Thirteen Diamonds

CHAPTER 4

Having suspicions that Gerald had been murdered was one thing. Being able to confirm them with some tangible evidence was another. And I didn't know where to start looking. Silver Acres was like a small village, where everybody took an interest in everybody else's business. If I nosed around there would be repercussions.

Some people picture retirement communities as accumulations of hearing aids, false teeth, inch-thick glasses, wigs, canes, walkers, wheelchairs and electric carts. All this is true, but many of the residents were as alert and mentally active as any teenager, and they had accumulated a heck of a lot more knowledge. And they lived a long time because of the good care they received.

Resident committees gave advice on running Silver Acres. Some residents did volunteer work for local organizations; a few still had paying jobs. I tutored math pupils; there were plenty who needed tutoring.

Which leads me to my alternate theory: If women don't take over the world it will be because dummies do-the ones who can't read or do math. They won't know how the modern technological world works and it will collapse on them. Again, I'm glad I won't be here to see it.

But to get back to my point, I had to be careful what I did, because residents of Silver Acres would be watching.

I broached the subject of murder to Tess on Monday, a typical hot summer morning, as we walked to our water aerobics class at the Silver Acres indoor pool. Tess was less than enthusiastic about me conducting an investigation. “You mean you want to go nosing around like Agatha Christie's Miss Marple? Or the detective with the funny name in those alphabet books? A is for…awful acts, B is for bad people. Those books are too gory for me.”

“I'll be discreet,” I said. “But I need you to help me. You have a certain savoir-faire that I lack, which helps in social situations, at least when you don't forget to wear your hearing aid. And you're so much better at small talk than I am.”

“So you want to make me your sidekick, eh? Well, I'm no Dr. Watson. And you're no Sherlock Holmes.”

“Don't blow this out of proportion, Tess. I just want to satisfy my conscience. For example, Dora is in our aerobics class and she tried to help Gerald. I'd like to talk to her. She might have some insight.”

Water aerobics is good for people who suffer from arthritis and other joint problems-or just plain old age. Even wheelchair-bound residents could be lowered into the pool, which was only four feet deep, by mechanical means. The buoyancy of the water made it easy to stand; Tess, who had chronic sore feet, was pain-free in the water. The resistance the water provided helped to strengthen arm and leg muscles as we went through our exercise routines. Even 90-year-olds could improve their muscle tone.

After the workout Tess and I approached Dora in the locker room next to the pool, where she was drying off. Her small body didn't look bad in a bathing suit. She seemed to have been spared some of the ravages of old age, such as varicose veins.

I was debating what to say when Tess opened the conversation. “Dora, it's wonderful what you did to help Gerald. I feel a lot better living here, knowing that people like you are available in an emergency.”

Dora shook her head. “I'm devastated that we couldn't save him. He was such a nice man. But his heart was too weak to withstand the anaphylaxis.”

“Anaphylaxis?” I asked.

“A severe allergic reaction. It can be caused by medication or food, but since Gerald wasn't on any new medications that's been ruled out. They say shellfish caused it.”

“So the closing of Gerald's throat was definitely an allergic reaction.”

“That's what the autopsy report says. I talked to Dr. Wacker at the clinic about it on Friday. I was trying to deal with my guilt, I guess.”

Carol had mentioned guilt also. There was a lot of it going around. I said, “It wasn't your fault he had an allergy. But tell me-how soon does this reaction start after eating the forbidden food?”

“It can start in as little as five to fifteen minutes.”

The timing was right. “There's nothing you could have done.”

“You win some and lose some. The best medicine, of course, is preventive. If only the lunch committee had known about Gerald's allergy to shellfish.”

“I wanted to ask you about that,” I said. “Did anybody know about it?”

“Carol asked me the same question. Not that I'm aware of. Although she told me it was on his medical record.”

“So there's a possibility that even if he hadn't talked about it, somebody may have seen his record.”

“Medical information is supposed to be confidential…”

“Of course. What kind of a relationship did you have with Gerald?”

“We were…friends…good friends. But we were not romantically involved.”

“Dora, did Gerald have any special girlfriends? I know he was chummy with a number of different women.”

“It sounds like you're conducting a murder investigation.” Dora stood up from the bench where she had been sitting. “You don't suppose that Gerald's death wasn't accidental, do you?”

“I don't know. It's just suspicious.” I explained about the 13 diamonds.

Dora reflected. “He was quite close to two women. “One was Harriet Monroe. The other was Ida Wilson.”

“They were both sitting at his table,” Tess said. “Keeping an eye on each other. I wonder if there was some jealousy there.”

“I don't see much point in this romantic nonsense at our age,” I said. “Mooning over men like schoolgirls. It isn't as if there were a payoff. All they do is talk, anyway.”

“As a nurse, I can tell you that's not true,” Dora said. “It's not all talk.”

“You mean…they indulge?” Tess asked.

“You mean they have sex?” I asked.

“Yes,” Dora, said, smiling at our surprise. “You would be amazed at what goes on here at Silver Acres. They may not be as active as they were when they were younger, but that doesn't mean everybody here is celibate.”

“Like we are,” Tess said. “So there's Viagra in the medicine cabinets.”

“Peyton Place,” I said. “I'm shocked.” They say older people sometimes forget about sex. I hadn't forgotten about sex; I just didn't want to have sex with the few doddering single men at Silver Acres. But apparently not everyone agreed with me.

“One of my friends here even tells off-color jokes,” Dora said. “Here's one she told me. A doctor got mad at his wife for some reason so he chewed her out. At the end of his lecture he added for good measure, 'And you're lousy in bed, too.' The next morning he went to his office. He felt badly about the things he had said so he called his wife around noon and asked about her day. She said she was in bed. 'At this hour?' he fumed. 'What in the world are you doing in bed?' She said, 'I'm getting a second opinion.'“

After we chuckled, Dora said, “Both Harriet and Ida are on the lunch committee. Since you're talking about suspicions, it would make sense that the murderer would have had the opportunity to doctor the food.”

“Who else is on the lunch committee?” I asked. I probably should have known, but I tend to forget things.

“At the risk of incriminating myself, I am.”

“That makes you a suspect,” Tess said, smiling. “Do you want to confess now?”

Dora laughed. “Well, since we're naming suspects, there is a fourth member of the lunch committee-Ellen Tooner.”

“Do you remember where Ellen was sitting?” I asked.

“Why yes,” Dora said. “If I recall, correctly, she was the fourth person at Gerald's table.”

“Just one more question,” I said, trying to sound offhand, like Columbo. “Which one of you prepared the fatal dish?”

“We all worked on it,” Dora said. “At Harriet's apartment. We usually meet at one of our apartments before the bridge club and prepare the lunch together. The recipe we were working from didn't call for shellfish. It called for tuna, which is not a shellfish. In fact, I can remember seeing Harriet put the tuna into it. And I was very surprised when I heard about the shellfish being found in it.”

The three of us stood looking at each other for seconds, not speaking. Finally, Dora said, “I-I didn't make the connection before. I guess that's significant, isn't it?”

“Monstrously,” Tess said. “Whoever put in the shellfish is the murderer.”

“If, indeed, there was a murder,” I said.

Now the others both looked at me. Tess said, “But you're the one propounding the murder theory.”

“Just playing devil's advocate. Remember that it's only a theory so far.”

After leaving Dora, Tess and I walked back to our almost-adjoining apartments, which were in the same one-story brick building. The cozy apartments all had access to the outside. A narrow lawn fronted the building, as did a sidewalk. A section of woods, mostly evergreen trees, bordered the sidewalk, complete with squirrels and birds. As we approached, a regal red cardinal splashed in the birdbath I had set up.

Tess invited me into her place for a drink. I was always impressed by how homey it was, with knickknacks and personalized furniture arranged to fill up much of the minimal space in the one-bedroom apartment. My apartment, on the other hand, I had furnished for practicality, and it had more open space.

We sat near the south-facing windows with the drapes drawn to keep the hot sun at bay, sipping iced tea. Fortunately, the air conditioning worked well.

Tess said, “Now tell me why, after we had what I would call a breakthrough, finding out that the shellfish was apparently put in the casserole secretly, that you reversed yourself by saying that there might not have been a murder after all.”

“I didn't want Dora to get her guard up,” I said. “Isn't that what real detectives do-disarm their suspects? But it does sound suspicious, doesn't it?”

“Yes, but Dora isn't really a suspect, is she? She did try to save Gerald. And she told us she didn't know about Gerald's problem or the shellfish.”

“That's true. But she is a member of the lunch committee. As far as I'm concerned, they're all guilty until proven innocent. And you have to overcome your gullibility, Tess. Don't believe everything you hear.”

“Then we need to talk to the other members of the lunch committee.”

“Now you're getting the hang of it. I seem to remember that you're on another committee with Harriet-the Housekeeping Committee, isn't it?”

“Your memory isn't as bad as you let on.”

“Don't be too sure. They say that that giant bird, the emu has such a small brain that it can't remember from one day to the next what the world is like. Each morning is a surprise to it. Lately, each morning has been a surprise to me, too.”

Tess didn't comment, so I said, “Since you know Harriet better than I do, invite her to have dinner with us some night.”

“And what are you going to do-if you can remember.”

“Well, I'm in the croquet tournament. And Ellen is on the team we play next. I need to schedule a match with her, anyway, so I'll work on that. Although scheduling these matches, even with only four people involved is so difficult, we might as well live at the far corners of the earth, instead of just around the corner from each other. You wouldn't think retired people would be so busy.”

“And when are we going to talk to Ida?”

“She walks her dog each morning, just as I do. Sometimes I run into her.”

It was traditional to have a memorial service in the Silver Acres auditorium for a resident who had died. Gerald's was Monday afternoon. Tess and I went, as did all the other members of the bridge club, as nearly as I could tell. Quite a few people were there. Several got up and said kind words about the deceased, which I'm sure made Gerald's spirit happy. Harriet and Ida were not among them. Those two sat at some distance from each other, in black dresses, and silently observed the proceedings. I didn't learn anything of value at the service.