Chapter Eleven
Hannah stifled a yawn as she loaded pots and pans into one of the industrial-sized dishwaters at the Thompson cottage kitchen. She had volunteered for the task to free up the other women who wanted to see the slide show that Lisa, Herb, and Norman had compiled from the old family photos that everyone had brought. Hannah had wanted to see the slide show, too, but she knew she was far too tired to keep her eyes open once she was snuggled down on a blanket on the beach, the alternate venue Lisa and Herb had arranged because the pavilion was still roped off as a crime scene. Norman had rented a giant-screen television, the kind they used for huge outdoor events, from a place in Minneapolis, and the men who’d delivered it had helped to run an extension cord from the nearest cottage. Even though she was across the road and up the equivalent of a city block from the festivities, Hannah could hear applause and laughter from the family members gathered on the beach.
The moths beat themselves silly against the screens as Hannah finished loading one dishwasher and poured in the heavy-duty detergent. Only one more to load and she could go home.
Hannah yawned again as she rinsed out the crock of a slow cooker and found a place for it on the bottom rack of the second dishwasher. She was short on sleep and long on worries. For one thing, she was still having trouble banishing the thought of that ice pick. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, since she’d found victims who’d suffered more violent and much gorier deaths in the past. But there was something about the fact that the killer might have used one of her grandfather’s Christmas gifts to his customers as a murder weapon that really disturbed her. Perhaps it was because she had an ice pick just like it at home.
There was another reason Hannah was worried, and it had to do with Moishe. Would she arrive home to find that the cat she’d adopted had shredded every pillow and piece of stuffed furniture in her condo?
“Hannah?” a voice called out, accompanied by a knock on the wooden frame of the screen door. “I need to talk to you, Hannah.”
Hannah recognized the voice. It was Ava from the Eden Lake Store. “Come on in, Ava. It’s not locked.”
“Do you need some help?” Ava walked over to the sink and stared down at a saucepan that was waiting to be scoured.
“Not really. I’m almost done. What’s on your mind?”
“There’s something I have to tell you. It’s about Gus.”
Hannah turned to look at her. Ava appeared extremely upset, and Hannah hoped she wasn’t about to hear a confession! “What is it?” she asked.
“The Beesemans from Red Wing were in, and she mentioned that they weren’t sure the body they found was really Gus.”
“That’s right. Marge had some doubts, and so did Patsy.”
“And this Mrs. Beeseman…Betsy, I think her name was…said there wasn’t any way to tell, since Gus hadn’t had any distinguishing marks or scars on him when he left Lake Eden.”
“That’s right.”
“Well…he did.”
“He did what?”
“He did have a distinguishing mark on him.”
“A scar?”
“No, a tattoo. It was two crossed bats and a ball, almost like that major league baseball logo they show on TV before every game.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“But why didn’t anyone else mention it?”
“I don’t think anybody else knew.”
“Not Marge? Or Patsy?”
“Neither one of them. It was a tattoo in…well…a kind of a private place.”
Hannah didn’t really want to ask, but she knew she should. “What kind of private place are we talking about here?”
“Backside private. On the left.”
“You mean…?” Hannah used her own anatomy to pat the area in question.
“That’s it. That’s exactly where it was.”
“And this isn’t just hearsay. I mean, you’re sure this tattoo was…there?”
“It was there. I saw it with my own two eyes way back in high school.” Ava stopped and looked highly embarrassed. “But it’s not what you’re thinking,” she added quickly.
“I wasn’t thinking. I was trying really hard not to think.”
“Good. It’s just that I went over to visit Marge and Patsy one day, and Mrs. Klein told me I could wait up in their room and read some of their movie magazines. So I went up there, and on the way I passed by Gus’s bedroom. The door was open, and he was inside getting dressed. And his backside was to me.”
“And you saw it?”
“Yes. That was when I saw it. He didn’t see me standing there, so I hurried on down the hall as quiet as I could be. And I went straight into Marge and Patsy’s room. I’m absolutely positive he didn’t know I was there, and that’s all there was to it.”
Ava finished her account in a rush, as if she’d rehearsed it several times before delivering it to Hannah. That made Hannah doubt that Ava was being entirely truthful, but she couldn’t prove otherwise and it really didn’t matter in the long run.
“Thanks for telling me, Ava,” Hannah said. “And if Marge and Patsy knew, they’d thank you, too. It’s one sure way to tell if the victim really was Gus.”
Ava looked worried. “I’m not going to have to testify, or anything like that, am I?”
“I wouldn’t think so. It really doesn’t have anything to do with the murder. It’s just a question of whether he was who he said he was…or not.”
“Good! I was worried about that, but I thought I should tell you anyway.” Ava headed for the door, but she turned back before she got there. “Thanks a lot, Hannah.”
“That’s okay. I’m really glad you told me.”
“So am I, but that’s not it.”
“Not what?”
“That’s not what I’m thanking you for. You see, Bill dropped by and paid Gus’s bill out of the money they found in his wallet. So now I’ve got the money, and I don’t have to be worried about that anymore.”
“I’m glad,” Hannah said, figuring that Bill had pulled some strings to do that. Everyone knew that Ava was on a tight budget and couldn’t afford to absorb many losses.
“I’m getting a new Popsicle flavor in next week. Drop in and have one on me.”
“Thanks, Ava. I’ll do that.” Hannah gave her a wave as she went out the door, and then she turned back to her dishwashing chores. At least now she knew how to tell if the body she’d found was really Gus Klein…if he hadn’t had his tattoo removed after he’d left Lake Eden. She’d just finished adding several soup ladles, a bean pot, and two slow cooker crocks to the bottom rack when there was another knock, a very timid knock, on the frame of the screen door.
“Who is it?” Hannah called out.
“Barbara Donnelly. I need to talk to you, Hannah.”
“Come in. It’s open.” Hannah made quick work of stashing a metal spatula on the top rack of the dishwater. She had no idea why Bill’s secretary wanted to talk to her, but perhaps she could pump Barbara for information. “I thought you were at the slide show.”
“I was, but Norman told me that my pictures of Marge and Patsy at Girl Scout Camp won’t come for another half hour. And I wanted to see you, so I came right over.” Barbara walked to the sink and picked up a scouring pad. “Do you need some help?”
“Not really, I’m almost through,” Hannah said, experiencing a flash of déjà vu. “Why did you want to see me, Barbara? You look a little upset.”
“It’s what Marge said about Gus at the family meeting.”
“And that was…?” Hannah asked to encourage her.
“That they didn’t have any way of telling whether Gus was really their brother. She said a lot of time had passed and they really couldn’t tell by just looking at him. And then she mentioned that Gus didn’t have any distinguishing marks.”
“Right,” Hannah said, that sense of déjà vu growing stronger.
“Well, he did except Marge didn’t know about it. Patsy didn’t either. Nobody did unless they happened to…” Barbara stopped and cleared her throat. “Maybe I’d better start again.”
Hannah gave her an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”
“It was the summer right before my senior year at Jordan High. A bunch of us went out to the lake to swim, and we needed a place to change into our suits. You’ve seen the changing rooms, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” Hannah had used those same changing rooms when she’d taken swimming lessons as a child. They consisted of a concrete slab enclosed by an eight-foot high block wall on three sides. The fourth wall did not complete the enclosure. Instead it ran parallel to the first wall making a passageway about four feet wide. It also stopped about four feet short of joining the second wall so that a swimmer could walk inside the hallway that was formed, turn the corner into the large part of the enclosure, and have privacy from anyone outside.
“You know how the changing rooms don’t have a roof, and they’re open on top?”
“I know.”
“The Lion’s Club had them built that way so they wouldn’t get all moldy inside. My dad explained it to me. But the girls’ changing room had a low spot on the floor right by the door. If it rained, there was a big puddle full of all sorts of nasty leaves and things and it didn’t dry up for a couple of days.”
“I understand,” Hannah said because Barbara seemed to be waiting for her to say something.
“Well, we didn’t want to walk through the leaves and yuck, so we decided we’d use the boys’ changing room if nobody was in it. The only problem was that somebody had to check to see. I was the only one that could scale the wall, so I did and I peeked inside. And there was Gus Klein just ready to step into his swim trunks.”
Hannah thought she knew what was coming next, but there was only one way to make sure. She clamped her lips shut and waited for Barbara to go on with her story.
“His back was to me, and I saw his tattoo. It was two crossed bats with a baseball in between. And it was on his left side, just about where his back pocket would have come if he’d been wearing pants. I jumped down in a hurry so he wouldn’t know I’d seen him. And then we ran back to the car and held up the blanket my dad always kept in the trunk, and took turns changing in the backseat.”
“Did you mention what you’d seen to anyone else?”
“Good heavens, no!” Barbara looked shocked. “I didn’t want Gus to know I’d seen him and one of the girls would have told. Anyway, that’s it, Hannah. I just thought I should tell you right away. I didn’t want to mention it to Bill for the obvious reason.”
“What obvious reason is that?” Hannah was curious.
“He’d think I was a snoop, or maybe worse. I did date Gus for a while, you know.”
“I didn’t know, but thanks for telling me.” Hannah gave her a warm smile. “And don’t worry. I won’t mention what you said to anybody.”
After Barbara left, Hannah turned back to the work at hand. She scoured two frying pans, a pasta pot, and a scoop encrusted with something that looked like scrambled eggs but probably wasn’t. She stashed them in the dishwasher, poured in the heavy-duty detergent, and gave a final look around the kitchen to make sure everything was spotless. Then she turned both dishwashers on, gave a final wipe to the kitchen counters, switched off the lights, and headed for the door. She was just stepping out when she ran smack into Rose McDermott.
“Hi, Rose,” Hannah said, wondering if she was going to get the tattoo story for the third time that evening.
“I was looking for you, Hannah. Hal’s still at the slide show, and I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Sure, Rose.” Hannah sat down in the old porch swing that graced the porch of the Thompson cottage, and pointed to a wicker chair. “Sit down and be comfy.”
“Thanks. Your guy is sure doing a great job with that slide show.”
Which guy is that? Hannah wanted to ask, but she didn’t. She knew perfectly well that Rose was referring to Norman.
“Anyway…Marge called a family meeting this afternoon. Hal’s her third cousin twice removed, you know, so we went. And she told us she wasn’t sure that Gus was really her brother Gus, but since he didn’t have any scars, or marks, or anything like that when he left Lake Eden, they had to wait for DNA testing to find out for sure.”
“Right.”
“Anyway…he did.”
“Did?” Hannah prompted, even though she was sure she knew what was coming.
“Did have a mark. Gus had a tattoo. He had it when he was a senior in high school.”
“And you know this for a fact?”
“I saw it!” Rose said, and Hannah knew she was nodding for emphasis, even though it was dark and all she could see was Rose’s slightly darker shape in the chair. “Actually, I saw it twice. But I wouldn’t admit it to anybody but you, Hannah. Hal would just die if he ever found out what Gus did.”
Uh-oh! Hannah had all she could do not to groan out loud. She really didn’t want to know the details of how Rose had seen Gus’s tattoo. Twice. Tacked on top of her natural reticence to hearing something embarrassingly personal was the fact that Rose was at least ten years older than Gus, maybe more.
“Just describe the tattoo,” she told Rose. “I don’t need to know anything else.”
“It’s okay. I want to tell you. I’ve kept the secret all these years, and I know you won’t say anything to anybody. It was right after Hal and I were married and he was running the café by himself. I was still working as head secretary at the school.”
“I didn’t know you worked at the school.”
“I was there for four years. I started right after I graduated high school, when Mr. Garrison’s secretary moved away. He was the principal before Mr. Purvis.”
Hannah wasn’t sure what being the principal’s secretary had to do with Gus and seeing his tattoo, but asking wouldn’t do any good. Rose liked to tell things her way.
“Gus was no stranger to the principal’s office. He was always getting into trouble. Nothing big, but since the other guys looked up to him so much for being such a fine athlete, he was supposed to set a good example.”
“And he didn’t?” Hannah guessed.
“Not hardly!” Rose gave a little laugh. “Gus was a hellion, pure and simple. He was always getting into trouble. It was nothing big, just pranks and stuff, but there wasn’t a week that didn’t go by without Gus being sent to Mr. Garrison’s office. And Mr. Garrison was an old Army man. He believed in corporal punishment if the occasion warranted.”
“Go on,” Hannah said, beginning to get a glimmer of things to come.
“Anyway…Gus did something particularly bad the week that school started. I don’t remember exactly what it was after all this time, but it had something to do with the drama teacher and three dead frogs.”
Hannah’s imagination took off like a rocket, and she had all she could do to keep it in check. “And Gus got caught for what he’d done?” she prompted.
“That’s right. Anyway…I was about to take some reports to the superintendent’s office when Gus came in. I knocked on Mr. Garrison’s door, showed Gus in, and then I went to deliver those reports. When I got back, Mr. Garrison’s door was closed and all I could hear was a loud whacking noise.”
“Corporal punishment?” Hannah guessed.
“And how! The first thing I noticed was that the Board of Education was gone. It was a paddle that hung on the wall right outside Mr. Garrison’s office. It said Board of Education on it, and the Board part was in red because it was supposed to be a joke.”
“I get it.”
“Anyway…I knew right away what was happening. Mr. Garrison was spanking Gus with that paddle. And from the sound I was hearing, there was nothing between that paddle and Gus’s behind.”
“I understand.”
“Now normally I wouldn’t have done anything at all. I mean, I was only the secretary and Mr. Garrison had a right to punish the students however he wanted. It’s different now, of course. But I was a little worried because Gus wasn’t making any noise at all. So I went to the door, peeked through the keyhole, and saw the whole thing.”
“What whole thing?”
“Mr. Garrison was spanking Gus. His pants were down, he was bent over, and his back was to me. I could see the tattoo as plain as day, Hannah. It was crossed bats with a baseball between them. Of course everything around it was inflamed and I knew Mr. Garrison had been paddling him for quite a while.”
“What did you do?” Hannah asked, not able to resist.
“What could I do? I was Mr. Garrison’s secretary, and I couldn’t interrupt him. So I went back to my chair and I waited until he was finished and Gus came out of the office.”
“And then you…?”
“Offered Gus some lanolin. I had it in my desk drawer because my hands were chapped. And I figured that if it helped my hands, it might be good for Gus’s you-know-what.”
“Makes sense,” Hannah said. “So you gave Gus some lanolin?”
“That’s right. And next time he came in, a week later, he tossed the tube of lanolin on my desk and thanked me.”
“That’s nice.”
“Not really. Because right after he thanked me, he dropped his pants and mooned me to show me that the Board of Education paddle hadn’t left any marks.”
“Oh.” Hannah said, still slightly confused. “But I don’t understand why you’re so nervous about Hal finding out you gave Gus the lanolin.”
“It’s not that,” Rose said. “It’s just that Hal was in the Army with Bill Garrison, and if he ever found out that one of the students Bill disciplined mooned me to show that Bill’s paddling had healed, he’d be really angry at me for not telling Bill about it.”
“I understand,” Hannah said, even though she didn’t. It was another case of chalking it up to sensibilities she didn’t comprehend. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m not about to say anything to anybody.”
“I know you won’t.” Rose stood up. “I’d better get back before Hal realizes I didn’t just go to the ladies’ room. Thanks, Hannah. And I really hope you catch Gus’s killer…if it really was Gus.”
Hannah sat there a moment after Rose left, just soaking up the peace of the night. The stars glittered brightly overhead and cast rippling streaks over the water. She could hear the mosquitoes buzzing, but her repellent was still working. It was a perfect summer night except for the puzzle of Gus Klein’s murder.
When she felt capable of actually moving, Hannah got up and went down the steps to the path that led to the parking lot. She passed by the picnic area and heard sounds of merriment and clapping as the slide show continued. She walked on for a minute or two and finally arrived at the public parking lot. She was just about to unlock the door to her cookie truck when someone called out to her.
“Hannah! Wait!”
Hannah stopped with the key in her hand and turned to see Delores rushing down the gravel road. Her mother had exchanged the high-heeled sandals she’d been wearing earlier for a pair of ballet-type flats, but she was hobbling a bit, as if they didn’t fit her.
“What’s the matter with your feet?” Hannah asked, when her mother arrived at the cookie truck.
Delores sighed loudly. “They’re Carrie’s shoes. She always brings an extra pair. But they’re too big and I have to curl my toes to keep them on.” Delores stopped and took several short breaths. “I need to talk to you, Hannah. It’s important.”
“Are you going to give me a lecture about how embarrassing it is for you when I find dead bodies?”
“No.”
Hannah reared back slightly in surprise. “You’re not?”
“I’m not. I’m responsible for this one, Hannah. I asked you to go look for Gus, but I really didn’t think you’d find him dead. It’s all my fault!”
Hannah began to frown. In the bluish light cast by the arc lights that ringed the public parking lot, she could see that her mother was agitated. “Are you trying to tell me you had something to do with his death?”
“Of course not. The last time I saw him was when I left the dance with Carrie at midnight.”
“But you look upset. What is it?”
“Marge and Patsy told everyone that Gus didn’t have any distinguishing marks.”
“That’s right,” Hannah confirmed it, “or at least they didn’t know about any distinguishing marks,” she amended, since she’d found out about one distinguishing mark from three sources so far.
“They wouldn’t necessarily know. Marge’s mother was death on body adornments. Marge really wanted to get her ears pierced, but her mother wouldn’t let her. After Patsy got married, Marge and I went to visit her while Mac was training at Camp Ripley. He was in the National Guard. All three of us went to the doctor and got our ears pierced.”
“That’s interesting, Mother,” Hannah said, even though it wasn’t. And then, despite the fact she didn’t really want to know, she asked, “But what does that have to do with distinguishing marks on Gus Klein?”
“Gus had a tattoo.”
Hannah worked hard to appear unfazed by the question that flashed through her mind. How did her mother know about Gus’s tattoo?
“This is highly embarrassing, but I feel it’s my duty to tell you,” Delores went on, “since you’ve agreed to investigate the murder.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Hannah blurted out.
“Yes, I do. You see, I dated Gus in high school, long before I met your father.”
Hannah came close to groaning. The best thing to do would be to cut her mother off at the pass, before she could say anymore. “I don’t need to know that, Mother. Was the tattoo two crossed bats with a baseball between them?”
“Yes!”
“And it was on the left of Gus’s backside?”
“That’s right! But how did you…?”
“Three women already told me about it,” Hannah interrupted her mother’s question. “And there’s probably a couple more waiting to catch me alone.”
“And they all told you about his tattoo?” Delores looked outraged. “That rat! He told me he loved me! Who were they? I have to know.”
“No, you don’t. They all found out about the tattoo by accident.”
“By accident? What do you mean?”
“One was visiting Marge and walked by his bedroom door when he was dressing, one peeked over the wall in the boys’ changing room at the lake, and the other one…” Hannah stopped abruptly. She couldn’t mention the principal’s office because her mother would be able to identify Rose as the secretary. “He mooned the other one,” she settled for saying, only recounting the second part of Rose’s experience.
“Likely stories!” Delores gave a little snort. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew all along that Gus was a rakehell.”
“Is that the same as a bounder and a scoundrel?” Hannah asked, exhausting her Regency Romance vocabulary.
“In a way, dear. It’s a matter of degree. But it’s water over the dam. It happened years ago, and I don’t know why I got so upset.”
“I do,” Hannah said, before she could stop herself.
“You do?”
“Yes. You wonder how you could have been so na?ve.”
“And gullible. And you wonder how many people know you were that vulnerable back then.”
“That, too.” Hannah reached out and squeezed her mother’s shoulder. Since she’d grown up in a family that seldom showed overt affection, this was tantamount to a hug. “The same thing happened to me when I was in school. But I was older and I really should have known better.”
“Really?” Delores gave Hannah’s hand a pat, the Swensen family way of returning a hug.
“There was someone in college, an assistant professor. He said he loved me, and I believed him, but I found out that he was engaged to somebody else.”
Delores looked shocked. “That’s just awful, dear!”
“It was. It took me a long time to get over it. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to go back to college after Dad died.”
“Because he was still there?”
“That’s right. He probably still is, for all I know.”
Delores gave her a shrewd look. “You don’t care enough to find out?”
“Not really.”
“You’re over it, then,” Delores pronounced. “The strange thing is, I was sure I was over Gus when I started dating your father.”
“But you weren’t?”
Delores frowned. “I think I was. And I’m sure it wouldn’t have bothered me a bit if your father were still alive. But he isn’t. And seeing Gus again brought up old memories.”
“I understand,” Hannah said. And she did.
“But I almost forgot to tell you something. I talked to Iris Herman Staples this afternoon. She’s Lisa’s oldest sister, you know.”
“I know.”
“Well, she remembered some cookies that their mother used to make, and she said they were Jack’s favorite cookies. She was just a toddler at the time, but she remembered them. Marge and Patsy did, too. They said their mother used to love those cookies so much, she’d hired Emmy to bake them whenever she had ladies over for meetings.”
“What kind of cookies were they?” Hannah asked.
“Patsy said that Emmy called them Red Velvet Cookies. We were eating a piece of Edna’s red velvet cake at the time, and they all agreed that the cookies were just like the cake, except that they had more chocolate in the batter and there were chocolate chips inside. They were even frosted with a cream cheese frosting. You’ve eaten Edna’s cake, haven’t you, dear?”
“Yes.” Hannah thought she knew exactly where her mother’s conversation was heading.
“I mentioned the cookies to Lisa, and she looked through her mother’s recipe box, but she couldn’t find any cookie recipe like that. Jack remembers them, though, and he told Lisa they were the best cookies he’d even eaten.”
Hannah couldn’t stay silent any longer. “So you want me to try to make a red velvet cookie that tastes like the one Jack remembers?”
“That’s right, dear. It won’t be too much trouble, will it?”
Hannah felt like laughing, but she didn’t. Her mother had no concept of how many batches of trial-and-error cookies she’d have to bake before she found the proper balance of ingredients. And even when she arrived at a cookie recipe that worked, she still had no assurance that it would even remotely resemble the cookie that Jack Herman remembered.
“Dear?”
Hannah gave a tired little sigh and bowed to the inevitable. “I’ll do my best, Mother,” she promised.
“I asked Edna to write out her recipe for you.” Delores handed her a piece of notebook paper covered with Edna’s fine, spidery writing.
“Thanks, Mother. This’ll help.”
“Then you think you can do it?”
“I’ll give it my best shot.”
“By tomorrow night? It’s Jack’s birthday, and I think it would be wonderful to surprise him with a batch of his favorite cookies. Unless, of course, you’re too busy to bake them.”
“I’ll try, Mother,” Hannah repeated, realizing that it would be another night with less sleep than she needed.
“Thank you, dear. Just let me know if there’s any way I can help you.”
Hannah was about to say there was nothing her mother could do, when she thought of something. “There is one thing…”
“You want me to help you bake?” Delores sounded even more panic-stricken than Andrea had when Hannah had once asked her to listen for the timer and take cookies out of the oven at The Cookie Jar.
“No, Mother. I can handle the baking part. It’s just that I need to ask you more questions about Gus. Will you drop by the shop around ten for coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Of course I will.”
“Good. I’ll try to have a test cookie ready for you to taste. And could you ask Marge to let you into the library later tonight or early tomorrow morning to collect any Jordan High yearbooks you can find with pictures of Gus?”
“I’ll do it right after the slide show’s over. Marge wants to help you any way she can.”
“Thanks. I’d better get going, Mother. I want to mix up some cookie dough tonight and bake it first thing tomorrow morning.”