Chapter 5

I’m sure I gasped before I spoke. “You were over there last night? What on earth for?”

“Hiding out, I guess. I saw Aunt Abigail’s car on the street, and she got out and started looking around. I didn’t want to talk to her because I was really upset over her threats.”

“Her threats?”

“Yes. The idea that she might demand that Beau and I get back together.”

I considered that. I couldn’t see why Bunny considered that a threat. After all, she could always say no. Even admitting that Bunny had trouble saying either yes or no . . . surely she wouldn’t let a third party influence her marital life. That would be freaky. I tried to shove the idea aside.

“In any case you’ll have to talk to Hogan,” I said. “They’ll be looking for anybody who was around the Clown Building last night. As a witness.”

I considered that remark for a full minute, then I spoke again. “And maybe you need to talk to Joe before you see Hogan.”

Yes, I was sure Joe would want to talk to Bunny before she spoke to Hogan. After all, Joe was Bunny’s lawyer, at least for her divorce. And it was beginning to sound as if she would need a lawyer. But Joe had left the building, gone someplace. I didn’t know where he was, though it probably wasn’t very far away. I reached for my cell phone.

Bunny ignored my remark about Joe. “So there was a murder there? At the Clown Building?”

Aunt Nettie and I looked at each other. “We don’t know yet if it was a murder or not,” Aunt Nettie said. “Just that a body was found there this morning.”

Bunny shook her head. But she didn’t ask any more questions. It didn’t seem to occur to Bunny that the victim could be anybody she knew.

I called Joe’s cell phone. Naturally, since I really needed him, his phone was off. I left a message on his voice mail and turned back to Bunny. Yes, I decided, she needed to have Joe present when she talked to Hogan. Even if she didn’t know a single thing about Abigail Birdsong’s death, Bunny was the type of person who would blurt out something that would send her up the river.

As if to confirm my opinion, Bunny came a few steps farther into the office and tripped over a chair. She caught herself on its back, so she didn’t land on the floor, but she dropped her purse. All the contents, including a cell phone, three ballpoint pens, a coin purse, and a luxurious notebook—the kind with a gold foil cover—fell out. The coin purse had apparently been left unzipped; change showered over the shop floor.

I sighed and got down on my knees to help her pick it up. Bunny apologized the whole time we were scrambling for the coins, acting as if I were going to punish her for the accident.

As soon as the change had ceased to be a threat to anyone walking around in our shop, I went to the alley door. The alley was crowded with cops and detectives and their vehicles, including the scientific van. There was a regular throng back there.

I called to a patrolman walking by. It was Jerry Cherry—midthirties and as burly as the red-haired construction worker who had raised the original alarm. I knew Jerry, of course. If you live in a town of twenty-five hundred, you know all five of the local cops, and they know you.

I told Jerry that Bunny had shown up at TenHuis Chocolade, and that she said she’d been in the Clown Building the night before. She was sitting with Aunt Nettie and me.

“She doesn’t seem to know anything about the—well, the events next door,” I said.

“Don’t you tell her.” Jerry tried to sound stern, but he’s too sweet a guy to achieve it.

“And we need Joe,” I said. “If you see him, please send him over here.”

Jerry assured me that he would.

I went back inside, hoping that my twisted tongue wouldn’t let anything slip as I talked to Bunny. I kept looking at my watch as we talked, hoping Joe would show up. But Joe was still missing when Hogan came in, again entering through the alley door.

He looked harassed. “Where is Bunny?”

“In the shop.”

“Send her back to the break room. Please.”

Bunny obeyed his summons, looking bug-eyed and fearful. She was beginning to see that this interview was important. Hogan served himself a cup of coffee, but Bunny refused one. She just sat down, twisting her hands together.

“Hogan,” I said. “Joe is Bunny’s lawyer. Maybe she ought to talk to him before she talks to you.”

Hogan blinked twice. “That would be fine, if she wants to do that.”

Bunny looked amazed. “Why should I need to talk to Joe?”

“As a general rule,” I said. “He likes to know what his clients are going to tell the police before they tell it.”

“I don’t have anything to tell,” Bunny said. “Not really. I’d appreciate either you or Mrs. Jones sitting with me while we talk. But we don’t need to wait for Joe.”

Hogan sighed. “This is just a preliminary session. That would be all right. If you ladies keep quiet.”

“Of course,” Aunt Nettie said. “We’re not lawyers.”

“I’m sure I don’t know anything,” Bunny said.

“Okay,” Hogan said. “When did you go over there?”

“Around seven o’clock.”

“Why did you go?”

“I wanted to avoid Abigail Birdsong, my husband’s aunt. She’d driven up and parked in front of the TenHuis Building. I didn’t want to talk to her.”

“Where were you when you saw her?”

“In the shop. I ducked down behind the counter so she couldn’t see me. The lights were off, but she went right up to the window and, you know, held her hands up to look in the window.” Bunny demonstrated, forming a tunnel with her hands. “There were lights in the back. I was afraid she’d see me.”

Bunny gave a little titter. “I crawled around the corner and through the door to get to the back room. Then I got up and went through to the Clown Building. I knew she couldn’t see me in there.”

“What part of that building were you in?”

“You mean the Clown Building?”

Hogan nodded.

“I don’t know how to describe it. Near the door. The door from this side into the Clown Building. I guess you’d call it the center.”

That would not be near the spot where Abigail’s body had been laid out, I realized.

Hogan spoke again. “What did you use for lights?”

“I had a flashlight. But I didn’t use it much because I wasn’t moving around. There’s a chair over there, an old office chair. And a desk. I guess the foreman sits there to write some reports. I sat there.” Bunny leaned forward. “But I didn’t see anything. Not a body. Nothing.”

Hogan didn’t reply, and she finally asked the question I’d been wondering about.

“Who was found over there? I mean, whose body?”

I guess Hogan had been waiting for that question, too. There was a long pause before he answered. “It was your aunt.”

“My aunt?”

“Yes. Abigail Birdsong. She was found near the back door. Her head was smashed in.”

Bunny’s jaw dropped.

I imagine that mine did, too. As soon as I got it under control, I spoke. “Then it was murder!”

Hogan gave me a warning look.

“Sorry.” I murmured the words. “I forgot to shut up.”

Bunny hadn’t reacted to our exchange. “Someone killed her?”

Hogan nodded.

“Do you know who did it?”

Hogan shook his head.

I was surprised that Bunny didn’t burst into tears or otherwise react to the news of Ms. Birdsong’s death. She seemed frozen.

“But who would harm Abigail?” Bunny asked.

“You’re more likely to know that than I am, Bunny.”

“Why?”

“You’ve lived next door to her for several years.” Hogan leaned forward. “I knew Ms. Birdsong only slightly, but I can’t imagine her being a distant neighbor.”

“Oh no. She wasn’t distant.”

“Interfering?”

Bunny grimaced. “I’m afraid she was a bit nosy. And full of advice—for me and for Beau.”

“For other people, too?

“Mr. Jones—Chief Jones—I’m sure you heard about the big blowup with Anya yesterday afternoon.”

“Was that typical?”

“Oh no. It was most unusual. Most people simply let Aunt Abby have her own way. Or at least they didn’t argue with her.”

“Did you like her, Bunny?”

“We owed her a lot.”

“But did you like her?”

Bunny gave a deep sigh. “I guess not. She was so domineering that it was hard to like her.”

“Still, hiding in a dark construction site was a pretty drastic way to avoid her.”

“I guess so.” Bunny’s voice sounded quavery.

Hogan opened his mouth, but before he could form it into words, the alley door flew open. We all whirled as Joe came in.

Bunny was the only one of us who spoke. “Oh, Joe! I’m glad to see you. Maybe I should have waited until you came.”

Joe’s poverty law agency doesn’t do criminal law, though he occasionally does a case on his own. He sat down at the table with Hogan and Bunny.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for you to start without me.”

“I don’t think I’ve told the chief anything important,” Bunny said defensively.

Joe smiled. “I’m sure it’s okay, but I’d still like to talk to you before you say anything more.”

“Sure,” Hogan said. “I need a break anyway.” He got up and headed to our restroom. Joe hoisted Bunny to her feet and walked her up to the retail shop, holding her arm firmly.

“I really didn’t see anything, Joe,” Bunny said.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Joe’s voice was soothing.

Aunt Nettie and I sat quietly. I could hear Joe’s voice rumble and Bunny’s chirp as they talked, but I couldn’t understand what they said. Once I heard Bunny speak more loudly—“Oh no!”—and I guessed that Joe had asked her if she was involved in Abigail’s death in any way.

I’d know the answer when they came back. If Joe told Bunny not to talk anymore, it would indicate she did know something. If he let her continue talking, she would have denied knowing anything. This is standard procedure in an investigation. I knew that, and Hogan knew more about it than I did, of course.

Anyway, after about five minutes Hogan came back, after about ten Joe and Bunny came back, and nobody asked either Aunt Nettie or me to leave. So I stayed quiet, sitting very still, and so did she.

Hogan asked a few more questions. Bunny said the Clown Building had been empty of people. She’d sat there about ten minutes. No one had come in.

By then, of course, one obvious question was filling my mind. I almost put my hand over my mouth to keep from asking it, but I kept quiet. I’d tell Joe, later. Bunny was his client. He needed to ask the question, not me.

Then Aunt Nettie, who had been almost completely quiet through this entire process, cleared her throat. We all looked at her, and she asked the question I’d been thinking about.

“Excuse me, Bunny, but there’s one thing I’d like to know.”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones?”

“How did you get into the Clown Building? I mean, it was supposed to be completely locked up.”