Free Here Comes the Bribe by Mary Daheim

William Powell.
    â€œWhat?” Gertrude called back. “I can’t hear you.”
    Judith lowered the volume. “There. It’s a wonder the Dooleys in back of us don’t report you for disturbing the peace.”
    Her mother took umbrage, waggling the remote at Judith. “With that big family, I need to turn up the TV to drown them out. I’m deaf, you know.”
    â€œWhen you want to be,” Judith muttered, carefully perching on the arm of the small divan. “Being deaf, I don’t suppose you heard or saw anything unusual in the backyard this morning.”
    Gertrude’s wrinkled face was blank. “I’m not nosy like some people around here. And I sure don’t go around looking for dead bodies. Say, what’s that ugly yellow ribbon doing by the birdbath? Aren’t the birds supposed to have a good soak? What’s worse is I might get my wheelchair caught in that ribbon and have a tragic accident.”
    â€œIt’s not that close to the walk,” Judith pointed out, “and I doubt it’ll be there by tomorrow. The police should be done with their crime-scene investigation later today.”
    Gertrude shot her daughter a skeptical glance. “We’ll see. The real crime scene is your kitchen. What gruesome thing are you cooking for supper tonight?”
    â€œI haven’t decided yet,” Judith admitted. “You’re an early riser. Are you sure you didn’t look out to check on the weather? You often do.”
    Gerrude shook her head. “The weather is always the same,” she replied doggedly. “It’s either raining or it isn’t.”
    â€œMother . . .”
    Gertrude knew when her daughter’s patience was running out. “Okay, so I did see somebody out there. There was an idiot who looked like he was saying his prayers. Had his hands folded and kept looking up at the sky. Maybe he wanted to see if it was raining.”
    â€œThat’s the Reverend Kindred,” Judith said.
    â€œKindred and his spirits, I suppose,” Gertrude muttered. “Probably a religious wacko.” She paused. “Earlier on, there was another, younger guy out there, but I forget when. He seemed to be taking notes. Of what, I couldn’t say. Maybe he’s a bird-watcher.”
    â€œYoung, as in his twenties?”
    Gertrude nodded. “I guess so. At my age, anybody under sixty looks young to me. I’m still waiting for you to grow up.”
    â€œBut you didn’t see Mrs. Schmuck’s body?”
    Gertrude scowled. “If I did, wouldn’t I have mentioned it? The cops asked me the same dumb question.”
    â€œI didn’t realize the police had interrogated you,” Judith said, though in retrospect she should have known. No doubt Woody had told his subordinates that there was another possible witness on the premises. “I assume you gave the same information to them?”
    Gertrude glared again. “No, I told them I’d seen Humpty-Dumpty fall off the wall and land on whoever it was who got killed around here this time. If those cops are as dumb as Lunkhead, they need all the help they can get. And I’m not gaga. Yet.”
    Judith couldn’t suppress a smile at her mother’s feistiness. “I know. You’re a good citizen.”
    â€œI’m a Democrat, that’s what I am,” Gertrude asserted. “But I still do my duty, no matter who’s running the government around here or in D.C. I always wished I could have voted for Harry Truman twice. Now, there was a man who knew his own mind and said what he thought.”
    â€œYou and Truman would’ve gotten along just fine,” Judith said, standing up. “It’s too bad you didn’t see who killed Millie Schmuck.”
    Gertrude gazed at her daughter with unblinking faded blue eyes. “Who says I didn’t?”
    Judith couldn’t argue the point.
    W hen she got back inside the