Page 64 of Killer on the First Page
“Various reasons,” said Miranda with the sliver of a smile.Five little piggies went to market...One came down to slip outside (Sheryl), one in search of alcohol (Wanda), one with a strange message in hand (Penny), one still with paw prints on her buttocks (Inez). “And you?”Who will go wee-wee-wee all the way to jail?“What brings you out of your chambers, Mr. Valentine?”
“I heard the fuss and bother—the pother, as it were—came down to ask about this.” He held up a torn piece of paper of his own. “A handwritten note, slipped under my door, but just nonsense vowels:i-a-e.I-a-e.It’s like a first draft of the chorus of ‘Old MacDonald.’ Any idea what’s going on?”
I-A-E?
“The two halves,” said Miranda. “Put them together.”
They did. It spelled out:Virginia Wolfe.
“Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor!” said Miranda. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.The play that became a movie, the movie that became a critique of the American marriage. Not to drop names, but I was once asked by Sir Kenneth Branagh—Kenny, I call him—to audition for a gritty reboot of the original movie (they’d added more explosions during the car chase) in the same role Elizabeth Taylor played...”Taylor, which could also be spelled tailor... tailor, as in a stich in time saves nine... as in a cat with nine lives, as in Cat Ballou, starring Jane Fonda... who also co-starred with Elizabeth Taylor in the musical spectacle The Blue Bird with—Miranda’s mind had entered a feedback loop, was spiraling down, but she managed to pull up at the last moment. “You know, the note may have nothing to do with Elizabeth Taylor.”
As gently as she could, Penny said, “Or maybe it’s a reference to the actual author, Virginia Woolf?” She held the two halves of the note up again. “But the name has been misspelled. Should beWoolf. NotWolfewith an e.”
“Huh,” said Wanda. “Go figure. I always thought it was spelled with an e.”
“Itisspelled with an e,” said Ray Valentine. “I can picture the covers in my mind. Usually an ominous blood-spattered glass of wine that’s been toppled over, or a knife that’s been stabbed into acutting board or through a playing card, or a blood-covered bullet casing and a broken window.”
“You’re thinking of Nero Wolfe, the character,” said Penny, “rather than Virginia Woolf, literary icon.”
“Kane Hamady!” Inez cried. “He was dyslexic! He could have misspelled the name.”
“I hardly think he wrote a note to usafterhe was killed,” said Penny.
“You never know,” said Inez darkly.
“And anyway, Kane wasn’t dyslexic,” said Wanda. “That was just a joke, something he used to say, that he was a ‘dyslexic existentialist’ who pondered the existence of dog.”
Inez didn’t get it. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s humor,” said Wanda. “Something you are incapable of comprehending.”
Before Inez could lash back, with voodoo hexes and charm bracelets no doubt, Miranda cut in. “We’re losing sight of the clue.”
“Yes!” said Inez. “The clue! Clues are my forte.”
“What are you talking about?” said Wanda. “There are no clues in your novels. Just gore.”
“Says the children’s author.”
“At least my clues line up!”
“You have clues, but nosoul!” said Inez.
Penny interrupted, “Please! People, we have a mystery to solve. We’re mystery writers; this shouldn’t be that hard.”
“Says the cozy writer,” Inez muttered.
Miranda Abbott was reconsidering her list of feuds. Easier just to put “everyone vs. everyone,” she thought.
“Virginia Woolf. Ha. Never could stand her stuff,” said Wanda. “Stream of consciousness crap. No tension, no suspense, nothing ever happens. Dull as dishwater. How could that book be so short and yet feel so long?”
“Which book?” Miranda asked, and in that instant the authors realized at the same time.
“To the lighthouse!”they cried, and they rushed for the front door in a veritable stampede, scrambling for jackets and boots. Sheryl was the first one at the door.
But Officer Holly got there ahead of her and barred the way. “Get back! All of you. Don’t make me taser you!” she shouted. “Or rather, please—make me taser you. It would be a pleasure. You guys are the biggest bunch of blockheads I’ve ever had to deal with. Let me put an end to your shenanigans right now. Under the authority vested in me by the State of Oregon and the Tillamook County Police Authority, I am hereby invoking Public Safety Ordinance 771. The guests of this bed-and-breakfast are instructed to remain indoors, under direct order of a police officer, until such time as local law enforcement can ascertain whether or not the risk to public safety has passed. Ignoring this directive may lead to your detention and/or arrest. Mr. Fairfax DePoy is out there, possibly armed and potentially dangerous, and having you cretins showing up yammering away could easily push him over the edge. Lord knows, it almost did for me. Remain inside. Lock the doors and windows. Remain calm. And stay. Right. Here.”
Chastised, they fell back as Officer Holly called it in. “The lighthouse, Ned. He’s at the lighthouse.”
