The Darling Dahlias and the Naked Ladies

Verna had learned to be a telephone operator a few years before, when Mrs. Hooper needed extra help and she needed extra money, but she didn’t usually spend her lunch hour—or any hours—at the Darling Telephone Exchange. But being on the switchboard at noon was part of the plan she had mentioned to Liz, a plan that she had sold to Myra May the evening before.

At eight o’clock on Monday morning, as usual, Verna opened the probate office. Located on the second floor of the courthouse and to the right at the head of the stairs, the office had a reception room divided by a long wooden counter, with the public area on one side and three wooden desks and chairs on the other: one for Verna, one for Coretta Cole, and the third, behind a low partition, for Mr. Earle Scroggins, the elected probate clerk, just in case he should happen to drop in, which he didn’t, usually.

Mr. Scroggins was a fat, jovial man with a bulbous red nose and twin white mustaches that curled up on the ends. He wore red suspenders and a bow tie and owed his reelection for three consecutive six-year terms as probate clerk to the goodwill of the friends who, in their turn, called on him for important favors, usually (but not always) legal. Mr. Scroggins owned a cotton gin on the south side of town and a cottonseed oil mill over by the river, and (although he was always careful not to miss the monthly meetings of the county commissioners) did not see much point in spending a lot of time in the office, especially since Verna took such good care of everything.

Whenever he dropped in, Verna would hand him a pen and a bottle of ink and a few papers requiring his signature (she had already signed the rest), bring him up to date on anything that might present a major problem, and ask his opinion about one or two minor matters. He would smile and pat her on the shoulder and say, “Don’t reckon I could do without you, Miz Tidwell,” and go back to his cronies and his cotton gin.

To some people, Verna’s job might have seemed boring, but she enjoyed being responsible for the multitude of property transactions, tax liens, wills, probate orders, and election details that kept the machinery of Cypress County moving. She also liked her work because it gave her an inside look at what was going on at the moment. She always knew who was buying and selling property, because the office managed the property records. She knew who died or was born or got married, because the probate clerk issued marriage licenses and birth and death certificates, as well as filing wills and probate documents. The office also collected property tax payments, so Verna knew who had gotten so far behind on their taxes that the county was planning to put the property up for auction. When that happened, she was the one who recorded the sale. In fact, Verna often said that nothing of any consequence could happen in Cypress County without leaving a paper trail across her desk.

Until a few months ago, there had been two women full-time in the office, Verna and Coretta Cole. But tax revenues were down, and Mr. Scroggins had decided to save money by cutting staff hours. Now, Coretta worked only two days a week, usually Tuesdays and Thursdays. But Coretta had agreed to come in on Monday, instead. So Monday morning, when Liz Lacy phoned the probate office to give Verna the address she had found in Miss Jamison’s file, and (to Verna’s pleased surprise) a telephone number and a name as well, Verna could ask Coretta to take over for her. She could turn her attention to the plan she had concocted the evening before—the plan to deal with Mr. Gold.

It was not a plan that Verna could carry out for herself, however, which was why (after she had called Coretta on Sunday evening) she had put on a sweater and walked to the diner for a talk with Myra May. She told the whole story, from start to finish, laying all her cards on the table. But while Myra May had been intrigued by Verna’s suspicions (she read the newspapers and listened to the radio and was as interested as the next person in what those gangsters were doing up there in Chicago), she had at first said a firm “no” to Verna’s proposal, which appeared to violate certain important rules of the Darling Telephone Exchange.

But after Verna have finished explaining her plan and why she felt it was necessary, and especially after she had offered to work on the switchboard during the next day’s noon dinner hour (the diner’s busiest time), Myra May had agreed. With Lenore gone to Mobile for a few days and Violet still up in Memphis taking care of her dead sister’s new baby, Myra May was stretched as thin as a rubber band and just about as ready to snap. Most times of the day, she could handle both the diner and the switchboard if she had to, but not during the noon dinner rush, so Verna’s offer was welcome. Anyway, both Myra May and Verna were Dahlias, and Myra May knew that another Dahlia wouldn’t ask for that kind of help unless she really needed it.