"That made you decide to kill them?" Ciders pressed.
Behind her bright red glasses, Maggie's eyes narrowed. "How would you feel? To hear that your father's murderers were invited to some festival to be celebrated? To hear the people responsible for your mother's misery, the ones who drove her to drink herself to death, were being honored. Applauded?! Oh, no. No, no, no!"
Maggie vehemently shook her head; her bouncy curls fell into her eyes. She hurled them back with a violent head toss. "I started making my plans as soon as Dr. Lilly contacted me. Only I was the one who would be using Irene Lilly, not the other way around. She didn't care about my father. She was set on resurrecting the scandal for her own recognition and profit.
But, you see… she knew who I was, and that's why she had to be first. Before anyone else went, she had to go. And she did. All it took was one little push off a ladder."
Ciders noticed me then, standing among his officers. He met my eyes, nodded his head. It was the closest thing to official recognition I'd ever get. But, frankly, for this little town, it was good enough for me. Anyway, I had to hand it to the chief: For all his faults and bluster, he certainly knew how to keep a perp talking!
"And what about those innocent people at Hedda's table?" Ciders added tightly, his contained outrage starting to leak through. "They could've drunk that poisoned wine and died to-night, too."
Maggie frowned, looked away. "Collateral damage," she muttered. "Crap happens."
Ciders cursed. He'd finally heard enough. "Take her away."
Two giant state police officers in gray uniforms and Smokey the Bear hats opened the door of the patrol car and guided Maggie inside. Then Detective-Lieutenant Marsh stepped up to Ciders.
"Who made this collar?" his voice boomed. "I have a few questions."
"It was my senior officer, Eddie Franzetti," Ciders said. "Eddie! Front and center!"
I wasn't worried about Eddie knowing the case. I'd briefed him well before anyone arrived. He was a smart guy. Always was. My brother, Pete, had loved him like a brother, too.
"Yes, sir?" said Eddie, standing tall, legs braced in front of the brawny state detective. "You have questions?"
"Dozens, son," replied the detective-lieutenant. "But at the moment I just want to say: Good work!" Marsh shook Eddie's hand. "You ever think about coming over to the state police, you let me know. Investigations can use a good man like you."
"Oh, yeah? Well, so can the town of Quindicott," said Chief Ciders, breaking the two men up. "Eddie's on track for a big promotion."
Eddie's eyes widened. "I am?"
"Doggone right!" Ciders insisted, slapping Eddie on the back. "You're a valuable member of the department, Eddie. I'm not about to lose you… "
As the lawmen continued to polish their laurels, I yawned and noticed my aunt Sadie hurrying up to me. She was looking quite smart in a forties-style wool suit and matching hat, white gloves on her hands, red gloss on her lips. Bringing up the rear was Bud Napp. My jaw dropped at the sight of him.
All that talk of dressing like Tarzan was obviously a joke; I'd never seen the man more stylishly attired. A charcoal-colored double-breasted suit hugged his tall, lanky form. He was cleanshaven (for once), and his usual ball cap with the frayed brim was replaced with a sharply boxed fedora. He wore a pearl silk tie with a diamond stick pin and a handkerchief to match.
"Penelope!" Aunt Sadie cried. "Are you all right? We heard what you did!"
"Who, me?" I said with a shrug. "I just bumped my elbow while I was waving to Eddie for help."
Bud folded his arms. "That's a load of crap, Pen. I know it was you who did the dirty work. You were on this case from the very beginning."
I smiled and lowered my voice. "Let's just keep that between friends, okay?"
I gestured to Eddie, who was getting patted on the back by the state officers and his fellow cops, including a petulant-looking Bull McCoy. That alone gave me satisfaction.
"So," I said, turning back to my aunt and her beau, "who are you two dressed as? You both look great."
"I'm Kay Bentley," Aunt Sadie said. "The brash and beautiful reporter from Sleepers West"
"And I'm Detective Mike Shayne, Irish-American private eye, who can't keep his eyes off the brash and beautiful reporter-same movie."
I laughed for a second, and then I wanted to cry. "The dinner's totally ruined, isn't it?"
Sadie and Bud shook their heads. "Not at all. Fiona's serving now. Brainert's announced the dinner will be a tribute to Dr. Lilly, Barry Yello, Hedda Geist, and Pierce Armstrong. Don't forget, dear, this is a crowd of film noir fans. Everything that happened this weekend pretty much reinforced their view of this bitter little world."
Epilogue
Didn't I tell you all females are the same with their faces washed?
– Dead Reckoning, 1947
HEY, PENNY WITH the copper hair…
"Jack! Where've you been? I haven't heard from you in days."
I needed a rest, baby.
"You're kidding? Are you telling me the excitement in this little cornpone town was actually too much for Wild Jack, King of the Asphalt Jungle?"
Something like that.
A full week had passed since the film festival murders, and the town was finally getting back to normal. Brainert's theater had moved on to showcasing European New Wave cinema, Sadie was out on a date with Bud at the Seafood Shack, and I was extremely happy to be sitting at home on the living room couch, finally looking after my son in person.
Spencer was getting so big now, growing up so fast. I knew there wouldn't be many more years where we could just play Scrabble, eat Franzetti's take-out pizza, and watch Jack Shield episodes on the Intrigue Channel until bedtime.
So I've got some questions for you, partner. Jack's deep voice rumbled through my head.
"Partner…" I smiled. "I do love the sound of that word."
I know you do.
"Okay, shoot-not with an actual gun or anything."
If you start with the bad jokes, I'm leaving.
"Wow, Jack. Who knew Borscht Bell one-liners could be a form of exorcism."
Listen, smartypanties, my question is about that academic broad, Dr. Lilly.
"Go for it."
Did the police ever recover the stolen items from her bungalow?
"You're taking about her laptop, manuscript, and tapes? The ones Barry swiped for Maggie Kline the morning she signed books at our store?"
Yeah, baby. That's what I'm talking about.
"Well, according to Eddie, the police found all of that stolen stuff in Maggie's luggage. And after they combed through it all, they found exactly what I thought they would-lots and lots of source material, the stuff Brainert said was missing from Dr. Lilly's first book. There were copies of Jack Warner's memos and Irving Vreen's written answers, too."
Where the hell did Lilly even get that stuff after all these years?
"Apparently some old studio executive died and left a storeroom of books, files, film clips, and movie memorabilia to relatives. They sold the stuff in lots on eBay. Dr. Lilly was doing research on another subject entirely-the casting process of film noir stars-but when she stumbled upon these old memos and letters about Hedda Geist, she started digging into that story and realized she'd uncovered a fresh angle on a sixty-year- old scandal."
Hmmmm… then our dead Lilly turned out to be some detective, huh?
"No doubt. Among her things, there was a paper trail showing how she tracked down Pierce Armstrong and contacted Hedda Geist. She had even obtained a copy of Margaret Vreen's birth certificate as well as her adoption papers, and other proofs of her true identity."