The Dead Don't Get Out Much. Mary Jane Maffini
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medical observation.”
“I understand. Trust me, if you want the police to do something, you have to use whatever turns their crank. Dementia or Alzheimer's is a hot button for the media. They'll put out a bulletin. People will watch for her. Someone will spot her and call in.”
“She doesn't have dementia. The doctor said she was…”
“Don't quote the doctor when you're talking to the cops.”
“I get your point, but if Mrs. P. heard that, she'd have a fit. When there was a false bulletin out for me, I was really pissed off. And frankly nervous too.”
Ray chuckled. “I heard you did some crazy things. Now you're asking for advice, and I'm giving it. If you play the dementia card, mention medication needed and inadequate clothing for weather conditions. That'll ratchet up interest.”
“Maybe we can just allude to it. Say fears for her safety, that kind of thing. At the very least, they'll track the vehicle.” I had a flash vision of Mrs. Parnell giving the cops a run for their money in a high-speed chase. I bet her Volvo could outrun those Crown Vics.
The next step seemed obvious, if unpleasant. Unfortunately, as a rule, your previous relationships with the police can have a big effect on how they treat you later on. I was all too aware of this. I got voicemail hell on the police line for routine enquiries. I struck out with 911.
I saw no choice. I picked up the phone and dialled Conn's cellphone. Luckily, I knew exactly where Conn was. I asked him to make the appropriate contact at Headquarters. I said I was sorry if I was interrupting whatever he was doing at the time and requested that he not indicate I was the one calling during the family dinner. I made a point of mentioning that his own wife had introduced this dementia worry, and if he had a problem with it, he should take it up with Alexa later. Like that would happen.
* * *
Alvin stomped through the door, shook his wet ponytail and slumped on Mrs. P.'s black leather sofa.
“Still nothing,” I said before he could ask.
“I went by your place like you asked and fed and walked Gussie.”
“Thanks, Alvin. I appreciate it.”
“I fed the cat too. You think we should bring them over here?”
I glanced at Lester and Pierre. “Bad idea.”
“I thought you said that if the police put out a bulletin about Violet, that someone would call in.”
“Ray thought if we claimed dementia, that might speed things up. No guarantees.”
“Someone should have seen her.”
“This is Mrs. Parnell. She probably doesn't want to be seen. Maybe she's wearing a hat or something.”
“They had the license plate number of the Volvo.”
“Alvin, I'm getting a headache. Let's find something to do here instead of fretting.”
“There's nothing to do. We've already searched the place twice.”
“Let's search it again. Maybe instead of looking for something, we should concentrate more on what isn't here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what did she take with her. We think she took the two small red suitcases, and we know she left her uniform. We should have thought of this before.”
“We're rattled, Camilla,” Alvin said. He certainly looked rattled. The ponytail was damp and bedraggled, the earrings drooped, and he slouched, paler than dust.
“Agreed. And we have a right to be. Now, let's get moving. Her walker's here.”
“What do you think that means?”
“I don't know what it means. Where is her cane?”
Alvin zipped from room to room. “Nowhere,” he said. “It's gone. She's got two of them, and they're both gone.”
“So, maybe she was going somewhere where the walker wouldn't be necessary.”
“Or maybe it wouldn't be convenient. Or it might be too noticeable.”
“Like where, Alvin?”
“I don't know. A bus?”
“Why would she take a bus? She has the car. Okay. We need some kind of focus. Let's assume she's not just randomly driving around to clear her head. Why would she go anywhere in the first place?”
“And not to tell us where she was going, that's not like Violet.”
“You're right, it isn't. So either she's behaving irrationally, or she had a plan we don't know about and chose not to involve us.”
“I hate both those options,” Alvin said.
“Me too, but I think we have to face facts.”
“What if someone took her away?”
I felt a headache coming on. “We have no reason to believe that someone took her. Do you really think that Mrs. P. would just go off with someone without putting up a fight?”
“She wouldn't.”
“That's right. Now look around you.”
Alvin narrowed his eyes and scanned the room.
“Do you see any signs of a fight?”
“I see mess. Remember we thought it was a burglar?”
“No signs of a struggle, right? No chairs knocked over, no stuff broken, no phone off the hook? This is Mrs. P. She wouldn't go quietly.”
“Maybe he had a gun.”
“All right, before we explore the gun theory, let's work through the other much more likely reasons. First, that she was not thinking normally. What evidence do we have of that?”
“Just the conversation with the dead guy.”
“Exactly.”
“Your sister said that probably means dementia. That's got me all nerved up.”
“We were with Mrs. Parnell. She was upset, not demented.”
“Yeah, but she was troubled.”
“Deeply disturbed. Definitely rational, as usual.”
Alvin seemed to take some comfort in this.
I said, “So let's assume that she is her normal self, even if upset enough to give us the slip in the hospital. If she's gone somewhere under her own steam, the question is, why would she leave here in such a hurry?”
“To find something out? Information.”
“She's a whiz on that computer. She can surf the net as well as you can, and she's way better than me. I think if she just wanted information, she'd do it here on her own.”
Alvin furrowed his brow. “True, I guess.”
“She took suitcases, Alvin. Kidnappers wouldn't take suitcases. I think she's headed out of town, under her own steam and with some kind of plan we aren't privy to.”
Alvin dragged himself into the bedroom and stared at the large, red unzipped suitcase in the middle of the floor. I followed.
Alvin said, “Maybe she had something hidden in the suitcases. Maybe that's what the burglar was looking for. Or the kidnappers. Although it doesn't look like it had anything in it.”
I agreed, although to be fair, we were grasping at straws here.
He said, “It's hard to know what's missing if you don't know what was there in the first place. I have no idea what Violet kept in her suitcases.”
“Me neither. You raise a good point, Alvin. Something is missing. Something's not quite right. Look around.