Poisoned Pins

There was a distinct sniffle, then the voice said, “You tell her that my dad’s a lawyer, and he says what she’s doing is blackmail or extortion or something like that, and she’ll be in really big trouble if she keeps this up.”

“Who is this? What are you talking about?”

“Just give her the message.”

I couldn’t persuade my hand to record a single word of the alarming conversation with the latest anonymous caller My telephone was becoming a veritable pipeline that spewed out threats and dire warnings. I went to Caron’s room and shook her shoulder, but all I received in response to my questions was a grumpy, mumbled admonishment to leave her alone. Her co-conspirator kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and although I suspected she was emulating an arboreal American marsupial (more specifically, a Thdelphis virginiana), I returned to the kitchen, gulped down an aspirin with a mouthful of tepid tea, and left them to be dragged away to a juvenile detention facility by someone with more persistence than I.

Once at the Book Depot, I took out a piece of paper and amused myself making yet more notes of noticeably little help. I made one list of potential blackmailers, grimly adding Caron Malloy, and a second of potential blackmailees. Everyone who qualified for neither list went into a jumble at the bottom of the page, and I was trying to devise categories for them when the door opened.

For her morning outing, Eleanor Vanderson had chosen a robin’s-egg-blue seersucker suit with a crisp white blouse. Her accessories included a white belt and pumps, a swirly blue-and-purple scarf draped artfully around her neck, a slender silver watch, and a white straw purse. Clearly, she was in harmony with her palette and destined for chicken salad and bridge. Others of us, having chosen frayed denim shorts and one of Caron’s old gym-class T-shirts, accessorized with a cheap watch and a tarnished wedding ring, also cheap, felt destined for nothing more dainty than a hamburger and a diet soda. However burdened as I was with the knowledge of her husband’s dirty little secrets, I deserved no better.

“Oh, Claire,” she said as she came to the counter and squeezed my hand, “you must be ready to bulldoze down the sorority house-and I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you’d already arranged it. It’s been one nightmare after another for you, hasn’t it? The screams, the purported prowlers, that dreadful accident in the alley, that pledge pestering you with her calls, and now this incident last night!”

I eased my hand out of reach and folded my arms to cover my incriminating lists (which, regrettably, incriminated only me). “It’s not been an auspicious begi

She must have sensed that I was not a sane woman, in that she retreated a few steps and gazed thoughtfully at the store. “This is so charming, Claire. I can’t think why I’ve never been here before, but I certainly will make a point of coming by in the future. I love the way you’ve arranged all this to create a warm, cozy feeling.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” she continued, “but it’s very painful for me and I’m hoping we might find a place with complete privacy, a place where we won’t be disturbed.”

“This may be it. No one has set foot in here all morning, and I have no reason to believe anyone will in the foreseeable future.”

“I’m so sorry to hear business is slow, but surely things will pick up before too long. Would it be inconvenient if we sat in your office?” She gave me the look of a poster child from a Third World country.

I led her to the office, took a dozen books off the chair and dumped them in a corner, squinted unhappily at the blackened crust in the coffee pot, and finally settled behind the desk to regard her over a stack of invoices, a cup filled with stubby pencils, several self-help books on the gentle art of organization, and a scattering of dried roaches.

“This is so difficult.” Eleanor took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed the corner of her eye. “After the party ended last night, I asked John what you two had been discussing out by the pool. Initially, he refused to tell me, but I persisted, and this morning, while I was driving him to the airport, he finally related the gist of it. Oh, Claire, I can imagine how you must have felt as he told you those… repulsive stories, but surely you realize what they were.”

“Surely,” I said obediently, if also blankly.

“I suggested he cancel his trip to Las Vegas, but he became so upset that I reluctantly kissed him goodbye and let him go. I’ve already spoken to his physician, and the very first thing we’ll do when John returns is schedule a complete evaluation of his medication.” She dabbed the other eye, then gave me a brave, quivery smile. “I’m so glad you understand, Claire. These last few years have been a living hell for me, and sometimes I wonder if that’s why I’ve immersed myself in the sorority. My grandmother never tired of reminding me that the best cure for personal troubles is a worthwhile charity in need of a chairperson.”

“You’re saying that what he told me…

“Is nothing more than a pathetic fantasy. John is a brilliant scholar and has published hundreds of articles in the most prestigious journals across the country. He successfully argued in front of the United States Supreme Court on two occasions. There’s a rumor afoot that the new wing of the law building will be named after him.” She paused to allow me the opportunity to gasp in awe, but I managed to restrain myself. “Five years ago he began to develop a few mild eccentricities-nothing too bizarre at first, but later they became more obvious. I eventually took him to the medical complex in Houston, which diagnosed a degenerative neurological disease that impairs him both physically and mentally. He functions well most of the time, but every now and then he does or says something that has absolutely no basis in reality.”

I considered this for a moment. “He sounded perfectly normal when he told me about his assignations at a motel. I didn’t demand details, naturally, but he seemed to have a vivid memory of… what took place and with whom.”

“He sounded perfectly normal when he explained to our daughter that he’d joined a convent and henceforth was to be called Sister Beatrice.” She shook her head and sighed. “Thus far, we’ve been lucky that these episodes have been isolated and have occurred outside the university community. But to tell a virtual stranger that he… Well, it’s clear he’ll have to submit his resignation as soon as he returns home.

Trying not to envision Dean Vanderson in a fetching black habit, I said, “Then he had no assignations with sorority girls at the Hideaway Haven and Jean Hall was not blackmailing him?”

“Oh, Claire, I knew you’d understand!” Eleanor replaced the handkerchief in her purse and once again rewarded me with a dose of sisterly sympathy. “You’ll be relieved to learn that I’ve decided to close the Kappa house for the remainder of the summer. Winkle, Rebecca, and Pippa have been told that they must be out by six o’clock today, and they were looking at the classified ads and calling various apartment complexes when I left. It will be inconvenient for me to drop by every day to supervise the remodeling, but I’ll just have to do it.”