The Purrfect Murder

will upset people. My experience is if they are calm they recall more clearly.”
    “We have to tell them.”
    “We do, Sheriff Grundy, but if I could secure this information first, I think you’ll have much of what you need, in addition to the prime suspect. As Lorenzo and I are in evening clothes, we aren’t going to arouse suspicion.”
    “Go ahead.” He crossed his arms over his chest and for a moment wished he had someone that sharp on his force. He was staring at the novice officer when he thought that, but the kid had to learn sometime.
    As Lorenzo walked with Cooper back to the tables, he said, “You’re something, you know that?”
    She didn’t, really. She smiled and replied, “Thank you. You take the first twenty-five, I’ll take the last. They can write on napkins.”
    “Good.”
    The two quickly went from table to table.
    Cooper swept by Harry’s table, Number 11, leaned down, and whispered into Ned’s ear. “Tazio’s being taken to jail. Can you help her?”
    Ned’s face registered surprise as he said, “Of course.”
    “You can’t leave until the sheriff gives the all-clear. He’s over under the south portico. Lorenzo and I will take Susan home.”
    “Okay.” A grim look passed over Ned’s face before he could rearrange his features as though this was a social conversation.
    Within fifteen minutes Cooper and Lorenzo had scribbled-on napkins from each table.
    Lorenzo returned to Table 11, while Cooper delivered the napkins to Sheriff Grundy.
    “Thank you.”
    “Sheriff, the deceased’s husband, Jurgen Paulson, is seated at Table One. He knows nothing except that his wife hasn’t returned to the table for a half hour.”
    “I’ll take care of it.” The sheriff knew who Big Mim was, an Urquhart before her marriage, thanks to Cooper’s tip-off. Like most Virginians of many generations, he knew his pedigrees. The Virginian—indeed, the Southern—obsession with blood seems silly, even punitive sometimes, to non-Southerners. However, Harry’s grandmother and mother used to intone like a mantra, “Know your people.” Knowing bloodlines meant you knew your people. While it could be used in the pettiest forms of snobbery, it could also be extremely useful. Certain traits, as well as certain medical conditions, tended to run in families. Socially, of course, the knowledge was invaluable.
    The rich Urquharts had always been forces for progress and justice, even if high-handed in manner.
    Given his station in life, Sheriff Grundy had not met Big Mim before. He looked at Cooper and smiled tightly. She’d helped him twice tonight. He’d remember.
    Cooper memorized as many of the Albemarle County names as she could. Margaret Westlake, Kylie Kraft, Harvey Tillach, Ron Steinhauser, and Little Mim had left their tables. She made a rhyme out of it, hoping the names from her county wouldn’t drop out of memory. The people she had already thought of knew Dr. Wylde. The minute she had a chance, she’d write all this down.
    As Jurgen Paulson strode toward the dais, an officer came up and gently led him away.
    Folly Steinhauser, who was announcing the names for thanks, looked down to behold the sheriff walking toward her. She hoped she could finish her thank-yous.
    He waited. She concluded and held her hand over the mic and said, “Sheriff.”
    “I need to address the folks, ma’am, and I need you to help keep order.”
    “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? That scream.”
    “I’m afraid it is, ma’am.”
    He stepped up to the mic, his very pleasant voice contained in the tone of command. “Ladies and gentlemen, we ask for your forbearance and cooperation tonight. There has been an unfortunate occurrence. We have, we believe, apprehended the perpetrator. It is my duty to inform you that Mrs. Jurgen Paulson has been murdered—” The crowd gasped. He continued, “If anyone feels they have information relevant to this event, please contact one of my men.” He swept his arm and, as if by magic, the uniformed officers stepped forward. “I know this will spoil this very special occasion, and I’m sorry for it. No one will be allowed to leave until I tell you to do so.”
    The moment he released the mic, Folly stepped up to it. “Will the organizing committee please raise your hands? Sheriff, if you need any of us to help expedite matters, we are only too willing to serve.”
    He nodded thanks. The place exploded with talk. Kylie Kraft screamed and then fainted. Sophie fanned her.