Free Grime and Punishment: A Jane Jeffry Mystery by Jill Churchill Page A

but what on earth—?"
    “Well, she left him — not me, mind you, but him — a strand of pearls that belonged to her mother. They're missing."
    “Forgive me, but what in the world are you talking about? A strand of
real
pearls? But I thought—"
    “—that Paul's people were dirt poor. Right. I don't know if the pearls are genuine or not. See, his mother emigrated from Poland just after World War I with her parents. The pearls were supposed to have been given to her folks during the war by some Russian soldier they helped escape a firing squad or some such thing. They were probably trash, but they might have been the result of some high-class looting. For all I know he might have ripped them off Anastasia's neck."
    “You never told me."
    “I never took the story seriously. They looked pretty ratty to me. Kinda discolored and lumpy.It crossed my mind that they were just tightly rolled dough lumps with a little varnish. Anyhow, Paul thought they were
the
family treasure, and said he was going to take them to New York sometime and have them appraised and cleaned and restrung. In the meantime, he told me to put them in the safe-deposit box."
    “Ladies!let me have your attention…" a woman at the front of the room said, clapping her hands in a very school-teacherish way. She was an angular, hard-featured woman with a belligerent manner. The kid who tried to jostle her in the halls probably came away with serious bruises.
    Jane lowered her voice. "Am I to assume you didn't bother to lock them up?"
    “Exactly. I just forgot. They were in an envelope in the drawer with my bras and slips and now they're gone."
    “Now, as you know, the carnival is our primary source of revenue for the purchase of an annual gift. Ladies? In the back! Could I please have your attention?”
    Jane and Shelley pretended interest for a few moments, and when the speaker had lost interest in policing them, Jane whispered out of the side of her mouth, "Why is this a secret? Have you told VanDyne?"
    “No. I don't want Paul to know."
    “But, Shelley, the police have to know. It surely has a bearing on the motive for the murder."
    “Maybe…"
    “How many of you ladies have worked the annual carnival before?" the speaker was asking.
    Jane obediently put her arm up and went on whispering to Shelley. "So why are you telling me this before you've told them?"
    “I just can't have Paul knowing. It might be a mistake. I mean, maybe I did put them in the box at the bank and just forgot."
    “You now better! Have you ever had amnesia before?"
    “I can't remember," Shelley said, smiling feebly.
    “I'm serious. You have to tell VanDyne, no matter how upset Paul might get. What's the worst he can do?"
    “He won't
do
anything except be terribly hurt that I was so neglectful of something that meant so much to his whole family. Jane, I think you should—"
    “Thank you, Mrs. Jeffry. I knew we could count on you.”
    put your arm down."
    “Count on me?" Jane asked, fearing the worst. "I think you just volunteered to run the cotton candy machine again."
    “Shit!”
    After this, in self-defense, she gave her full attention to the meeting in progress. It broke up moments before the final bell, and she and Shelley fled. No self-respecting adult would set themselves up for being in the building at the final bell on a Friday afternoon. "Jane, I want you to talk to the police for me," Shelley said, once they were breathing fresh, free air again.
    “Shelley, I can't do that. For one thing, VanDyne already thinks I'm half-crazy and wouldn't believe me. He'd run straight to Paul to confirm the story and get a description of the pearls — or bread pellets or whatever they are."
    “Then they just aren't going to know."
    “The police
have
to know. It's important to their investigation."
    “I'm not so sure. Jane, hasn't it struck you as odd? The whole thing? I mean, nobody knew I even had the damned things except Paul's family, and none of them live anywhere near. So