The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady

“Anyway,” Ophelia went on, “you can see that the sergeant’s list is longer than mine. It has more names on it. Eighteen more, to be exact.” She put another list down, this one handwritten. “These eighteen people are due some twenty-two thousand dollars.”


“Huh.” Charlie frowned down at the list. “Well, maybe you didn’t get everybody. Maybe you skipped some. Maybe the sergeant saw the problem and typed up a correct list.”

“Or maybe not.” Ophelia produced a Cypress County telephone directory. “Here. Pick a few names at random and look up their phone numbers.”

Charlie chose one, checked for the listing, and couldn’t find it. Ditto for his second and third attempts. “Hey,” he said, frowning. “What gives? What’s going on here?”

“Exactly my question,” Ophelia said triumphantly. “None of those eighteen people are listed as having telephones, Charlie. What’s more, I don’t recognize a single name on that list, and neither does Jed. Plus, he doesn’t recognize any of the addresses. He says they’re fakes.”

“Fakes!” Charlie blinked. “But that means . . .” He stopped, considering, and put his finger on the bottom line. $22,000. “Okay. Tell me how the process works, Opie. How are these checks distributed?”

“Exactly the right question,” Ophelia said. “Every few months, I type up a voucher list like this one.” She tapped her list. “The checks are mailed in a batch to the quartermaster’s office. Sergeant Webb keeps them in his desk until the individual suppliers come in and pick them up.”

“Ah,” Charlie said. “And the sergeant will keep any that are not picked up.”

“I suppose.” Ophelia shook her head, frowning. “I hate to say it, Charlie, but this looks like a case of fraud. I wouldn’t have thought it of Sergeant Webb, who is such a by-the-book kind of guy, but I don’t see any other way to explain it.” Her frown deepened to a scowl. “And I don’t see how this is connected to the story you wanted me to help you with. Mata Hari’s tip was about a bribery scheme, wasn’t it? This—” She tapped the list again. “This isn’t bribery. It’s something else. So maybe Sergeant Webb was running both a bribery scheme and this . . . this voucher fraud?”

“No,” Charlie said, thinking that the plot was thickening at a rate he could barely keep up with. “Sergeant Webb wasn’t involved in the bribery, at least so far as we know. That was Corporal Andrews.”

“Corporal Andrews?” Ophelia pressed her lips together, shaking her head. Then she said, reluctantly, “I should have guessed, though. He was the one with the opportunity, since he was the one who arranged the contracts. I’m afraid I just didn’t see through his charm.” She gave him an uncertain look. “You’ve got evidence, I suppose. You’re sure?”

Charlie nodded. “There’s evidence. And yes, I’m sure. And it’s worse than bribery,” he added quietly. “He’s also a killer.”

“No!” Staring at him, Ophelia set her teacup down with a rattle. “You mean . . . Ray killed Rona Jean Hancock? But why? Were they having an affair? How—”

Charlie raised his hand. “Just be quiet for a moment and I’ll tell you.” He went through the whole thing, except for Lucy’s romantic escapade, which he kept mostly to himself. He ended with, “And that’s as much as I know, now. The sheriff has agreed to give me more of the details later. Maybe I’ll be able to include them in the special edition.”

“I . . . I just can’t believe it,” Ophelia said, biting her lip. “He seemed like such a nice guy. I was completely taken in.”

“You and a lot of other people, apparently,” Charlie said. He looked down at Ophelia’s lists. “And now there’s this. Which seems at the moment to be a separate thing entirely.”

Ophelia just sat there, shaking her head. “But what do we do now, Charlie? This fraud—or whatever you call it—it’s a government matter, isn’t it? But I’m not sure who at the camp we can trust.”