Stork Raving Mad: A Meg Langslow Mystery (A Meg Lanslow Mystery)

that’s right!” Kathy beamed as if I’d passed a difficult test. “I remember I went out to the barn to see Abe and everyone was just settling down there.”
    I glanced at the chief, wondering if I should bring up the curious gap between when Michael and I had talked to Kathy and when she actually arrived at the house. Probably not. Maybe he’d already noticed, and if he hadn’t, he’d probably rather I not bring it up in front of Kathy.
    “I see,” the chief said. “Then would you mind explaining how you managed to park your car so it’s blocked in by Mrs. Langslow’s?”
    “Mrs. Langslow?” Kathy shot a puzzled look at me.
    “My mother,” I said. “She came out to decorate the nursery.”
    “And entered the house at 12:15, some time before Meg discovered the body,” the chief said. “We know the precise time because Mrs. Langslow noted it in her Day-Timer to keep track of the hours her contractor worked on the decorating project. According to Mrs. Langslow, she has been either in the nursery supervising the decorations or in the barn helping with therefreshments all day and did not move the car at any time. Given the position of your car, right up against the barn with a tree on one side and shrubbery on the other, you couldn’t have driven it in or out any other way. So, Ms. Borgstrom, if you arrived at 1:30 would you care to tell me how you happened to be blocked in by a car that had been here since 12:15?”

Chapter 23
     
    Kathy stared openmouthed at the chief for a few seconds, then burst into tears. Without taking his eyes off her, Chief Burke reached behind him, took a tissue from the box at the back of the desk, and handed it to her. Kathy swiped at her eyes and blew her nose.
    “I knew you’d suspect me,” she said. She was still sobbing intermittently. “She was so awful to me and she was trying to get me fired, and when I heard what she was trying to do to Ramon, I decided to confront her. Just as I told you.”
    “With the contents of this folder?” the chief said.
    “Yes,” Kathy said. “Before the meeting with Abe, and Art, and Michael. I told you that.”
    “And what happened when you attempted to blackmail her?” the chief asked.
    “It wasn’t blackmail,” she said. “And nothing happened. I didn’t get to talk to her.”
    “And if I said that you were seen entering the sunporch?” the chief said. “The students who smoke spent quite a lot of time in the backyard, with a good view of the sunporch.” I noticed that he didn’t actually say any of them had seen her.
    “Yes, I went into the sunporch and I looked into the librarythrough the French doors,” Kathy said. “But I could see it was no use going in.”
    “Why not?” the chief said.
    Kathy closed her eyes and scrunched up her mouth as if making an effort to get words out. Or keep them in; I wasn’t sure which.
    “Because there’s no use talking to a dead woman!” she said finally.
    “How did you know she was dead?” the chief asked, glancing at me. “Meg assumed she was merely sleeping.”
    “Meg didn’t see that man hit her over the head with the rhinoceros statue,” Kathy exclaimed.
    “Hippopotamus,” I muttered.
    “What man?” the chief asked.
    “I don’t know,” she said. “Not one of our drama students. He was Asian, tall, wearing glasses and jeans and a black T-shirt.”
    I winced. We had several other Asian students in the house, but the only one who wasn’t a drama student was Danny Oh.
    “And you didn’t report this because . . .” the chief asked.
    “Because it would be my word against his, and everyone knew how much I hated her. And then I realized that the longer I didn’t report it the more suspicious I would be, and I figured you’d catch him somehow.”
    “Was he wearing gloves?” the chief asked.
    “No,” she said. “Mittens. Fluffy pink mittens.”
    “Oh my God,” I said, causing them both to turn in my direction. “They’re probably my mittens. I keep them in the front hall.”
    “Did you notice them missing?” the chief asked.
    “No, but I wouldn’t,” I said. “I never wear them. They were a present from an aunt who must think I’m still in grade school. When the students arrived, I left them in one of the baskets in the front hall in the hopes that someone who didn’t have gloves would borrow them and forget to bring them back. I wasn’t expecting the borrower to be a murderer.”
    “Attempted murderer, I think,” the chief said,