Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 10 Who Talked to Ghosts

"Wal, now, the truth were..." Adam took a sip of water, which went down the wrong throat, and the coughing resumed so violently that Qwilleran feared the old man would choke. He called for help, and a nurse and two canaries rushed to his aid.

When it was over and Adam was calm enough to leer at the nurse, Qwilleran thanked the staffers and bowed them out of the room. Then he repeated his question. "Where was Ephraim's body?"

Cackling a laugh that was almost a yodel, the mortician said, "Ephraim wam't dead!"

Qwilleran stared at the old man in the wheelchair. There was a possibility that he might be senile, yet the rest of his conversation had been plausible - that is, plausible by Moose County's contrary standards. "How do you explain that bit of deception?" he asked.

"Wal, now, Ephraim knowed folks hated his guts and they was hell-bent on revenge, so he fooled 'em. He sailed off to Yerp. Went to Switzerland. Used another name. Let folks think he were dead." Adam started to cackle.

Qwilleran handed him the glass of water in anticipation of another attack of convulsive mirth. "Take a sip, Mr. Dingleberry. Be careful how you swallow... What about the rest of the Goodwinter family?"

"Wal, now, Ephraim's wife moved back east - that were the story they told - but she followed him to Yerp. In them days folks could disappear without no fuss. Damn gover'ment warn't buttin' in all the time. Way it turned out, though, the joke were on Ephraim. When he writ that suicide note, he never knowed his enemies would take credit for lynchin' him!"

"What about his sons?"

"Titus and Samson, the two of 'em lived in the farmhouse and run the business - run it into the ground mostly."

His voice soared into a falsetto and ended with a shriek of hilarity.

"If your father participated in this hoax, I hope he was amply rewarded."

"Two thousand dollars," said Adam. "That were big money in them days - mighty big! And five hun'erd every quarter, so long as Paw kep' his lip buttoned. Paw were a religious man, and he wouldn'ta done it but he were in debt to Ephraim's bank. He were afraid of losin' his store."

"How long did the quarterly payments continue?"

"Till Ephraim kicked the bucket in 1935. Paw always told me it were an investment he made, payin' off. He were on his deathbed when he told the truth and warned me not to tell. He said folks would be madder'n hell and might burn down the furniture store for makin' fools of 'em."

Adam's chin sank on his chest. The half hour was almost up.

"That's a thought-provoking story with interesting ramifications," Qwilleran said. "Thank you for taking me into your confidence."

The old man showed another spurt of energy. "There were somethin' else on Paw's conscience. He buried the Goodwinters' hired man, and they paid for the funeral - paid plenty, considerin' it were a plain coffin."

Qwilleran was instantly alerted. "What was the hired man's name?"

"I forget now."

"Luther Bosworth? Thirty years old? Left a wife and four kids?"

"That's him!"

"What happened to Luther?"

"One o' the Goodwinter horses went berserk. Trampled him to death - so bad they had a closed coffin."

"When did this happen?"

"Right after Ephraim left. Titus said he shot the horse."

There was a tap on the door, and the canary opened it an inch or two. "Visiting time almost up, sir."

"Don't let her in," Adam said.

Qwilleran called out, "One more minute, please." The door closed, and he said to Adam, "Do you know why the Goodwinters paid extra for the funeral."

Adam wiped his mouth. "It were hush money. Paw wouldn'ta took it if he warn't beholden to the bank. Paw were a religious man."

"I'm sure he was! But what were the Goodwinters trying to hush up?"

Adam wiped his mouth again. "Wal, Titus said the man were trampled to death, but when Paw picked up the body. there were only a bullethole in the head."

There was another tap on the door. The old man's chin sank on his chest again, but he revived enough to make a swipe at the skirt of the canary when she came in to wheel him to his room.

Driving back to North Middle Hummock Qwilleran was thinking, Mitch Ogilvie was right on one point: Old Adam knew a thing or two. The story of the double hoax was plotted with enough dovetailing details to make it convincing - in Moose County, at any rate, where the incredible is believable... And yet, was it really true? Adam Dingleberry had a reputation as a practical joker. Telling a cock-and-bull story about Ephraim could be his final joke on the whole county. Telling it to the media would be a virtual guarantee that it would be leaked. What headlines it would make! GOODWINTER HANGING A HOAX! MINE OWNER DIED ABROAD IN 1935! The wire services would pick it up, and Qwilleran's byline would once more be flashed nationwide.