Part 15 (1/2)

Why, bite my tongue! But in the meantime, you can help me with the housework, or you're not going to see one thin dime this week. ” Papa, in his wisdom, left the farm to me with the provision that I see to Susannah's needs until such time as she proved herself competent and productive. If such a day ever comes along, I am morally, if not legally, bound to turn over half the estate to her. So far I haven't come close to worrying about an impending partners.h.i.+p.

Susannah made one of her defiant faces; one that Mama might have found amusing, but not me. ”Okay, if you'll just chill for a minute. First let me run upstairs to my own room and find Shnook.u.ms his binky. I think it might be under the bed someplace.”

I sighed deeply as I acquiesced. A happy Shnook.u.ms was a happy Susannah, and if retrieving her dog's binky from under her bed was what it took to get some work out of her, I could live with that. Even though the very notion of a pooch with a pacifier was beyond my comprehension.

”Okay, but make it fast. And don't touch anything in there. That's a guest room now. We have to respect our guests' privacy.”

Susannah headed upstairs while I changed the head on the dust mop. I had just gotten the new cover on when I heard Susannah scream. Even if the house had been full of people, I would have recognized that scream as hers. Hers is an exceptionally high-pitched scream, and while it won't break any gla.s.ses, it will curdle milk and put the hens off laying.

Only twice before, not counting Shnook.u.m's bath in the batter, had I heard Susannah scream like that. Once was when she was about eight and stumbled across a still-born calf in the north pasture. The second time was when Reuben Metzer, Hernia's onetime pharmacist and prominent pedophile, exposed himself to her. That happened during a lightning storm on Susannah's tenth birthday. Even though there was an entire room full of little girls already in full scream by then, I immediately picked out Susannah's.

I flung the mop down and bolted up those impossibly steep stairs two at a time. That's when I found Susannah standing in the doorway, staring at the corpse that was clutching Mama's best dresden plate quilt.

Like I said before, it was immediately obvious to me that this was a corpse, a victim of murder, not just someone whose time had happened to come during a snooze on Susannah's bed. After I sent Susannah downstairs to look for the borax, I took the phone out into the hallway and called the police. It wasn't until Melvin Stoltzfus picked up the phone that I remembered Chief Myers was out of town.

”I'm sorry, I must have a wrong number,” I said. I'm normally not a fast thinker, but I would rather bury a corpse out in the north forty by myself than involve Melvin Stoltzfus. ”Magdalena, is that you? Tell Susannah my mother just called and she wants me to stop by and check out a buzz in her was.h.i.+ng machine, so I won't be picking her up until six. Oh, and tell her I'll be wearing my green suit and a green and yellow checkered tie, so she'll know what to wear. Also, do you happen to know if she likes licorice, and if so, does she prefer the bites, the sticks, or the ropes?”

That did it. Melvin Stoltzfus deserved to have a corpse thrown in his lap while his superior was away. Literally, if at all possible. ”Put your mother's was.h.i.+ng machine and Susannah's licorice on hold, Melvin. I need you to come out to the inn right away. There's been a murder.”

”Quit jumping to conclusions,” said Melvin sanctimoniously. ”It might just have been an accident. Did you call Alvin Hostetler yet?”

”I'm sending you a compa.s.s for Christmas!” I screamed.

”A what?”

”Never mind! I'm not talking about Miss Brown, Melvin. This murder just happened. There's a corpse lying in Susannah's bed.”

”Susannah's been murdered?”

”No, not Susannah. One of the guests!”

”Was he her lover?” Melvin sounded as if he were about to burst into tears.

”It's not a he, Melvin. It's a woman.”

”Oh my G.o.d, that's even worse.”

”Get a grip on it, Melvin. They weren't lovers, that's for sure. We needed Susannah's room for one of the guests, so she's been staying with me. How soon are you coming out?”

”I'll be right there. In the meantime don't touch the gun or anything else.”

”There is no gun, Melvin.”

”What? No gun? But you said it was a murder.”

”It is, Melvin. Come out and see for yourself.”

”An axe then? Or a club? A shovel maybe?”

”Just a quilt, Melvin. Like I said, come out and see for yourself.”

”A quilt? I see, strangulation then. The victim was undoubtedly smothered.”

”Somehow I don't think so. Come out and see for yourself.”

”Then maybe it's not a murder after all. Are you even sure the so-called victim is dead?”

”Melvin, for Pete's sake, just come on out. And call an ambulance.”

”Then she isn't dead?”

”Melvin Stoltzfus!”

Melvin showed up in eight minutes flat, just in front of the ambulance staffed by the volunteer rescue squad. Immediately after calling Melvin, I'd called old Doc Shafer. He showed up on the tail of the ambulance, which goes to show you that not all octogenarians putter along at nine miles an hour. If Melvin hadn't been at the head of the procession, he'd have given old Doc a ticket for sure.

Hernia does have a full-time people doctor, but most folks would rather eat a spoonful of the plague than set eyes on Harold P. Smith Ill's stethoscope. Young Harold is the epitome of arrogance, and I've heard that most dictionaries revived their definition of that word the year following his birth. Even Susannah says she would rather date a poor lawyer than go out with Harold, so you see what I mean. Anyway, I'd asked old Doc to come, not for what he might do for the stiff, but for help in controlling Melvin Stoltzfus. It was one of Doc's patients who kicked Melvin in the head, after all, and it was Doc who undoubtedly patched both of them up. At any rate, everyone in and around Hernia knows and respects old Doc. Doc was my insurance card for getting through the ordeal still sane.

I ushered everyone in and led the way up the stairs to the victim's bedroom. By this time Susannah had returned from the laundry room, without the borax, and was standing by the bed moaning. From within the nether reaches of her blouse Shnook.u.ms was following suit with tinny little yowls of his own. I decided that everyone needed a contingent of mourners, even unintentional ones, and to just let them be.

To his professional credit, Melvin appeared to notice the corpse before he noticed Susannah.

”Is this exactly the way you found her?” he asked.

”Naw, she must have gotten up and combed her hair.”

”Very funny. Now you and Susannah stand back so I can examine her. This might be rather gruesome.”

”No more gruesome than what we can see now,” volunteered Doc. ”She's been poisoned.”

”How the h.e.l.l do you know that?” snapped Melvin. Quite frankly, I was surprised to hear him swear.

Doc sighed. ”Professional instincts, man. Just look at her. It's obvious she died in a great deal of pain, and too quick to call out for help, or to have anyone hear her. Although it's possible, I'd say it's not likely she died of a coronary, given her age.”

”How old was she, anyway?” asked Melvin, turning to me.

”Linda is twenty-three.”

”Poison then, for sure,” said Doc.

”How can you be so sure?” asked Melvin, a little less belligerently.

”Can't be absolutely positive,” said Doc, ”not until there's been an autopsy. But my best guess is she was poisoned, and at least twelve hours ago. No more than fourteen.”

”Twelve hours?” Melvin and I asked at once.

”By the looks of it. Maybe an hour or two more, like I said. Again, the autopsy will take care of that. You, sending her right down to the county coroner?”