Миранда Джеймс - Six Cats A Slayin'

Kanesha had listened to this without reaction. Once Melba stopped talking, the deputy looked at me for a moment.

“Since you weren’t aware that Mrs. Camden and Mr. Albritton are siblings, you might also not be aware of Mrs. Camden’s background in education.”

“I know she is a retired teacher,” I said. “But I have no idea what she taught.”

“Yes, she retired three years ago,” Kanesha said. “She taught high school chemistry and biology for twenty-five years before that.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Chemistry . The word resounded in my brain. If she was adept at chemistry at all, then Betty Camden would be as capable of making her own cyanide as Tammy Harville.

The suspect list now included Deirdre Thompson—still my favorite—along with Billy Albritton, Betty Camden, Jincy Bruce, and Tammy Harville. The final two on my list I considered less likely, although if Jincy had embezzled all that money, that was a strong motive. I thought the family connections that Gerry had had with the other three were far more likely to be the source for the motive to kill.

“Any hard evidence that points to one of the suspects?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Kanesha replied. “I really need to track down that brandy snifter. I don’t know how the killer managed to get it out of the house.”

“In a purse,” Melba said. “A man couldn’t have smuggled it out without a bulge under his jacket, I’d imagine. So probably a woman.”

“I’ve considered purses. The poison certainly could have been brought into the house that way, or in a pocket,” Kanesha said. “But the purses I saw when I arrived were all those small bags that women carry at parties. I didn’t notice one that would have been big enough to conceal that snifter.”

An image popped into my head. I had no idea of its source, but it sparked an idea. “When the house was searched, did you turn up any fragments of glass or crystal?”

Kanesha regarded me thoughtfully. “No, we didn’t. I thought of that, because that would have been a way to destroy the evidence and make it difficult to analyze. What are you getting at?”

“Here’s a possible scenario,” I said slowly, visualizing it as I put it into words. “The murderer, in this case a woman, picks up the snifter while everyone is staring at Gerry, collapsed on the floor. The woman, pretending to be overcome by the shock, stumbles away and takes refuge in the bathroom. She locks herself in, puts her purse and the snifter aside. Then she takes one of the hand towels set out for guests, unfolds it, and wraps the snifter in it. Then she puts it on the floor, wrapped, and stomps on it.”

“And now that it’s broken into a lot of pieces,” Melba said, excited by my idea, “she can stick it into her purse, still in the hand towel, and slip out of the house. In all the confusion, probably nobody will notice she’s gone until later.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I don’t recall seeing either Deirdre Thompson or Betty Camden after the cops arrived. Certainly they were not there when we were all shepherded into the dining room. Either one of them could have absconded with the broken snifter the way I described it. With Melba’s help.” I grinned at her.

“It could work,” Kanesha said. “And if I can get a hold of the purses they brought to the party, they can be examined for traces of the snifter and the poison.” She shook her head. “It’s a long shot, but if the evidence is there, the lab should be able to find it.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to get search warrants?” I asked.

“I believe so,” Kanesha said. “With the story Ms. Gilley heard from Mrs. Norwood, which I am going to verify with her as soon as possible, and the fact that Mr. Albritton broke in to the deceased’s house, I think I can make a pretty good case. It will depend on the mood the judge is in today.”

“Are you going to be examining anyone else’s purses?” I said.

“Yes,” Kanesha said, “along with pockets in jackets and pants, even in dresses, depending on what the suspects wore to the party. I’ve got good descriptions from several people of what the women wore, though not so much the men.”

“Good luck,” I said. “I hope you can solve this thing soon.”

“She will,” Azalea said unexpectedly, startling the rest of us. Kanesha regarded her mother with her frustratingly unreadable expression, but mother and daughter appeared to understand each other.

Kanesha rose. “Thank you both for all the information, and the idea about how the snifter could have been taken out of the house. If that is how it was done, I hope I won’t be too late in finding any remaining evidence.”

I started to rise, but Kanesha waved me back. “I can find my way out,” she said. “I’ll be in touch later.”

She headed out of the room with our further wishes for good luck following her. Azalea stared after her daughter for a good thirty seconds, her expression every bit as unreadable as Kanesha’s. The two women were so much alike, it was uncanny. I wasn’t sure they saw that, however, perhaps each thinking the other was the truly difficult, frustrating one. Azalea departed the room, and moments later I heard her heading upstairs.

I chuckled as another thought popped into my mind.

“What’s funny?” Melba asked.

“All of a sudden I thought about how things have changed since that first murder several years ago,” I said.

“You mean Godfrey Priest?” Melba said.

I nodded.

“What’s changed?” Melba asked.

“Kanesha,” I said. “In the beginning I always thought I was about to be arrested as the chief suspect. Now, even though we’re not bosom buddies, she actually seems to respect my opinion on certain things. Although,” I continued slowly, “I don’t think she’ll ever truly like me as long as Azalea works here.”

“That’s her little quirk,” Melba said. “And her mother’s. You can’t help that.”

“No, and at least now she doesn’t glower at me the whole time I’m in her presence.” I chuckled again.

“What’s that word they use?” Melba asked. “Détente?”

“Yes, that’s it. Kanesha and I have achieved détente.”

Melba suddenly changed the subject back to the murder. “Who do you think did it? I know who I think is guilty.”

I thought about it briefly before I answered. “In some ways, frankly, I don’t really care which of them did it. I don’t know any of them, really, except for Betty Camden. I don’t know her well at all. But if I had to pick one of them, I’d say Deirdre Thompson. From everything I’ve heard, she’s the most unpleasant of them all. There’s the financial motive as well, if Gerry could have been successful in getting what Mr. Halbert left her in his will.”

“I think Betty Camden did it,” Melba said. “And not because I don’t like her to begin with. She likes to pretend she’s so classy because she married Chip Camden. He’s from an old Athena family, one with class and money, unlike her. She barely managed to get through college. She had to work and get scholarships, and then she married a bum named Wally Jones.”

“What’s the point in this?” I asked, tired of waiting for her to get to the crux.

“The point is,” Melba said, glaring at me, “she’s so status-conscious it’s ridiculous. Do you think she’d want people in this town to know about the brother that her father sold to Mr. Halbert? The brother who turned himself into a sister? No siree Bob, she wouldn’t. She’s not exactly the enlightened type. I think she’d do any thing to keep that news from getting out.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said. “I’m hoping Kanesha finds the evidence soon.”