If Heaven, as in your case, sends a spirit to you, that is for good.”
Kay reached out, patted my arm. “I got it. Not a two-way street. I’m sorry. Your fur is definitely ruffled. I apologize. We’ll ignore any and all séances.”
That was my definite intent. “Diane is too transparent to be discreet. We can easily find out what happens tonight. I’m sure Ronald Phillips has some mischief in mind. He said, ‘The Great Spirit’s going to put on a good show.’ He told Laverne he had a few more things to find out, then he asked if this was Diane’s afternoon with James. What did he mean?”
“James died at four o’clock on a Wednesday. Every week at that time, Diane takes fresh flowers to the cemetery.”
“Ronald told Laverne to meet Diane there.”
Kay’s gaze narrowed. “You make that sound sinister.”
“I think it is.” I glanced at the clock. It was five minutes to four.
I started to disappear, stopped.
Kay’s eyes widened. “Don’t be half here. That’s too spooky for words.”
I swirled back. “I’m off to the cemetery. I may be able to find out what Ronald is planning. While I’m gone, lock your door”—I pointed toward the hall door—“and stay put until I return.”
“You may be ghost-in-chief.” Her voice had its familiar acerbic tone. “You are not nanny-in-chief.”
I looked at her sternly. “It may seem far in the past, but less than twenty-four hours ago you escaped death because I pushed you to safety.”
“So I’m appreciative.” Kay was impatient. “Take my thanks as a given. I’m also not stupid. I’ll be careful. I’ve been thinking about Alison Gregory. It still doesn’t ring true to me that Jack talked to her about Evelyn. So, if that wasn’t the subject, what was? I’ll drop by the gallery, tell her I found some enigmatic notes about her and that guy out at the college.” She looked at me inquiringly.
I shook my head. “Your plan is good. Your timing is not. Tomorrow I’ll go with you.”
“What do I do in the meantime?”
I gave her an encouraging smile. “Cultivate patience. As Charlie Chan advised, ‘Anxious man hurries too fast—often stubs big toe.’”