Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [33]
“You might have asked if you could use our telephone,” Erma grumbled.
“It’s a pay phone?” Renie shot back. “There wasn’t time. Your daughter was about to expire from starvation.”
“Hardly,” Erma retorted. “But as long as you two are here, and Beulah isn’t, you could render a service. Please hang up our evening gowns. They’re in the boudoir on one of the beds. Or perhaps the floor.”
“Hey,” Renie began, “we’re guests, and—”
“We’d be delighted,” Judith broke in. “That’s why,” she went on, flashing her cousin a warning glance, “we came here.” With a shove at Renie’s back, she headed through the open door on their left.
“You’re forgetting the first rule of sleuthing,” Judith said after she’d closed the door behind them. “Never overlook an opportunity to snoop.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Renie said, picking up Anemone’s lavender organza gown from the floor. “I’m not as experienced as you in such matters, but for the sake of my money, I’d search for secret panels and trapdoors.” She nodded at the large studio portrait of W. C. Fields on the opposite wall. “The safe’s probably behind that picture. Mae West is hiding it in our bedroom.” Renie moved the picture a couple of inches. “Yep, there it is. I’m going to leave W. C. Fields tilted. If ever someone could drive a person to drink, it’d be Erma Giddon. What was that Fields quote when the doctor told him he’d have to quit drinking or he’d lose his hearing? Fields said he wouldn’t quit because he liked what he drank a lot more than what he heard.”
“Unfortunately, that can make perfect sense,” Judith said, carefully placing Erma’s capacious lace and taffeta dress on a satin-covered hanger.
“Wow—that’s what I call a corset!” Renie exclaimed, holding up Erma’s foundation garment. “This looks like it was engineered by NASA.”
“Erma is a very large woman,” Judith said. “It’s a good thing Anemone doesn’t seem to have inherited her genes. Mr. Giddon must have been slim. I’d describe their daughter as almost wispy.”
“It looks as if they’ve brought most of their luggage,” Renie remarked, surveying the various sizes of suitcases stacked in a corner. “Of course it hasn’t been unpacked,” she added with obvious sarcasm, “since Beulah is colored and therefore not allowed on board until the cruise gets under way.”
“I wonder,” Judith mused, “how Erma got on with the other ethnic types at the party, including Magglio Cruz. Given her bigotry, I marvel that they’re friends, or at least acquaintances.”
“She probably considers him another servant, if of a higher class,” Renie said, tossing lingerie into a laundry hamper. “Not to mention that money erases color lines.”
“I suppose,” Judith said in a detached voice. She was staring at a black velvet case on the dressing table. “This looks like a jewel box. The key is lying next to it.” She couldn’t resist taking a peek. “Good Lord,” she said softly, “have a look.”
The parure of diamonds and emeralds lay on top, but underneath were ruby necklaces, pearl ropes, and more diamonds.
“There must be a fortune in here,” Renie said in an awed voice. “Why isn’t this case in the safe? We don’t have anything to hide in ours unless you count chewing gum and breath mints.”
“Because Erma’s wearing those big pearl earrings?” Judith guessed. “She hasn’t finished flashing her gewgaws yet.”
“Very impressive,” Renie said as Judith closed the case and locked it. “I’ll bet she left a bunch more at home.”
“Anemone doesn’t seem to be into jewels,” Judith remarked. “She didn’t wear any tonight except for her engagement ring. It’s a very simple, small diamond set in white gold. I’m not interested in Erma’s gems or Anemone’s lack thereof. I’m intrigued by the personalities that make people behave as they do. For example, Erma has a large appetite—for food, for jewels, for everything she can buy to fill up the emptiness inside. Anemone—perhaps learning how not to live from her mother—has chosen a simpler lifestyle. Is it because she knows her mother is wrong—or because she somehow feels guilty about the old girl