Jill Churchill - Silence of the Hams

“—and S knew all about it and was threatening to tell M, who feared that K would hear about it and All Would Be Revealed!" Shelley finished. "I like it, Jane. Mel, we've solved it. You can probably still make your arrest this evening if you hurry.”

Mel stared at them and then spoke very slowly and deliberately. "I thank all that is holy that you two didn't go into law enforcement.”

2 1

Jane couldn't sleep, which was a rare affliction for her. She claimed, only half joking, that anywhere that you could throw down a blanket and wad of something soft resembling a pillow was a good enough bed. She prided herself on being a champion sleeper, so on the rare occasions when she had insomnia, it made her furious. And that, naturally, made it worse.

She'd gone to bed not long after Shelley and Mel left and spent a luxurious hour finishing the Dorothy Sayers book she'd been reading in ten-minute bits since the week before. The rain had stopped, so she opened her bedroom window, turned out the light, and snuggled down to enjoy the cool air and, with any luck at all, dream about Lord Peter.

She was still flouncing around, trying out various comfortable positions, and waiting for sleep, when she heard Mike come in. She thought about calling good night to him in the hopes that he might feel like a chat, but rejected the idea. He'd think she'd waited up for him on purpose. Finally she nodded off, only to be awakened again at four-thirty when Max, who had positioned himself in the open bedroom window, saw a creature in the yard and gave a low, eerie growl.

Jane gave up.

She closed the window — it had gotten downright chilly — threw some sweats on over her nightgown, and decided she'd go downstairs and find another book to read. While she was at it, she'd get some laundry started while nobody was awake to complain about the washing machine interfering with showering. She gathered up an armload of dark clothes and crept quietly downstairs.

Max and Meow thought the whole thing was great. Night was their favorite time and there was so seldom anyone awake to enjoy it with them. They lashed themselves against her legs and made chirruping is-it-breakfast-time? noises. Jane dumped the dirty clothes by the basement door and opened a can of cat food, then picked the clothes up again and went down to throw them in the wash. She considered booting up the computer and playing a little solitaire while she was down there, but it was cold and vaguely clammy in the basement, and besides, she didn't want to think.

When she came back up, she got a glass of milk and sat down at the kitchen table. The room was a mess. She hadn't even loaded up the dishwasher after dinner, and the empty but crusty macaroni pan was still soaking in the sink. She'd at least scrub it out and get the nasty plates out of sight. Then she could really clean the kitchen in the morning.

But one thing led to another. Once she got the plates, glasses, and silverware off the counter and out of the sink, it was silly not to go ahead. She worked her way along the counter, tidying up. At the wall, where the phone was, there were a couple scraps of paper with phone numbers, which she tacked onto the little bulletin board. There was also a paper sack. She glanced into it and remembered that it was the trash sack from Mike's car that she'd tossed there when she came home the night before.

Jane headed for the wastebasket, then thought better of it. Shelley had said it was trash, but it might not all be. If Mike had some car gadget in the sack and she pitched it, she'd be in trouble. She threw away the items in it one by one. Gum wrappers, a wadded-up empty cigarette pack, a couple of receipts from the deli, a yellowed newspaper clipping Jane had thrown away the clipping before she realized there was a familiar name on it.

She pulled it back out, set it on the counter, and read it.

Then read it again.

"Mel, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" she asked.

His voice over the phone was blurry and irritable. "Janey, it's seven in the morning. Of course you woke me up!"

“You got off lucky. I've been waiting to call for two hours."

“What's wrong?"

“Nothing's wrong, but I think I've got the solution. I've been thinking about it for hours and it all fits. There was a clipping — well, I won't explain it now, but can you come over?"

“Now?"

“Not right now. I guess there's not that much of a rush, but there are things you're going to need to check on."

“I'll be there by eight.”

Despite her lack of sleep, Jane was wide awake. She ran down to the basement to throw the laundry into the dryer, thinking that by the time she'd showered, her jeans would be dry. As she came back up this time, she noticed a spot of color on the floor at the top of the steps. She picked up the little blue lozenge of paper that must have fallen out of her jeans pocket.

Nodding, she picked it up and said aloud,"Yes! Yes, it was a green one that I saw. And that fits, too.”

Mel arrived at eight, just as Shelley had gone out to pick up her newspaper. She flung the paper in her kitchen door and followed him to Jane's.

“What's going on?" Shelley demanded when Jane ushered them in.

“I've got it," Jane said. "It was in that trash sack in Mike's car. Look!" She showed them the clipping on the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry. I touched it, but when I realized what it was I didn't touch it again. There might be fingerprints.”

Mel and Shelley leaned over together and read. Then Mel said, "Jane, is Mike up yet?"

“He'll be down in a minute. I woke him when I saw you drive up.”

Shelley was still studying the clipping. "But Jane, this must mean—"

“I'm afraid it does.”

Mike staggered into the kitchen, rumpled and grouchy. "Mom, what in the world — oh, Mel. Mrs. Nowack."

“Mike, I need to ask you about the trash sack that was in your car," Mel said.

“Trash? Oh, yeah. What about it?"

“Where did you pick it up and when?"

“At the deli," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Saturday morning, I think. Yeah, Saturday when I went in to work. There was junk peo‑ ple had dropped along the sidewalk and I had the paper bag in my car from buying some batteries, so I just picked up some of the junk."

“The front sidewalk?" Mel asked. "Did anyone see you doing that?"

“I don't know. It was no big deal."

“Mike, look at this newspaper clipping, but don't touch it," Mel said. "Is this part of what you picked up?”

Mike glanced at it. "I guess so. I'm sorry, but it was just trash. I didn't really look at it, I just picked it up and put it in the bag."

“Thanks, Mike. Go back to bed," Mel said as he picked the clipping up with tweezers and carefully put it in a plastic bag.

“What now?" Jane asked.

“Now you two keep very quiet and let me get to work. I'll call you later," Mel said. "For God's sake, don't talk to anybody about this. No more snooping! Understand?”

When he'd gone, Jane suddenly felt exhausted. Her frenzied, largely sleepless night suddenly caught up with her.

“What's wrong?" Shelley asked as Jane sat down at the kitchen table.

“I was up half the night. I fried my brain thinking about this."

“Then go back to bed. There's nothing more we can — or should — do."

“Don't you want to know—"

“Sure, but I think I see the general outline.I'll come back and blast you out at noon if I haven't heard from you sooner.”

Jane dragged herself upstairs and fell, still dressed, into bed. She woke up again in what seemed like a couple minutes, but was actually nearly four hours. She was sitting on the patio drinking a cola and smoking a cigarette when Shelley found her. "I take it you haven't heard from Mel yet?" Shelley asked.

“Not a peep."

“I have a dental appointment in a few minutes, then I have to go to the library. Say about two-thirty? Want to go along?”