it wasn’t for Walt, then it had to be for you. I’d heard
that the drug was being used again, this time for cancer patients. Thalidomide has proved effective in retarding end-stage cancers. I think that scrap of label
was dropped when you were exploring the upstairs.
You didn’t notice because you were too busy destroying Angela’s costume and putting the rubber spider in
Bruno’s bed.”
Meg’s gaze dropped along with her shoulders. “That
medicine helps. But it doesn’t cure. I’ve got blood cancer. Multiple myeloma, if you want to put a fancy
name to it.”
“I’m so sorry,” Judith said, feeling as if she had to
apologize for too many tragedies in Meg’s life. “When
you learned Bruno was premiering his movie here in
town, it must have come as a shock to discover that he
and his company were registered at the same B&B
you’d chosen.”
“Not really,” Meg said on a weary sigh. “It figured.
Our first trip in twenty-five years, and somehow Bruno
managed to foul it up for us. I guess that was the last
straw. It was right after that when I found out about the
cancer.”
The damp air seemed to seep into Judith’s skin; she
felt faintly chilled. The ticking of the schoolhouse
clock sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. For all she
knew, Meg had a gun in her purse. It seemed heavy,
judging from the way Meg held it. Judith braced her- SILVER SCREAM
335
self before asking the next question. “Did you intend to
kill Bruno?”
Meg smirked before speaking. “Of course I did. I’d
wished him dead every day of my life. But then I saw
him again, after so many years.” She looked away and
bit her lip. “I had to talk to him, to tell him what a
skunk he was, to make him give me back my book. And
of course money from him would have been nice. I
don’t know how Walt will manage without me. He
hasn’t been the same since the farming went bad.” She
looked away, into the corner of the dining room, with
its quaint washstand, porcelain ewer, and pitcher. Judith thought the sight must have reminded the other
woman of home.
“Bruno was so snotty to me,” Meg went on, “so
mean, like he was after we were married. When I first
began to show with the baby, he called me Spider
Woman. He said that with the big belly and my scrawny
long arms and legs, I reminded him of a spider.”
“How cruel,” Judith said with a shake of her head.
“Bruno sounds as if he was held captive by his ego,
even then.”
“He was nice only in the beginning,” Meg said,
“when he was trying to seduce me. I was so green. I’d
never met anyone like him.”
Judith started to reach out to comfort Meg, but
thought better of it. “Don’t blame yourself,” she said.
“You were a farm girl from a small town. He was in
search of his Iowa roots, and already had the aura of
Southern California about him.” She paused, knowing
that Meg had a need to talk about the confrontation
with Bruno. “Night before last must have been very
hard when you finally faced him again.”
336
Mary Daheim
“It was and it wasn’t,” Meg responded, her sharp
features hardening even more. “I was glad that when I
finally saw him, he was feeling miserable. How the
mighty have fallen, I thought to myself. But then he
got nasty. When Bruno went to take some pills he had
in his hand, he opened the cupboard by the sink to
fetch a glass. Then he dropped one of the pills. When
he bent down to get it, he reared up so fast that he
banged his head on the cupboard door and knocked
himself silly. He fell right into the sink with all that
water in it. For a second I thought I should haul him
out.” Her face twisted with bitterness. “Then I thought,
to hell with him. He never cared about me, why should
I care about him? So I held his head under the water
until he stopped flailing around. Then I put the spider
over the sink and left.” Meg’s pallor had a strange
glow. She’d won the final battle with Bruno.
For a long time neither woman spoke. Judith forced
herself not to look in the direction of Meg’s purse.
“Your brother, Will,” Judith said at last, recalling the
information on the Internet. “You mentioned at some
point that he lives here. He’s William Euclid Carp,
isn’t he?” Silently, she cursed herself. She’d never
thought of looking up Carp in the phone book.
Meg nodded. “He moved out this way a couple of
years ago. He couldn’t stand trying to make a living
selling farm equipment anymore. The market had
fallen out of that, too. I figured that this trip would be
my last chance to see him. Will was real pleased. But
sad. I’d asked him to scout out this place so we could
find it without running around all over a strange city.
By then, we’d been displaced, and knew from you that
Bruno was coming here for his big shindig.”
SILVER SCREAM
337
“Ah!” Judith exclaimed softly. She couldn’t believe
she’d been such a dunce. The tall, old-fashioned figure
she’d seen alongside the house wasn’t Ben Carmody;
it was William Euclid Carp. “But you were the pioneer
woman at the party,” she said. It was a statement, not a
question. American Gothic, Judith had thought the first
time she’d met the Izards. Gothic, as in grotesque. Out
of the corner of her eye, she could see the calendar
with the Grant Wood painting.
“What else could I be?” Meg replied. “That was
Great-Grandma Carp’s dress and bonnet I found a long
time ago in the attic. I brought it with me. I couldn’t afford a fancy-dress costume. I’d heard about the ball on
TV, and I figured I’d confront Bruno afterward at your
B&B.”
“Did Walt dress up?” Judith inquired. “I don’t recall
seeing him at the party.”
“He never came inside,” Meg said. “He and Will put
together some makeshift costumes. Walt was a scarecrow. Will was a cowboy. Those were easy to do, after
all the scarecrows we’ve had on the farm. Will had
herded cattle for many years. He still had his boots and
his vest and his cowboy hat. They didn’t blame me for
what I’d done, but they fussed. They were afraid I’d be
found out. Will was especially worried, so he and Walt
tried to keep tabs on what was going on here after
Bruno died.”
So the witch wasn’t a witch, but a scarecrow,
thought Judith. Another mistake she’d made, though
understandable. In the fog, the pointed hat, the turnedup shoes, the ragged garments, the strawlike hair, and
the fact that it was Halloween had made the illusion
credible.
338
Mary Daheim
“Who found the missing key to Hillside Manor?”
Judith asked.
“Walt.” Meg smiled thinly. “It was in your driveway.
He picked it up on a . . . whim, I guess. I tried to use it
this morning, but before I could make it turn right,
some fat old bag came to the door.”
Judith had another query for Meg. “Why did you hit