Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [43]
Biff shrugged. “Sure, why not? Okay, Mrs. Flynn, how well did you know the stiff?”
Fleetingly, Judith wondered if Joe had ever been so crass when dealing with a suspect. Maybe he had. The rough armor worn by cops was an occupational necessity.
“I’d never met him before in my life,” she stated.
“So how come you’re on this cruise?”
“Because my cousin, Mrs. Jones, invited me,” Judith explained. “Her husband wasn’t able to join her.”
“Hunh.” Biff studied both women as if he were trying to see behind what appeared to be innocent facades. “Let’s get back to the murder,” he finally said. “Notice anything suspicious?”
The question seemed to be directed at Renie. “You mean like a dead body?”
Before Biff could reply, Judith spoke up: “I only glimpsed the body when I went to find Dixie Beales’s evening bag. My cousin never saw it at all. Captain Swafford and his crew kept everyone away from the piano. It was Émile Grenier who found Mr. Cruz.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know that,” Biff retorted as a cell phone rang. “I’ve questioned most of the rest of that hoity-toity crowd.” The cell kept ringing. It sounded very close to the cousins. “Did either of you see anybody acting strange?”
“They’re all a little strange,” Renie replied as the phone rang again. “Say, is that your cell?” she asked Biff.
“My…?” Biff looked around, perhaps expecting to see a phone floating in the air. “Oh!” He reached inside his raincoat. “You’re right.” Fumbling with the cell’s buttons, he shook his head. “Whatever happened to dials? I can’t stand these newfangled…McDougal here,” he said into the receiver.
Judith and Renie exchanged bemused glances.
“The note?” Judith mouthed, discreetly nodding at Biff.
“The one on the plate?” Renie whispered.
“Should I mention it?” Judith asked in a low voice as Biff jabbered into the phone.
“Your call,” Renie said.
Judith grew thoughtful. Anonymous notes connected to a murder were sinister, even when they only said Butt Out. On the other hand, she didn’t want to explain that the sender might know about her guise as FATSO. Biff, however, was clearly preoccupied.
“Holy cow!” he shouted, again drawing attention from the other customers. “Be right there!” He dropped the phone, groped under the table, shoved Judith’s carry-on bag out of the way, and grabbed Renie’s shoe.
“Hey!” Renie snapped. “Keep your hands to yourself!”
“Huh?” The detective looked up. “Oh—sorry.” He ducked under the table again.
Judith felt the phone next to her own foot. Gently, she moved it out onto the carpet. “It’s right there. See it?”
Biff spotted his prey and snatched it up. “Gotta run,” he said, almost knocking over his chair. “Big jewel heist!”
“Hold it!” Renie had slid down in her seat and put out a leg to block Biff’s progress. “Whose jewels?”
Red in the face and looking annoyed, Biff staggered around Renie’s outstretched leg. “The old Giddon broad. How crazy can this case get?”
Judith wondered, too.
NINE
“IT FIGURES,” RENIE said as notes from the Compass Rose piano filtered through the hotel’s civilized air. “Murder, jewel theft—when do we find out who’s being blackmailed?”
“That’s not impossible,” Judith said. “As far as Magglio Cruz’s death is concerned, we didn’t learn one thing from Biff McDougal.”
“Except that Biff’s incompetent?”
“He seems to be,” Judith allowed. “He reminds me of one of the cops who was involved in that case last spring. What was his name?”
“His nickname was Trash,” Renie recalled. “It suited him. He spent more time eating than working.”
“You’re not one to complain about that,” Judith said with a little smile. “Speaking of which, let’s not. Eat, I mean. I’m honestly not hungry and we, too, have work to do.”
Renie gazed at the menu as if she were bidding farewell to a long-lost love. “You’re right. I’ll sign the bill on our way out.”
Back in their suite, Judith got out the phone book. “Ah. The St. Georges are listed. They live on Sacramento Street.” She wrote the number and address down on a piece of hotel notepaper