The Marsh Madness

I wasn’t entirely sure why they let me go back inside, but they did. I noticed she didn’t wipe her boots as she entered the back hallway. This sent the signora into a fit of mopping. No more coffee and cookies for you, Lootenent, I thought. But the visit wasn’t a good thing. Castellano demanded to see Vera. Vera didn’t have a lawyer yet.

Vera was in the library, the signora finally admitted, looking Italianate daggers at Castellano. I wondered how the detective would ward off that evil eye.

“You stay here,” the lieutenant said to me.

“But—”

“‘But’ all you want. Stay here.”

Sammy stepped forward. She shot him a glance. “Do you represent them both, Counselor?”

“No.”

“Then you can stay here too.”

Smiley looked pale as he followed Castellano’s clicking heels along the endless corridor to the study. He was lugging two boxes, taped with evidence tape. “VAN ALST” was written in black marker. Stoddard stood inside, lazily observing us. I barely stopped myself from asking him to help the signora clean up after his colleague, if he had nothing to do but lounge around. But she’d already done the mopping.

My iPhone pinged. A text from Tiff.

Haven’t seen the sun since we left Aruba. I am the only nurse, and I’m pretty sure we are about to have a norovirus outbreak. :( Ship satellite keeps going out. I think I’ve made a huge mistake. :( :( :(

Here I was imagining Tiff enjoying herself on the high seas, but it was more like Clutch of Constables, only with less murder and even more irritated Americans than Ngaio Marsh had included. I think Tiff and I were both wishing she was back in Harrison Falls right now.

Five minutes later, Smiley returned, still carrying the two boxes. Vera wheeled after him, her face contorted. “Spitting mad” came to mind.

“Miss Bingham,” she said when he’d left. “That young man took my Marsh books. Every single one of them. I think you’re right about that lawyer. Let me know when you get him lined up.”

I stood outside and watched while Castellano and Stoddard left, Stoddard at the wheel of a black Chevy Tahoe. Smiley brought up the rear in his clearly marked cruiser, following the other officers in theirs.

Our regular guy stayed behind, to keep an eye, I guess.

When I came back in, Vera had rolled off in a rage. I didn’t blame her.

Would they be back to sift through every molecule of our possessions again or arrest us?

I asked Sammy, “What will they do with the books?”

“Forensics will check them for . . . evidence.”

“Why did they wait until now to collect them?”

“Who knows? Maybe they have a plan to rattle you one by one.”

“This has definitely rattled Vera. But what should we do?”

“You have to wait and see what they come up with. Don’t go running off.”

“That would never have occurred to me,” I fibbed.

“You didn’t make any statements about the stuff they found? Did you stick to ‘no comment’?”

“I may have said a few things. This stuff was obviously planted. It was in such a stupid place. No self-respecting thief would leave it there. I’m sure they would sell or melt it down, not leave it under a bush.”

Sammy huffed. “Tell me you didn’t say ‘melt it down.’”

“I didn’t.”

He said, “I should have been here. You call me the first sight of them the next time. ‘No comment.’ That’s what you say. It’s easy. And that way you don’t say something you can’t unsay. It’s too late for this time, but remember from now on, because they’ll be trying to trip you up.”

I hated the idea of “next time” and “after this.” “I did call you as soon as they said they found something.”

“You call me when they get here or when you know they’re coming.”

“Lesson learned, but we knew the police were getting warrants. Why would any one of us leave that stuff there? How could they believe that?”

“I deal with stupid criminals all the time, Jordan. You’re not stupid and you’re not a criminal, so I know you wouldn’t. But they will have seen stranger and more self-incriminating things. Trust me.”