“His companions won’t like that,” Joe said.
“They’re used to first-class treatment.”
“So what are they doing here?” Cairo slapped his
thigh and laughed even louder than usual.
“It’s a fluke,” Judith said, and wished she’d kept her
mouth shut.
“A fluke?” Cairo looked mildly interested.
“A superstition,” Judith replied as Herself and Dilys
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entered the parlor. “Bruno Zepf considered B&Bs
lucky for his movies.”
Cairo scowled. “Not this time.”
“Goodness!” Vivian exclaimed, cradling her chimney glass, which was now almost full of what looked
like bourbon. “To think that all these Hollywood
people were here and I never noticed! That’s what I get
for being such a night owl! I miss the comings and goings during the day.”
Judith felt obliged to offer Joe’s ex a thin smile.
Cairo was moving restlessly around the room, his
gaze darting between Herself’s glass and Herself’s décolletage. “I’d better chat up these folks, just to remind
them they shouldn’t wander off.” His hooded eyes
turned to Joe. “You want to tell ’em to rise and shine?”
“No,” Joe responded. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Hey!” Cairo raised his voice and scowled at Joe.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“You are,” Joe retorted. “You tell them to rise and
shine.”
Cairo started to speak, stopped, and turned his scowl
on Dilys. “You’re it.”
Dilys’s gray eyes widened. “Me?” She hesitated, as
if waiting for verification. “Okay.” Obediently, she
trotted out of the parlor.
“Now,” Vivian said, slithering onto the window seat,
“tell me about all these gorgeous hunks who are sleeping just over my head.”
When Joe didn’t answer, Judith stepped in. “There
are only two actors, Dirk Farrar and Ben Carmody. The
actresses are Angela La Belle and Ellie Linn.”
In a dismissive gesture, Herself waved the hand that
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wasn’t holding her drink. “Actresses! They’re all
made-up hussies. Surely there must be more . . . men.”
Judith glanced at Joe, whose expression was blank.
He and his ex remained on friendly terms, and not only
because they had a daughter. It seemed to Judith that
Herself was some kind of source of amusement to Joe.
Or maybe she was a reminder, the living reinforcement
of Joe and Judith’s good luck in finally finding each
other. Judith hoped it was the latter that made him so
indulgent of—or was it indifferent to?—Vivian’s notso-subtle charms.
In response to the question, Judith nodded. “There
are other men, but they’re not actors. They’re directors
and writers and—”
Herself waved again. “Aren’t those types homely?”
Before Judith could try to reply, Cairo intervened.
“Let’s cut out the chitchat, ladies. I want to hear some
specifics about this so-called accident. Tell me,” he
said, standing in front of the fireplace with his hands
folded behind his back, “who discovered Zepf’s body?”
“I did,” Judith admitted, sounding miserable.
“You did, eh?” Cairo glanced at Joe. “Not the great
detective over here?”
Judith didn’t comment.
“All right,” Cairo went on, “when did you find the
stiff?”
Judith glanced at Joe. “Around one-fifteen, maybe
later?”
Joe gave a faint nod.
“When and where,” Cairo queried, “did you last see
this Zepf character alive?”
Judith tried to focus on the question, though her
brain was fogging over. “He was on one of the living- SILVER SCREAM
131
room sofas by the fireplace. That must have been about
a quarter to one, when Joe and I began to clean up
everything and take some of the perishable items down
to the freezer in the basement.”
Cairo flung out his hands. “So where’s the basement?”
Joe sneered. “Under the house.”
Herself burst out laughing; her bust almost burst the
seams of her emerald-green robe. “Oh, Joe-Joe! You’re
such a scream!”
Stone Cold Sam Cairo did not look amused. “You
know what I mean,” he snarled. “How do you get to the
damned basement?”
Judith spoke before Joe could further enrage Cairo.
“Through the kitchen, the hallway, and down the stairs
on the left.”
Cairo looked thoughtful. “So it’s quite a distance
from where Zepf was in the living room. Who was
with him?”
The fog enclosed Judith’s brain. “I don’t remember.” She glanced at Joe for assistance, but none was
forthcoming. “He may have been alone.” She paused,
straining in an effort to concentrate. “The cat—I think
Sweetums was sitting on Mr. Zepf’s lap.”
Cairo scowled, but Herself laughed again, though
this time the sound was soft and purring. “That lovely
cat! Oh, Sam, you’ve never seen such a beautiful
pussy. Not lately, anyway.”
Cairo ignored Herself. His attitude seemed to indicate
that perhaps he was getting tired, too. Maybe frustrated
as well, Judith thought in her exhausted haze. Before the
detective could pose another question, Dilys returned to
the parlor.
“They won’t come down,” she announced. “They
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Mary Daheim
won’t even open their doors. The woman in Room One
says we have no probable cause or any evidence of a
crime having been committed.” Dilys didn’t bother to
stifle a wide yawn.
“Not cooperating?” Cairo slammed his fist against
the fireplace, hurt himself, and swore under his breath.
“Poor baby,” Vivian murmured. “Let Mommy kiss
your boo-boo.” She advanced on the detective, allowing a great deal of bare leg to become exposed.
“Not now,” Cairo growled. “I’ll take a rain check,”
he added.
Joe looked at Judith. “Who’s in Room One?”
“Winifred Best,” Judith said, surprised that she
could remember where Room One was located, let
alone who occupied it.
“Ms. Best is right,” Joe said to Cairo. “Why don’t
you go away?”
Rubbing his sore knuckles, Cairo bristled. “I want
to hear the details about how this Zepf guy died.”
“You have heard them,” Joe asserted. “He came into
the kitchen, maybe to get some aspirin, probably had a
heart attack, and fell face first into the sink. Look, the
guy had just had the biggest comedown of his career.
His future was on the line. You never knew of someone
to suffer a coronary after a life-altering shock?”
His face darkening, Cairo continued rubbing his
knuckles, but made no comment.
“I’m curious about that cupboard door,” Dilys put
in. “How often does it open by itself?”
“Occasionally,” Judith admitted.
“Interesting,” Dilys remarked, then turned to Cairo.
“Mr. Flynn has a point. We can’t do much until we get
the ME’s verdict.”
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133
“Awwr . . .” Cairo grimaced, but nodded abruptly.
“Okay, we’ll hang it up for now.” He loomed over Judith. “I gotta trust you, Flynn. We’re shorthanded