Anything Goes

pleased, but surprised.
    Mr. Prinney said, “Of course they’ll be here. They’re both eager to meet you and Robert and try to rope you into dealing with them as Horatio once did. Winningham’s bank has failed and, amazingly, he’s got a new job at another. He needs desperately to bring in your cash. Same with Fred Eggers. Potential stock investors aren’t thick on the ground anymore like they were in his heyday.”
    Chief Henderson was told by Mr. Prinney only that it would be to his advantage to remain until the end of the party.
    “Why’s that?“ he asked belligerently.
    “You might learn something interesting. Bring your deputy along, but leave him in the kitchen.”
    “You know who murdered those folks, don’t you? And you’re withholding the information from the lawful authority—namely me!“
    “No, no!“ Mr. Prinney said with enormous affability. “We just have a suggestion you might want to investigate.”
    Jack Summer dropped by on his bicycle, the chain of which was still slipping badly. “I’m looking into a motorcycle like my cousin Ralph has. With a sidecar. Now that I’ve got the salary to afford one,“ he told Robert. “And I’m glad to come to the party. I need a good meal and I hear Mrs. Prinney is a fine cook. Am I supposed to bring a present?“
    “Good Lord, no!“ Robert exclaimed, dreading what sort of present Jack might think was appropriate.
    Dr. Polhemus, the young, square-set Dutch doctor who had been at the house the night Billy died, sent a short note saying he’d be there, provided Mrs. Parker down the road wasn’t having her sixth baby that night or old man Yaron wasn’t having another of his spells.
    Claude, who was still staying with the Winslows, stopped by to say he supposed he’d attend the party unless something more important came up in the meantime. Sometimes, however, he pontificated, important business matters came up rather quickly. Lily, knowing that he had very few business matters left to attend to, unless it was an urgent need to borrow money, didn’t worry that he wouldn’t show up.
    The only person who turned down the invitation, but graciously, was Mr. Kessler. Mr. Prinney went to see him immediately.
    “Prinney, I’ve got a job to do. This art gallery fellow wants a dozen figures by next week and I’ve only got nine I think are really good enough.“
    “And who, may I remind you, got you this job?“ Mr. Prinney said, laying on a thick layer of shame. “Oh, I guess you’re right. Thoughtless of me. I’ll come.“
    “And you’ll stay to the end of the party,“ Prinney said. “You can carve over a newspaper to catch the shavings.”
    At dawn Thursday morning, Mrs. Prinney went into a cooking frenzy. She’d even gone so far as to hire another girl from the village to help her and Mimi. Lily, Robert and Mr. Prinney woke to the sound of pans and crockery being crashed around. The dinner was to be extensive and set out as a buffet.
    There was a huge ham with her secret glaze and an elaborate pattern of cloves on the surface, a turkey breast with stuffing and a gravy so thick you could stand a fork in it, stewed currants, stuffed potatoes, green beans with onions and bits of the ham. There were three pies—raspberry, banana and chocolate cream—and an unpronounceable Dutch pastry that had so many stages of preparation that Mrs. Prinney had started it the day before.
    Lily offered to help and was sent to a storage room she’d never known about until that day to get down the crystal stemware, antique china and Miss Flora’s silver service to clean. Mimi, instead of being underfoot in the kitchen, was assigned to open two more of the many bedrooms to air, clean and polish up for the New York overnight guests. Nobody mentioned to them that one of the guests might not be staying the night.
    Agatha abandoned Lily to lurk in the kitchen in the hope of scraps. She got her foot stepped on twice, but stuck the course. Mrs. Prinney was too efficient a cook to drop much of anything on the floor, but too kind a woman not to share a few little scraps with the dog.
    Robert and Mr. Prinney simply disappeared from the chaos. They never admitted to where they’d gone, but from the smell of them when they returned from lunch in town, Lily suspected that they’d spent the early afternoon in the openly secret back room at Mabel’s Cafe. In spite of the peppermint overlay, she could smell the scotch on their breaths.
    Mr. Winningham and Mr. Eggers