Bell, Book, and Scandal

hope all of you have enjoyed this conference as much as we have.“ She went on to call on all the committee heads to stand up and be introduced and applauded. Then she introduced herself and the rest of the people at the head table.
    “These are our judges in the various categories of costumes. Now line up in like groups, you clever impostors,“ she instructed cheerfully.
    While those who were in costumes straggled into line on the right side of the head table, the speaker went on, “We have no real rules, understand. It’s all personal opinion. In each group of the same characters, whoever we vote the best representation will win a twenty-dollar gift certificate to next year’s conference. Those who are in a category by themselves will receive a five-dollar gift certificate to be redeemed by one of the wonderful bookstore owners who served us all so well over the last few days.“
    The parade began with the butlers walking one at a time before the judges. Some bowed. Some said, in fake British accents, “Would master like a glass of port?“ They were all hams.
    Next were the maids, then the Poirots, the Miss Marples, the three Conan Doyles, the Sherlocks, the whole group of Baker Street Irregulars, and the assorted miscellaneous imitations who explained whom they represented. Corwin wasn’t anywhere in the lineup, Jane noticed. She glanced around and saw him at the drinks table pouring a soft drink, then winding his way to the table where Sophie sat in solitary splendor. She looked unusually grumpy.
     

Twenty-nine
     
    “Let’s just sit here for a bit and finish our coffee,“ Jane said. “The elevators will be mobbed.“
    She turned slightly to make sure Sophie was doing the same thing. Corwin had tossed his Frankenstein face in the trash and discarded the oversized paper coat he’d worn. He was changing his shoes when Sophie spoke to him harshly. Jane couldn’t hear the words. Sophie’s expression told her.
    As Corwin rose, Jane said, “I’ve changed my mind. This coffee is cold and icky. Let’s go.“
    Shelley raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why are you so fidgety?“
    “I’ve had another Frederic Remington moment. The little bell that kept dinging in the back of my head finally spit it out. Come on. We want to be on the right elevator.“
    Shelley sighed and took a last sip of her coffee and followed Jane. As they crossed the lobby briskly, Shelley said, “Tell me what this is about.“
    “No time. And I don’t want to rehearse it.“
    They forced themselves into a crowded elevator and stepped out on their floor. Jane dawdled, pretending to be searching her purse for the room key. Then she suddenly said, “I found it,“ holding up the key. Shelley showed her that she’d had her own key in her hand the entire time.
    Corwin had stepped into Sophie’s suite and propped the door open to carry out his and Sophie’s luggage. Jane stopped just before they reached the door and peeked in the room. There was no sign of Corwin. He was probably in the bathroom washing off the smell of the rubber mask. She stepped inside, all but dragging Shelley behind her. Removing the doorstop and quietly closing the door, she gestured at the sofa and whispered, “Let’s sit down.“
    “I don’t think this is a good idea,“ Shelley said in a slightly shaky voice.
    “We’re in no danger. I have the upper hand,“ Jane replied.
    Corwin returned with his suitcase and was stunned to see them. “What are you two doing here? Get out!“
    “You have a choice to make. Let me have my say or I’ll follow you down and ask you a few questions in Sophie Smith’s presence,“ Jane said. “Which will it be?“
    Corwin slammed down the suitcase on a chair and said, “Then proceed with it. Sophie’s waiting for me.“
    Jane asked in a bland voice, “When we were all in this room, and Sophie told you to call the Strausmanns and tell them to come up here, you asked them on the phone if they remembered the room number.“
    “Did I? So what?“
    “Had they been here before?“
    “Only briefly. The morning Ms. Smith came back from the hospital,“ he said.
    “Shelley, would you go downstairs and ask Ms. Smith if that’s true, if you wouldn’t mind?“
    “No!“ Corwin said, turning pale. “Sophie had invited them to come up for a drink after the dessert party, and, of course, Sophie was in the hospital by that time. They caught up with me at the party and begged to come up for a drink anyway. I didn’t see