"I knew it!" Seymour cried, slapping his knee. "Pierce Armstrong was a fall guy. He was railroaded. Hedda was the real vixen. She arranged everything."

Brainert shook his head. "This is quite disturbing. And, frankly, it's very difficult for me to believe that the Hedda Geist-Middleton I've gotten to know could be capable of this. As a young woman she was a gifted actress playing femme fatales to perfection, but I can't believe she actually was one. Look at the quiet, respectable life she's lived for decades. She's been an esteemed member of the Newport community for years. She's a beloved mother and grandmother. She's given tens of thousands to charity-"

Seymour snorted. "Not to mention your own pet project: restoring your movie theater."

Brainert put a hand on his hip. "What are you implying?"

"That you have an agenda."

"I'm an academic. I need to see evidence. My own observations tell me that Hedda's a class act. This alleged crime she committed was sixty years ago. Pierce Armstrong was tried and convicted of manslaughter for that crime. How in the world could anyone prove that conviction was false after all these years?"

"Dr. Lilly was an academic, too, Brainert," I pointed out. "I doubt she would have published a book without new evidence. She invited members of the press to our store today. I think she must have had solid facts to present. We just need to read them." I held up the book. "Consider this exhibit A."

"Exhibit A, huh?" said Brainert, paging through the final chapters. "All I see here related to the letter 'A' are Allegations" Brainert was silent for a minute, continuing to skim. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. "I don't even see a motive for Hedda to have supposedly perpetrated this heinous crime."

Seymour grunted with skepticism. "It sounds to me like you're more than willing to overlook your business partner's past. Obviously Dr. Lilly saw things differently."

Brainert smirked. "Obviously."

"What are you saying, Brainert?" I asked. "Do you believe Dr. Lilly based an entire book on unsubstantiated gossip?"

Brainert sighed. "If there's any real evidence in here, I'll be willing to consider it. Until then, I'm putting this theory about Hedda on the level of Frannie McGuire's story that she sold Elvis Presley take-out quahogs at the Seafood Shack in 1992."

"What's so hard to believe?" Seymour said with a wrinkled brow. "Everybody knows Elvis staged his own death."

"Now you're being ridiculous," Brainert sniffed.

"And you're being naive," Seymour charged, "to trust a spiderwoman like Hedda Geist-"

"Wait one minute," said Brainert, loudly snapping shut Lilly's book. "It's one thing to speculate about a woman's past. It's quite another to insult her with a name like that. I'll not have you slander a major contributor to the history of motion picture arts, not to mention an upstanding member of our community-"

"Our community?!" Seymour cried. "The old bag lives in Newport. Since when can we afford to live in Newport?"

"Hold the phone," I said.

"What?" they asked together.

"Hedda Geist may live in Newport now, but she didn't come from money. Not even close." While the two men were bickering, I'd continued to skim Dr. Lilly's book. I pointed to one of the early chapters. "It says here that Hedda was the fourth daughter in a family of seven. Her father was arrested for robbery when she was nine and died in a prison brawl. Hedda's mother cleaned houses to make ends meet."

"Then how'd she get into the movie business?" Seymour asked.

I continued skimming the text. "Seems Hedda's two older sisters were known to make, uh…'dates' with men for money. They encouraged Hedda to do the same."

"That's a libelous accusation!" Brainert cried.

"Dr. Lilly claims it was one of Hedda's 'boyfriends' who got her a break at sixteen, a bit part in a Gotham Features film that was shooting exteriors near Hedda's neighborhood. Apparently, Hedda worked hard after that first break. She took speech lessons, dance lessons, and kept on moving up the Gotham ladder of players until she finally landed a leading lady role at twenty. You know the rest."

Brainert frowned. 'The rest is an unsubstantiated charge of cold-blooded murder. And I still don't believe it."

I exhaled, trying to puzzle out a next step. How could I or anyone else prove-or disprove-Dr. Lilly's theory of Irving Vreen's death? Irene Lilly herself was dead, so we couldn't ask her to back up her accusations. And the crime happened so far in the past, pretty much everyone connected to the crime was dead. Everyone except Hedda and-

"We could talk to Pierce Armstrong!" I exclaimed.

"And ask him what?" Brainert demanded.

"We can ask him if Dr. Lilly's charges are true!" Seymour replied. "That's a great idea, Pen!"

I vigorously nodded. "If Pierce Armstrong was railroaded, then he has a powerful motive for wanting to see the truth about the past come out and Hedda Geist brought to justice."

"I suppose so… " Brainert reluctantly admitted.

"It would also prove that Hedda Geist had a reason to want Dr. Lilly out of the way," Seymour said.

Brainert frowned. "Surely you're not suggesting that frail old woman murdered Dr. Lilly?"

"Okay, maybe she didn't do it herself," said Seymour with a shrug, "but she is rich enough to buy an accomplice."

"Or keep it inside the family by using someone like her granddaughter, Harmony," I noted.

Seymour shook his head. "So sad to think that a hottie like that could actually be a hellion. But I guess rotten apples don't fall far from the tree."

Brainert tightly folded his arms. "I don't like this."

"Then there's something else you won't like," I said and informed Brainert about the break-in at Dr. Lilly's rented bungalow. "Her laptop, tape recorder, and a number of audio cassettes appeared to have been stolen. I'm betting Dr. Lilly had damaging evidence in her possession-all the more reason we should speak with Pierce Armstrong as soon as possible."

Brainert nodded. "I suppose Mr. Armstrong could shed some light on all this. He'll be at the festival sometime this weekend. He's a surprise guest, you know. It was my colleague who arranged his appearance."

"Which colleague?" I asked.

"The dean," said Brainert. "Dr. Wendell Pepper."

Seymour blinked. "Dr. Pepper? The man named after the soft drink that uses prunes for flavoring?"

Brainert exhaled in disgust at Seymour 's relentless needling.

"We should strike while the iron is hot," I quickly suggested. "Has Armstrong even arrived in Quindicott yet?"

Brainert nodded. "Oh, yes," By now he should be here.

"Great!" I said. "Where's he staying?"

"With Dr. Pepper," said Brainert. "He has plenty of room. He owns a very large house on Larchmont Avenue and-"

"He's the most original soft drink ever in the whole wild world-"

"Stop it, Seymour!"

Seymour laughed. "It's just too easy to get a rise out of you, Parker. So, Pepper lives on Larchmont, eh!" Seymour clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Man I'd love to see the inside of one of those giant old mansions. Ring Dean Soda Pop up and get us an invite."

Brainert wrinkled his nose at Seymour 's disheveled postal uniform, now stained with grass and dirt. "Shouldn't you go home and change your clothes?"

"That's a great idea. I want to look my best when I meet Pierce Armstrong-Big Mike O'Bannon-in the flesh," Seymour said, grinning. "Lucky for me, I don't have to go home. I have civvies packed in the trunk of my car."

"But don't you still have mail to deliver?" Brainert pressed.

"I already called in a favor, asked a colleague to finish my route for me," Seymour replied. "I'm free to pursue this case for the rest of the weekend. I'll just run along and fetch my clothes, and we can be off."