Frenzy

No one, even if they’d wanted to, could have entered the vault and removed and unlocked Joel Price and Edward Tucker’s safe deposit box. Joel Price had a key. Edward Tucker had an identical key. The bank had the second key, necessary to get into any of the boxes.

Joel Price asked everyone to remain, then left the room for a few minutes and returned with Maggie the teller and Mr. Earl Tanenger, the bank manager. Tanenger was a corpulent, bald man in his sixties and took up a lot of space. They were all crowded into the little room where the boxes could be opened in private by customers. Maggie had the leather record book. She was wearing too much of her new perfume, Heaven’s Gate, that made a few people—Pearl among them—sniff and sneeze.

In front of everyone, Earl Tanenger opened the leather-bound book, stared at it, and proclaimed that no one had entered the vault and removed box 150 since October 12, 1998, when the box was rented and the register was signed by both Joel Price and Edward Tucker. Mr. Tanenger had been bank manager for almost twenty years and remembered that day well.

Said he did, anyway.

Qui

“Certainly,” Tanenger said.

They all left the room and moved toward the lobby, where Tanenger motioned them toward the conference room while he went to temporarily close the bank and summon the employees.

No one spoke. A few sniffled, still under the spell of Heaven’s Gate.

Pearl said, “I hope we can get this cleared up fast.”

Qui

Earl Tanenger returned only a few minutes later, with the teller who’d been working with Maggie behind the counter. She was a whippet-thin gray-haired woman in her fifties, who would have been perfectly cast as a severe librarian or teacher who would abide no breaking of the rules.

“This is Miss Luella Morst,” Tanenger said. “And she can explain.” He took a step to the side and motioned with his right arm. “Luella, the floor is yours.”

“Four days ago, Monday it was, Maggie was home sick with the swine flu.”

God! Pearl thought.

Luella pressed on. “Mr. Edward Tucker and another man came into the bank, and Mr. Tucker asked for his safety deposit box. I gave it to him, and he and the other man went into one of the privacy rooms. They were only in there a few minutes, then came out. I went back with Mr. Tucker, and we returned his box to the proper place, locked it, and I escorted him out, then watched both men leave. They were both very polite and businesslike.” Miss Morst flushed and for the first time seemed defensive. “I’m not used to working the deposit boxes. I did everything right, except I forgot to have Mr. Tucker sign and date the register.”

“Mistakes happen,” Earl Tanenger said, and rested a hand lightly on Luella Morst’s shoulder.

“Do you know Edward Tucker by sight?” Qui

“Yes. I’ve seen him around town for years.”

“The other man?”

“Never saw him before.”

“Do you recall what he looked like?”

“Didn’t pay much attention, tell you the truth. Average size, maybe too fat.”

“Hair?”

“Yes. Dark, I think.”

“Scars? Facial hair? Tattoos? Glasses?”

“Not glasses, I don’t think. The rest of it I don’t know. I do recall that he had a Band-Aid on his face, like he’d cut himself or got cut.”

Qui

“Did Mr. Tucker seem as if he was at ease?” Qui

“Not at all. They acted perfectly normal.”

Qui

“Human error,” he said.

“He probably wouldn’t have signed his name anyway,” Qui

“I should give her a bonus for her forgetfulness?” Tanenger said.

“Yes,” Pearl said.

“What could Edward have been doing?” Ida Tucker asked the world in general.

“Whatever it was, he might have been doing it under duress, despite what Luella Morst said.”

“He’d never do anything illegal.”

“Whatever was in that box, it belonged to him.”

“It belonged to the family,” Ida Tucker said, with more than a touch of bitterness.

They went back out on the sidewalk and crossed to the paved roundabout in front of the bank. It had gotten hotter outside. Uncomfortable.

They all said their good-byes. Qui

There were just the two of them now on the hot and dusty street, Qui

“This is what a dead end looks like,” Pearl said.

“Maybe,” Qui

“What happens now?” Pearl asked.

“Whatever it is, it’ll happen in New York.”

Only it didn’t.

Before they could get in the car, Ida Tucker came huffing up to them, forcing a grin.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, “not inviting you to come to the house afterward and have some lemonade.”

“Really,” Pearl said, “that’s very kind of you but it isn’t necessary.”

The grin widened. She’d been pushing herself, Qui

“I’m thirsty,” Qui

“There’s an offer I’ll accept,” Ida said, “since you so graciously accepted mine.”

Gracious. Yes, that was the game they were playing.

49

Everything in the Tucker house hit the correct note—the flowers, the cards and letters of condolences. Everything but a black wreathe on the front door. Or had he missed it?

Qui

Would Ida or her late husband be the sort to write critical Amazon reviews or send taunting e-mails to the writers?

They didn’t seem the type, but mightn’t that be camouflage?

Pearl must have had some idea of what he was thinking, and disagreed. She gave him a look and a shake of her head. Her meaning was unmistakable: Let’s get out of here.

But Qui