Anything Goes

booth. A sidewalk between the two ran to a steeply staired walking bridge that crossed the railroad tracks next to the river, presumably leading down to docks that weren’t visible from the green.
    Lily turned slowly, savoring the warm, slightly salty, fishy smell of the river mixed with a divine fragrance of fresh bread from a bakery she’d failed to notice earlier. The people of Voorburg were probably suffering the same financial privation the rest of the country was enduring, but were refusing to let the town look down-and-out. Only a few of the shops appeared to be permanently closed and even they were in good condition, as if merely awaiting a new tenant.
    Several well-groomed ladies were sweeping the stoops of their homes. An elderly gentleman was painting his front door. A red-faced middle-aged woman was tending her garden and waved at them cheerfully with a muddy-gloved hand.
    These were, Lily decided, proud, good people living in an old town they cared about.
    For the first time, it really came to her in full force that this was now her hometown, too. And she was glad.
     

Chapter 11
     
    As Lily and Robert explored the town further, they discovered several churches, a school and a number of other small, front-room businesses outside the town square. They got sandwiches from Mabel’s Cafe, where their presence elicited a mixed reaction. The waitress, presumably Mabel herself, was friendly but not effusive. Two ladies in the corner booth stared at them with frowns and whispers. The rest of the patrons either ignored them entirely or showed only vague curiosity about the outsiders. The food was adequate and cheap.
    They’d only half-finished their sandwiches when they spotted Mr. Prinney’s pristine, well-kept old black Ford chugging down the street. They wrapped what remained of their sandwiches in oiled butcher paper sheets Mabel supplied and hurried to catch Mr. Prinney before he could run another errand.
    The pin-curled secretary showed them into his office and he greeted them with surprise and a little alarm. “Come in. Come in. There’s nothing wrong, is there?“ They hadn’t changed their minds about sticking out the ten years, had they? He’d already grown somewhat fond of them and hated the idea of handing anything over to Claude Cooke.
    “Nothing’s wrong,“ Lily said, sitting down in one of the visitor chairs and looking straight at him. “But we need some information. About our uncle’s death.”
    Mr. Prinney burst into speech. “I should have told you sooner. I know that. But I didn’t want to alarm you.“
    “We’ve heard that he didn’t just die in the boating accident. We hear he was murdered and would like to know the truth.”
    Mr. Prinney nodded. “I’m sorry to learn that it’s common knowledge, and sorrier yet to tell you it’s almost certainly the case.“
    “Then why is it an open secret? Why hasn’t someone been arrested?“
    “Because, while there appears to be proof that it was murder, there’s no way of knowing who the perpetrator was.“
    “What proof?“ Robert said.
    Mr. Prinney looked uncomfortably at Lily. “I’d rather not say in front of Miss Brewster.“
    “Nonsense,“ Robert said. “My sister reads every mystery story she can get her hands on. She’s not going to faint dead away.“
    “Very well,“ Mr. Prinney said doubtfully. “It was the wound to the head that killed him. According to the coroner, it was an extremely heavy blow to the top of his head. If he hadn’t been rather bald, the coroner said he wouldn’t have noticed that it was from some distinct object. Not to mention that it’s almost impossible to sustain a hard blow to the top of one’s head unless one is dropped headfirst onto something.“
    “Distinct in what way?“ Lily asked.
    Mr. Prinney hesitated for a moment. “It was a perfectly round blow and compressed the skull in a concave pattern. There was nothing in the galley where he died of that shape and size.“
    “What could it have been?“ Robert asked.
    Mr. Prinney lifted his narrow shoulders. “No one knows. The police searched the wreckage thoroughly. They sent people to the island to see if anything of the sort had washed to shore and found nothing.”
    Lily nodded. “They wouldn’t have. Skulls are very hard. It would have to be a very heavy object, which was probably either thrown or swept overboard and sank.”
    Mr. Prinney looked astonished at how calmly this apparently well-bred girl was taking