46
It was a subdued group that gathered at Miranda’s on Sunday night: Harry, Rick Shaw, and Cynthia Cooper, plus Pewter, Mrs. Murphy, and Tucker.
The big news from Camden was that Addie had suffered a severe concussion. The doctors, afraid that her brain would swell, insisted on keeping her in the hospital for two more days. She’d also broken her collarbone. Given what could have happened, the consensus was that she was a lucky woman. And a rich one. She had attained her majority.
The Camden police, in a burst of efficiency, arrested Mickey Townsend on suspicion of the murders of Nigel Danforth and Coty Lamont. A pack of cards found tucked in his car’s side pocket was missing the queens of clubs, spades, and diamonds. A stiletto rested under the seat of his silver BMW.
He protested his innocence. He’d be sent up to Ablemarle County as soon as the paperwork was completed between Rick’s department and Camden’s. Rick didn’t protest the Camden police holding Mickey. Secretly, he felt Mickey’d be safer in custody.
Harry told Rick she didn’t think Mickey was the killer. The gambling debts, though sizable, weren’t large enough to kill over, and Mickey wasn’t that stupid.
Rick, hands interlocking over his stomach, listened. “You don’t buy Charles Valiant as the murderer?”
All said, “No.”
Cynthia added, “Bazooka wasn’t doped. The blood tests came back negative. Fair was on the ball to pull blood.”
“Rick, what haven’t you told us?” Miranda addressed him in familiar fashion as she offered him one of her famous scones.
Delicately he bit off a piece and chewed before answering. “I know that Mickey Townsend followed Coty Lamont to Mim’s stable on the night of Coty’s death. He admits to pulling a gun on Coty and marching him out of there. He swears he didn’t kill him.”
“Why was he in Mim’s stable?” Miranda picked up her knitting needles then dropped them in the basket.
“That I don’t know. Coty was digging in a stall in the back. Said he would pay Mickey when he unearthed the treasure, well, I don’t think those were his exact words. He told me that at Camden yesterday. Lord, it seems like a week ago.” He wiped his forehead. “Guess we’d better visit the stable.”
At the mention of Mim’s stable, Mrs. Murphy sprang to her feet. “Go crazy! Run around! Bark! Steal a scone! We’ve got to let them know they need to go over there right now!”
Mrs. Murphy ran toward the wall, banked off it then jumped clean over Mrs. Hogendobber’s laden tea trolley, narrowly missing the steaming teapot.
“I say—” Miranda’s mouth fell agape.
“Go to the stable! Go to the stable now!” Tucker barked.
Pewter, lacking in the speed department, hurried to the center of the living room, rolled over, displayed her gargantuan tummy, and said, “Pay attention to us! Right now, you stupid mammals!”
Tucker ran in faster circles and Mrs. Murphy ran with her. Pewter jumped up, considered jumping over the tea trolley, realized she couldn’t and instead leapt on the armchair and patted Harry’s cheek.
“Harry, these animals are tetched,” Miranda finally sputtered.
“No, we’re not. We know what’s in Orion’s stall. We’ve known for days, but we haven’t been able to tell you. You’re on track now. GO TO THE STABLE!” Mrs. Murphy lifted her exquisite head to heaven and yowled.
Harry stood up and walked over to the cat who eluded her grasp. “Calm down, Murph.”
“Maybe she’s got rabies.” Miranda drew back.
“You say that any time an animal gets excited. She’s cutting a shine. Aren’t you, Murphy?”
“No, I am not.”
“Me neither. Listen to us,” Pewter pleaded.
“Murphy, I’m exhausted. Can I stop now?” Tucker continued circling the humans.
“Sure.”
The dog conveniently dropped by the tea trolley where some crumbs had fallen on the rug.
Rick clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, I’m going over to Mim’s to see if she’ll let us dig up that stall. Which stall was it?”
Cynthia checked her notes. “Orion’s.”
“Hallelujah!” Mrs. Murphy declared.