“I placed a few calls to friends of mine working the Hollywood beat,” Jim said. “I learned one thing of interest. Elias wasn’t the original choice for director. Gary Denham was.”

  “Gary?” Olivia’s fan moved languidly. “The assistant director? You mean he was demoted? He can’t have liked that.”

  “They went with a director with the bigger name and more solid reputation when Elias unexpectedly had a gap in his schedule. The picture he was supposed to be working on folded. The public reason the other picture stopped was artistic differences in the writing team. The real reason was that Elias had far grander plans than the producers were prepared to pay for. They got cold feet and pulled it. WolfeBright Pictures then got Elias on the cheap, and they demoted Gary to assistant director. People in the know say Catskill Dreams was Elias’s last chance to stay relevant, and he was in danger of blowing it. The studio was getting increasingly concerned he was going way over budget.”

  “That sounds like the way Elizabeth runs my hotel,” Olivia said. “She expects the very best from everyone, but then tells her department heads to cut back their expenditure.”

  “Business is a balance,” I said, stung at what I considered unfair criticism. “Doesn’t mean I have to serve rotten blueberries though.”

  “What do blueberries have to do with anything?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Gary would have been furious when the role of director was taken from him,” Olivia said. “How fortunate for him that he was reinstated. If the picture does well he’ll tell everyone it’s because he took it on and managed to save it. If it’s a bomb, obviously that’s because Elias made such a mess of it to begin with.”

  “Very fortunate,” Jim said.

  Olivia got to her feet in a smooth cool blue river. “I’m going to order lunch. Do you want anything, dear?”

  “I ate already.”

  “Jim?”

  “Thanks, but no. I need to be on my way.”

  “Todd Thompson?” I said once Olivia had gone inside, and Winston had wandered off in search of squirrels to play with.

  “Married,” Jim said.

  I wasn’t expecting that. “Whoa! Really?”

  “Really. He married his high school sweetheart when they were eighteen. They moved to LA shortly after that, and both of them tried their hands at acting. She got nowhere while he almost immediately started getting solid roles, and he hasn’t looked back. She didn’t like living in California and returned to Fort Wayne, Indiana, to live near her parents.”

  “They’re still married? Todd and this woman?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s common knowledge in Fort Wayne as well as the back offices of the movie studio. He visits her a couple of times a year. Her and their children. A set of twin boys and a baby girl.”

  I stared at him.

  “Yup. Close your mouth, Elizabeth. You’ll catch flies.”

  I did as instructed.

  Jim chuckled. “I’d say Todd does more than just visit when he goes home.”

  “You say it’s common knowledge. Why don’t the gossip magazines report on it?”

  “Because it’s in the interest of WolfeBright Pictures, who have him under contract, to keep Todd’s marital and parental situation on the q.t., and it’s in the interest of the magazines to keep up the pretext he’s a playboy-about-town. No one wants to see pictures of him reading a bedtime story to a two-year-old, or helping his wife wash the dishes after supper.”

  “What am I going to tell Velvet?”

  “Up to you to do what you want with what I’ve told you, Elizabeth. I can’t say if Todd’s trying to charm Velvet because he’s hoping to bed her, or if he’s simply playing the role he’s been assigned to the hilt. Todd might not even know. I don’t much care about his marital situation and romantic affairs, or about the reputation of his movie studio, but a double life is hard to keep up. It messes with people’s minds.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He grinned at me and stood up. “I’ll tell you about it someday.”

  I put down my glass and also stood. “I’ll walk back with you. I don’t suppose you know what Dave Dawson’s been up to today?”

  “He went to Kennelwood first thing this morning with more questions for the movie people. No sign of the state police yet. The autopsy’s scheduled for this afternoon, and Dave said he’ll speak to the press after that. Which is why I need to get into town.”

  “Will you let me know what he has to say?”

  “It’ll be on the radio and in tomorrow’s papers, but sure.”

  I hoped to get into my office without any guests stopping me to chat, or to complain, so I walked with Jim on the staff path that cuts around the rear of the main hotel building to the car park. Winston burst out of the trees and fell into step beside us. It was quiet at this time of day, not many staff around, as they were mostly at work. My aunt Tatiana came out of the laundry building reading from the papers on her clipboard, and the bulldog ran ahead to greet her.

  “I might do a story one day,” Jim said, “about the behind-the-scenes workings of a big Catskills hotel.”

  “I thought you were interested in the people who come here as guests,” I said.

  “I’m interested in lots of things. People mostly. Average, ordinary men and women trying to make a living, raise their families, and find some fun in their lives. I’m increasingly uninterested in the crime beat. Same old same old. Mob Guy One offends Mob Guy Two. Mob Guy Two offs Mob Guy One, and Mob Guy Three is out for revenge. And so it goes. Which is why, when a character like Elias Theropodous is murdered, it makes a big story. Gives reporters like me something new to talk about.”

  The path ends at the back of the hotel, next to the parking lot. A small overgrown trail breaks off here and goes around the side of the hotel to the back door of my office. Very convenient when I need to sneak out without the staff seeing me go.

  “I’ll call you after the press conference.” Jim trotted away.

  I started to turn for the office when the roar of a powerful car engine caught my attention. Two girls who worked as nannies for the hotel ran past me squealing with excitement, and I heard whistles and a boy exclaim, “Wow!”

  Wow indeed. A 1951 Chevrolet Styleline convertible, pale yellow with a cream interior, screeched into the small staff section of the parking lot. More girls gathered around to admire it, and several of the male staff began kicking at the tires or rubbing their hands over the body work. Even Jim stopped in his tracks to have a look.

  To my considerable surprise, none other than Luke Robinson was behind the wheel. He opened the driver’s door and leapt out, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Take me for a ride!” a girl squealed.

  “Yes, yes. Take us for a ride.” Her friend jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

  “Plenty of time, ladies, plenty of time,” Luke drawled. “This baby and I aren’t going anywhere.”

  “How many horses it got?” a boy asked.

  “More than you can handle, pal,” Luke replied.

  Two guests walked up, men in their forties. One let out a low whistle. “Nice wheels.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Is this your car, son?” the other man asked.

  “Yes, sir. Like it?”

  “Sure do. Wouldn’t mind one like that myself, but the wife wouldn’t be too keen.”

  “Nice to be young and rich, eh?” the first man said. “How’s it handle?”

  “It’s a beauty of a ride, sir. Handles like a”—Luke threw one of the wide-eyed nannies a smirk—“wild woman.”

  The girls screamed with laughter.

  Luke saw me watching. He put his hands on his hips, cocked his head to one side, and gave me what he probably considered to be a seductive grin. “Hey there, Mrs. Grady, want to go for a spin?”

  I walked toward them, making a big show out of checking my watch. “I believe they’re still serving lunch. Shouldn’t you be in the dining room, Luke?”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Grady. I arranged with Miss Sullivan to skip a shift. I’ll make it up.” He kept his eyes on my face and ran his hand lightly over the hood of the car. “I can make it up to you, if you’d like?”

  One of the boys choked. A girl giggled. The two guests had dropped to their knees in the dust and were peeking under the car.

  “None of the rest of you have any work to do?” I said to the onlookers.

  “Yes, Mrs. Grady. Sorry, Mrs. Grady.” They began to slip away.

  I followed them. I don’t know much about the price of cars, but I know something. When Olivia inherited the hotel and she and I made plans to leave Manhattan for remote Summervale, I insisted that she buy a car for our use. I wasn’t going to be trapped in the mountains, particularly in the winter, without a way of getting out. I spent a lot of time looking into the price and value of cars. The vehicle we eventually bought had had a previous owner and had been comfortably within our budget. The car Luke was so ostentatiously showing off must have originally cost in excess of two thousand dollars. If he bought it used, it would still have been far more than a summer waiter should be able to afford.

  Luke had never before shown any signs of having money. He was a college student, first-year law at Columbia, working here for the summer to earn next year’s tuition. He didn’t dress any better than the other waitstaff; he lived in staff accommodation, and until now he’d taken the bus into town with his friends on their nights off.

  Where had Luke suddenly come into enough money to afford that car?

  I took a guess, and I didn’t like what I came up with.

  Luke had been the waiter at Elias’s private dinner on Monday night. He’d been working in the ballroom after dinner, chatting to guests, dancing with the ladies. Until now, it hadn’t so much as crossed my mind to consider that Luke had been the best positioned of anyone to slip something into Elias’s food or drink. I thought back to that night. We had cocktails before dinner. Some people went to the bar for their drinks, some asked the waiters, including Luke, to get them. Mary-Alice had fetched Elias’s drinks, but I didn’t know whether she’d ordered directly from Rosemary at the bar or asked a waiter to do that. At seven o’clock, everyone took their seats around the table, me included. We carried our unfinished drinks with us. Wine was served with dinner, but I didn’t remember seeing Elias having wine. He stuck to his bourbon. The food was plated in the kitchen, and brought out by waiters. Ladies were served first and then the gentlemen. If he wanted to, Luke would have been able to place a particular plate in front of a particular person. I hadn’t considered him as a suspect because he had no motive.

  Only a short while ago, I’d dismissed Elias’s brother as a suspect because although he had a motive—years of pent-up anger and humiliation—he’d had no opportunity.

  Put the two together—Nick’s motive and Luke’s opportunity—and I had two very strong suspects.

  Had Nick Timmins, my saladman, paid Luke the waiter to kill Elias Theropodous?

  Chapter 16

  I slammed the office door behind me, picked up my phone, and asked the switchboard to place a call to the Summervale police station without even bothering to switch on the fan. The surly officer who answered told me the chief was in but not taking any calls. I told him it was important, and he said he’d check.

  I waited a very long time indeed, anxiously chewing at the end of my pencil, suspecting the officer was playing games with me, but eventually the line clicked and Dave Dawson said, “Elizabeth. This isn’t a good time. The mayor’s having a press conference in a few minutes, and I’ll have questions to answer. I can see town hall from my window, and I can tell you it’s a mob scene out there. Reporters have come from a long way away.”

  “I appreciate that, and thank you for taking my call. I’ll try to be quick. I discovered something that might be of importance. Did you know that Elias’s brother lives in Summervale and they got into a heated argument at the Red Spot Diner on Saturday morning?”

  “No. I did not know that. How do you?”

  “They were overheard by everyone in the diner, and Lucinda McGreevy told me about it. At the time, it was nothing but two old men arguing and getting themselves thrown out, and no one knew who Elias was. Lucinda didn’t tell you because she didn’t know either, until she was talking to me and put two and two together. Elias’s brother changed his name and is now called Nick Timmins, and he works here. At Haggerman’s. He’s the saladman.”

  “You think this Timmins . . . ?”

  “I think nothing. I’m telling you what I know, that’s all. I should also tell you that the waiter who served at dinner that night has just bought himself a fancy new car. An expensive car. A far more expensive car than a young man should be able to afford on a summer waiter’s salary.”

  “I remember the waiter. Luke Robinson. I spoke to him. He claims not to have noticed anything untoward all evening. I’ll need to talk to him again.” He paused. “It’s entirely possible he got the funds for this car by legitimate means. If not, it would be a heck of a risk on his part to rush out and spend the money so soon. Attract attention to himself.”

  “Luke’s an arrogant college kid, and not all that bright for all he’s intending to become a lawyer. I doubt he stops to worry about consequences. If you like, I can speak to him about it. Save you a trip out here if it turns out to be not necessary.”

  “That would be a help, thanks. Try not to put words in his mouth.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Don’t come right out and ask him if he was paid for poisoning a guest.”

  I was rather insulted. “I can be more subtle than that.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you can. In return, I’ll tell you what I’m about to announce to the press. Mr. Theropodous consumed a poisonous substance shortly before he died.”

  “That’s what the doctor suspected, but I suppose it’s good to have it confirmed. Can you be sure it was given to him deliberately? Deliberately administered to him by someone else?”

  “People have been known to kill themselves by taking poison,” Dave said. “But I have to say in light of what we know of Mr. Theropodous and his state of mind that evening, I consider it to be highly unlikely that’s what happened.”

  As, I had to admit, did I.

  “What sort of poison was it?” I asked.

  “That’s still to be determined, but there’s no shortage of dangerous substances lying around out in the open at the ordinary home. Or hotel. The sort of thing you can buy at any store: rodent killer and pesticides in particular. Easy to find, but putting it into someone’s food or drink makes it murder, Elizabeth. The pathologist estimates the man consumed the poison within two hours before feeling ill, and it was in his drinks.”

  “Meaning it definitely was taken at my hotel.”

  “Yes, but rest assured it couldn’t have been an accident or as a result of food incorrectly prepared. You’re in the clear there.”

  “That’s good to know. I wasn’t aware we were still under suspicion.”

  “The state police wanted to have your kitchen shut down.”

  I choked. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. If Haggerman’s failed, I could go back to the city and find a job as a bookkeeper easily enough, but this hotel was all Olivia had in the world.

  “I managed to convince them that would be premature,” Dave continued. “The mayor helped with that. Something about a large donation to the state police benevolent fund on the part of the town. You might also consider making a contribution.”

  “I’ll do that. I’m assuming the state police finally arrived?”

  “They showed up a short while ago. They claim they were sent to the wrong town. As though I don’t know the name of the town I live in.” With that Chief Dawson hung up.

  I got up to switch on the fan and stood in front of it for a few minutes, my arms held up and my legs apart, letting the lukewarm air swirl around my body. It didn’t help much. I dropped back into my chair, and once again picked up the phone. “I need to talk to Luke Robinson,” I said to the switchboard operator. “He’s a waiter, but he’s been given time off at today’s lunch shift. When last seen he was in the staff parking lot. Can you send a page for him, please, and have him come to my office. If not in the parking lot, check his room. If not there, he’ll have to be summoned by the loudspeakers.”

  “Got it,” she said.

  I opened my office door to admit the clatter of typewriter keys and the sound of women yelling into telephones and then resumed my position behind my desk to await my caller.

  Richard’s flowers were already beginning to droop in the heat. I reached out and touched the soft variegated leaf of a hosta, and I felt myself smiling.

  I took my fingers back, and opened the reservations book for next week, but I scarcely read a word. I chewed on the end of my pencil and thought about the best way to ask Luke about his car.

  Could I come right out and accuse him of taking bribes?

  I didn’t have long to think it over. Obviously the page had found him in the parking lot, holding court over his new car. He knocked on my office door less than five minutes after I’d placed the call.