Bonnie of Evidence by Maddy Hunter Page B

strangled her.”
    “That’s before I knew of the dagger. We’re in Scotland. Curses always trump demons. Ask anyone.”
    “Pardon me, Mrs. Dalrymple.” The waiter who’d delivered the breakfast tray appeared at the library door, confusion running rampant on his face. “An emergency van has pulled up ta the front door. They’re asking about … a body?”
    “Room twenty-four. Mrs. Miceli’s husband is waiting fer them. Tell them I’ll join them presently.”
    With a tired sigh, Morna Dalrymple threw her shoulders back and cranked her neck to left and right, as if preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. “But they’ll have ta wait until I change inta something decent. I’ll not be welcoming visitors ta my inn wearing my nightgown and robe.”
    She made her way to the door, pausing halfway across the room to issue a parting decree. “Please tell yer grandmother ta peruse the Maccoull book with my blessing. The text is in English, so she should have no problem. As fer the dirk, ye’ll do me the favor of removing it from the premises. Immediately. I’ll not have the cursed thing in my hotel.”
    _____
    “So what’d you do with it, dear?”
    “I ran into our bus driver downstairs and asked him to stow the box in a safe place on the bus.”
    I’d stopped by Nana’s room on the way back to my own to give her and Tilly a heads up on our most recent calamity.
    “I hope he don’t get nosy and snoop inside,” Nana fretted as she unwound a turban of toilet paper from around her fresh perm. “What if he opens the lid? That curse could escape and sock the rest of us.”
    “I believe that’s Pandora’s box you’re referring to, Marion.” Tilly lingered by the window, observing the emergency van that was still parked in the front of the hotel. “All the evils of the earth flew out into the world. This is different. I don’t believe curses are capable of flight.”
    “There’s always a first time.” Nana folded her one-ply into a neat stack and plumped her curls in the dresser mirror.
    “C’mon, Nana,” I chided from my perch on her bed. “Since when do you believe in curses?”
    “Since that Kronk woman dropped dead of one.”
    I wagged my finger at her. “You see? This is how rumors get started. I told you. Etienne found an epinephrine pen in her bathroom, which means she was severely allergic to something.”
    “You bet she was,” Nana agreed. “Curses.”
    I shot a pleading look across the room. “Tilly, would you please tell my grandmother there’s no such thing as a curse?”
    “It’s all nonsense, Marion.” She made a shooing motion with her hand, as if scattering a swarm of midges. “Why, when I was living among the Dani in New Guinea, one malcontented woman was forever invoking curses on her fellow tribesmen. ‘May your head fill with black bile and explode with the sound of a thousand roaring rivers. May your man-meat wither like a dead snake and drop onto your feet.’ Quite poetic stuff for a diehard headhunter, actually.”
    “So what happened?” asked Nana.
    “Well, as a consequence of the woman’s constant incantations, the tribal chief decided to relocate his village to another part of the jungle.”
    Nana gasped. “He picked up stakes and left the troublemaker behind?”
    “Unfortunately, no. He was married to her, so he ended up taking her with him.”
    A moment of silence, followed by, “That don’t make no sense. If he had to drag her along with him, how come he moved?”
    “Too much cranial viscera on the ground. You couldn’t walk outside your hut without tripping over someone’s jawbone or Mr. Winky. It was especially treacherous during the rainy season.”
    Nana turned slowly in my direction and arched a defiant eyebrow. I glared at Tilly, wild-eyed. “Did I miss something? Didn’t you just get through telling Nana that curses are nonsense?”
    “I did. That’s because they are.”
    “So what’s with the exploding heads?”
    “Oh, that.” She