dear, but how was she to know? Usually we wind up throwing most of the batch on the compost heap. Even the Sunday School children hardly touch it.”
“Did your cook change the recipe this year?” Sarah asked.
“Oh no, she couldn’t do that. The one we’ve been using ever since we started the revels is taken straight from a fourteenth-century manuscript written by the prioress of an abbey in Kent. You don’t suppose this nouvelle cuisine fad has finally got around to frumenty?”
Nobody had anything to say on that question. Nehemiah Billingsgate looked around at the weary cluster of still costumed ex-revelers.
“Well, my dears, if frumenty’s the most exciting thing we can come up with, I think we may as well call it a day. You and Sarah will be back in the morning then, Max?”
“Let’s see what happens between now and then,” Max answered. “The police may come up with something.”
Saying goodbye was a bit awkward. Sarah could hardly thank her hostess for a lovely time under the circumstances. She compromised on, “Please don’t worry too much, especially about Aunt Bodie. I simply can’t imagine she’d stand for having anything awful happen to her. We’ll be in touch.”
9
“W HAT A RELIEF TO get out of there!” Sarah released the underpinnings of her hennin, pulled the tall cone away from her head, and tossed it into the back seat of the car. “Turn up the heater, will you, dear?”
“It’ll warm up once we get going. In the meantime, you could move a little closer.”
“I don’t want to get my draperies in the way of the gas pedal.” Nevertheless, Sarah took Max up on his attractive offer, kicking her by now bedraggled train over to the far side of the passenger seat.
“I feel as if we ought to be out combing the byways for Aunt Bodie, but I know she’d be the first to say that’s nonsense. What could we accomplish in the dark that the police and Tick with the helicopter haven’t already done better? I’m just relieved that Abigail and Bill managed to get their company away without having police and media all over the place.”
“I’m surprised Grimpen didn’t go for the publicity,” said Max. “I’ve seen cops willing to cover up a crime before, especially when somebody rich and prominent is involved, though it sometimes works the other way around. But I’ve never seen anybody so ready to shove the whole case under the rug after he’d arrived at a brilliant solution without even bothering to examine the evidence.”
Sarah yawned. “Melly said her friend Reggie told her Grimpen had a bridge game on at the country club. Maybe he was afraid his wife would be cross if he dallied around doing his job. Or else he stole the Ghost himself and was getting edgy.”
“I’d buy that with pleasure if I thought Grimpen had brains enough to carry it off. We’ll have to check him out, Kätzele. ”
“You’ll have to, darling. I ought to get after Cousin Lionel about the Morris dancers.”
“That brings up a slightly embarrassing point,” said Max.
“Yes, dear. Don’t worry, I’ll know in a flash if he was in on the doings. Lionel thinks he’s a master of guile, but his eyes cross whenever he tries to tell a lie. Besides, he has all that money of Aunt Appie’s to play with nowadays, so I hardly think he’d begin rustling Rolls Royces for kicks. Do you think Miriam will be furious with us for having stayed out so long?”
“You phoned the house and told her what was happening, didn’t you?”
“Of course. She said Davy went right to sleep after his story and he’s welcome to stay the night, but she knows how we feel and she’ll be waiting up for us.”
“Don’t start feeling guilty about that. Miriam and Ira are both night owls. They’d be prowling till all hours anyway. See what’s on the radio, why don’t you?”
After that they didn’t say much. By the time they got to Ireson Town, Sarah was actually asleep, curled up on the seat with her head in
“Did your cook change the recipe this year?” Sarah asked.
“Oh no, she couldn’t do that. The one we’ve been using ever since we started the revels is taken straight from a fourteenth-century manuscript written by the prioress of an abbey in Kent. You don’t suppose this nouvelle cuisine fad has finally got around to frumenty?”
Nobody had anything to say on that question. Nehemiah Billingsgate looked around at the weary cluster of still costumed ex-revelers.
“Well, my dears, if frumenty’s the most exciting thing we can come up with, I think we may as well call it a day. You and Sarah will be back in the morning then, Max?”
“Let’s see what happens between now and then,” Max answered. “The police may come up with something.”
Saying goodbye was a bit awkward. Sarah could hardly thank her hostess for a lovely time under the circumstances. She compromised on, “Please don’t worry too much, especially about Aunt Bodie. I simply can’t imagine she’d stand for having anything awful happen to her. We’ll be in touch.”
9
“W HAT A RELIEF TO get out of there!” Sarah released the underpinnings of her hennin, pulled the tall cone away from her head, and tossed it into the back seat of the car. “Turn up the heater, will you, dear?”
“It’ll warm up once we get going. In the meantime, you could move a little closer.”
“I don’t want to get my draperies in the way of the gas pedal.” Nevertheless, Sarah took Max up on his attractive offer, kicking her by now bedraggled train over to the far side of the passenger seat.
“I feel as if we ought to be out combing the byways for Aunt Bodie, but I know she’d be the first to say that’s nonsense. What could we accomplish in the dark that the police and Tick with the helicopter haven’t already done better? I’m just relieved that Abigail and Bill managed to get their company away without having police and media all over the place.”
“I’m surprised Grimpen didn’t go for the publicity,” said Max. “I’ve seen cops willing to cover up a crime before, especially when somebody rich and prominent is involved, though it sometimes works the other way around. But I’ve never seen anybody so ready to shove the whole case under the rug after he’d arrived at a brilliant solution without even bothering to examine the evidence.”
Sarah yawned. “Melly said her friend Reggie told her Grimpen had a bridge game on at the country club. Maybe he was afraid his wife would be cross if he dallied around doing his job. Or else he stole the Ghost himself and was getting edgy.”
“I’d buy that with pleasure if I thought Grimpen had brains enough to carry it off. We’ll have to check him out, Kätzele. ”
“You’ll have to, darling. I ought to get after Cousin Lionel about the Morris dancers.”
“That brings up a slightly embarrassing point,” said Max.
“Yes, dear. Don’t worry, I’ll know in a flash if he was in on the doings. Lionel thinks he’s a master of guile, but his eyes cross whenever he tries to tell a lie. Besides, he has all that money of Aunt Appie’s to play with nowadays, so I hardly think he’d begin rustling Rolls Royces for kicks. Do you think Miriam will be furious with us for having stayed out so long?”
“You phoned the house and told her what was happening, didn’t you?”
“Of course. She said Davy went right to sleep after his story and he’s welcome to stay the night, but she knows how we feel and she’ll be waiting up for us.”
“Don’t start feeling guilty about that. Miriam and Ira are both night owls. They’d be prowling till all hours anyway. See what’s on the radio, why don’t you?”
After that they didn’t say much. By the time they got to Ireson Town, Sarah was actually asleep, curled up on the seat with her head in
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