A Puzzle in a Pear Tree by Parnell Hall Page B

balcony. “Is she dead? Is Becky really dead?”
    “Not so you could notice,” Becky Baldwin said.
    Rupert Winston’s face ran a gamut of emotions that could have served for an actor’s audition piece. “Thank God!” he exclaimed. “It seemed too awful to be true, and yet! . . . And yet! . . . Thank God you’re safe!” The hollow smile on his face froze as realization dawned. The reaction was so hammy Cora couldn’t tell if he really was surprised, or was simply emoting. “Then what’s
wrong
?”
    “One of the other girls is dead,” Cora informed him.
    “Oh, how awful!” he cried, though it obviously wasn’t nearly as awful as if it had been Becky Baldwin. “Who is it?”
    Maxine Doddsworth flung herself into the director’s arms. “It’s Dorrie, Mr. Winston! Dorrie’s dead!”
    “Oh, my God!” Rupert pried himself from her clutches, held her at arm’s length. “Are you sure, Maxine? Are you sure it’s her?”
    “It’s her,” Chief Harper said. “We have a positive ID. Did you know the girl?”
    “She was in my play.”
    Cora Felton frowned. “Really? What was she?”
    “Oh, no,” Rupert said. “Not the Christmas pageant. The high school play. Dorrie was in
The Seagull.
”
    “So, she was an actress,” Cora mused. “Interesting.”
    Aaron Grant pushed his way through the crowd. “What’s interesting? What have we got? Murder?”
    Chief Harper snorted in disgust. “This is getting out of hand. I’d like to remind you that all we’ve got at the present time is a potentially suspicious death. Until we know different, there’s nothing to report.”
    “What isn’t there to report on?” Aaron persisted.
    Sherry grabbed him by the arm. “It’s all right, Aaron. I’ll fill you in.”
    Aaron turned at the sound of her voice, then stared. “Why are you a cop? I thought you were a virgin.”
    “Oh, right. I gotta get these clothes back to Dan Finley.”
    “Yes, you do,” Chief Harper said. “And then send him out here to clear the street. There’s nothing more to see, and there’s nothing to report. You got that, Aaron? Let’s have no irresponsible journalism here. It’s almost Christmas. This is no time for another media circus.” Bakerhaven had had its share of media circuses since Cora Felton moved to town.
    “If it’s a natural death, I’ll play it down,” Aaron said.
    “See that you do.”
    As Sherry and Aaron hurried off in the direction of town hall, Sam Brogan detached himself from the crowd and ambled over.
    “What’s up, Sam?” Chief Harper asked.
    “Dan Finley’s riding herd on the witnesses. He’ll be glad to get his coat back.” Sam jerked his thumb. “Is that Maxine Doddsworth over there?”
    “Yeah, why?”
    “She’s the last one. Been roundin’ up anyone who was in that stable thing the same time as the victim. All kids, ’cept for Miss Carter.”
    “Anyone see anything?”
    “ ’Course not. Ask ’em yourself if you want, they’re all in town hall. Best bet is the boyfriend. He was holdin’ her when she took the plunge.”
    “Could you keep it down?” Chief Harper warned. “Miss Doddsworth was Dorrie Taggart’s best friend.”
    “So I understand. Dorrie relieved her, which puts Maxine right in the soup. Same as Miss Carter.”
    “Excuse
me
,” Cora Felton warned.
    Sam Brogan shrugged. “I don’t make the facts, I just report ’em.” He flipped open his notebook. “Then there’s Alfred Adams.”
    “Who’s that?” Harper asked.
    “He’s the Joseph Dorrie’s boyfriend relieved.”
    “Why’s he important?”
    “According to the schedule, the Marys change shifts on the hour, the Josephs at a quarter past. So Alfred Adams comes on at ten-fifteen, leaves at eleven-fifteen. He’s in place at eleven o’clock when Dorrie relieves her friend Maxine. He’s there for the first fifteen minutes the decedent plays Mary, until he’s relieved by the boyfriend, Lance Ridgewood.”
    “And he saw . . . ?”
    “Nothing, natch.