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“Who? Maria Power?” Jack laughed a deprecating laugh. “Oh, no. Maria never leaves the house these days. Lives like a regular recluse. Of course we invited her, but she didn’t even deign us with a response.”

“Pity,” said Charlene. “It would have been nice if she’d come.”

“Yeah, it would really have put this retrospective on the map,” Jack agreed.

“Too bad.”

“Say, I thought you arrested Dan for murder?” asked Jack, taking the Chief aside for a moment while the Mayor socialized. “Imagine my surprise when he popped up just now.”

“Had to let him go,” grunted the Chief. “Lack of evidence.”

“You know, I think I might be able to help you with that,” said the man.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I can’t talk now, obviously. But why don’t you drop by my office tomorrow—you know where I work, right? So let’s talk and do lunch. I think I’ll be able to give your investigation into the dirty deeds of Dan Goory a nice big push in the right direction.” And with a wink, he left Alec staring after him.

A nice big push in the right direction was exactly what the investigation needed. And for the rest of the evening, even as Maria Power did her best to ensnare his attention from up there on the silver screen, acting not in one but no less than two of her most praised movies, all Alec could think about were Jack Warner’s words of promise.

Chapter 17

Ted Trapper stared miserably out of the kitchen window into his backyard, which now contained not three dozen but two dozen gnomes, after Tex Poole’s raid.

“I don’t get it,” he said for the umpteenth time. “How did Tex’s gnomes end up in our yard? It’s a mystery. A regular mystery.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t take them?” asked Marcie. She knew her husband, and how passionate about his hobby he could be. She wouldn’t put it past him to head into their next-door-neighbors’ backyard and abscond with a few gnomes, figuring Tex would never know.

But her husband turned to her with big, mournful eyes.“Not you, too,” he said in a low voice. “You think I stole them, don’t you?”

“Well, they ended up here, didn’t they?”

“I didn’t take them!” he exclaimed. “I would never steal Tex’s gnomes. I’m not a thief.”

“Then how did they end up here?”

“I don’t know!” he said, throwing up his arms.

“Maybe we should talk to Marge.”

He gave her a hopeful look.“You think Marge is behind this? Maybe to spite her husband?”

Marcie gave her husband a curious look.“No, of course I don’t think Marge is behind this. But she can talk to her husband, and maybe we can put this whole thing behind us.”

She hated to have this gnome thing hanging over them like a pall. She and Marge had always enjoyed a good relationship. She helped Marge out at the library from time to time, and Tex and Ted had been friends for years. She’d hate for a dozen ridiculous gnomes to put an end to all of that. She’d already vowed to talk to Marge herself, and maybe find a way to resolve this thing—neighbor to neighbor.

“Maybe it’s those damn kids,” Ted said, resuming his stance in front of the kitchen window and looking out into the backyard.

“What kids?”

He turned.“Didn’t I tell you? I got into some kind of fracas with a couple of punks the other day. They were spray-painting old Mrs. Lather’s house with graffiti and so I told them to stop. Instead they started yelling at me and calling me names. So I told them I’d call the police and when they kicked the car and threw a can of paint at my face I did.”

“And you think they’re adding to your collection of gnomes to get back at you?” She didn’t hide the skepticism in her voice. It seemed like a strange thing to do.

Her husband shrugged.“It’s the only explanation I can come up with.”

“Tomorrow we’re sitting down with Marge and Tex and we’re going to talk this thing through like grown-ups,” she said with a finality that made Ted look up. “This is just too silly,” she said, and walked into the living room. Her favorite show was about to start and she wasn’t going tomiss it over a couple of lousy gnomes.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Vesta and Scarlett were both ensconced in Vesta’s car—actually her daughter’s old red Peugeot that she liked to ‘borrow’ whenever it suited her. Vesta had parked the car in front of Kinnard Daym’s house, right around the corner from Harrington Street. Night had fallen, and the street was deserted, but they were both fully awake and vigilant—like true neighborhood watch members should be!

“How much longer?” asked Scarlett, yawning cavernously.

“Shouldn’t be much longer, I think,” said Vesta, who was feeling the strain. It was all well and good to start a neighborhood watch, but these all-night vigils were not really her cup of tea.

“Please tell me again why you picked this place to stake out?”

“Because Kinnard is the town’s most avid gnome collector, and if some gang is targeting gnomes this is the place where they’ll strike next.”