Free Wading Into Murder by Joan Dahr Lambert Page B

perspiration, which was surprising since it was a cool day. Perhaps, after all, William was right. A wig might have made his head perspire like that.
    “Do you not agree?” he demanded, turning his eyes full on her face again and stroking his beard rhythmically. Mesmerized by his intense gaze and the monotonous strokes, she could only nod mutely.
    With a sigh, Dr. Bernstein rose to his feet. “Well, I shall start in that shop then. Goodbye, ladies. And William.” He nodded politely and trotted away.
    Laura grimaced. That little interchange hadn’t told her much – except that Dr. Bernstein was either a superb actor as well as an expert liar, or that William hadn’t seen him, or her, properly. But which version was correct?
    She glanced at William. He seemed puzzled but not convinced by Dr. Bernstein’s performance. He also looked different today, she realized. His neatly combed hair was brown instead of purple, and his dark pants and striped shirt were quite conventional. The results were startling. He no longer looked like a teen-ager, but like a young professional. He seemed vaguely familiar like this, which Laura concluded was due to the fact that he now bore some resemblance to most other people.
    He noticed her stare and grinned. “Don’t like to look like everyone else.” Laura laughed. In Bath, he went hippie; in Glastonbury, he did the opposite.
     “I still think it was him,” William insisted. “I couldn’t see if he was the one who pushed you, but he was there. Or someone who looked just like him.”
    “What I want to know,” Violet contributed, “is how he managed to disguise his beard.”
    William regarded her in stupefaction. “Of course,” he exclaimed. “I knew something was missing; I just couldn’t think what it was. But it still looked just like him without the beard. Do you suppose it could be a fake, and he can take it off? I wear one sometimes. Prickles like crazy.”
    “That’s possible,” Violet agreed, “though as you know, it takes a bit of time to clean up the face.”
    “Yeah,” William agreed fervently. “That glue stuff is a pain to get off.”
    “We still don’t know if anyone actually did push me, at least on purpose,” Laura reminded them. “Did either of you happen to notice who was nearby?”
    William nodded and rattled off an answer. “Most of the tour members were. The Japanese couple was pretty close to you, though I don’t think she was close enough to do the job. That confession is nonsense. I’m pretty sure he was in front of her, so it could have been him - which may explain the confession, though why she would want to protect that creep is beyond me.”
    He stopped for breath and then went on at the same rapid clip. “The guy from Switzerland was beside the Takaras, so he could have done it too. Violet was sitting here, of course, and our well-prepared tour conductor was hovering nearby. The two nurses were on their way to join you; I heard them say so, but I don’t think they had made it yet. Mrs. Bernstein was watching from across the street. Dr. Bernstein - well, I think he was Violet’s beaded lady, but he says he was with a psychic. Did I miss anyone?”
     “You didn’t miss a thing,” Violet answered. “Which might become a problem for you,” she added. “For goodness sake, be careful. You could be the next target. ”
    William grinned again. “Don’t worry. I’ve had some practice at making myself invisible.”
    That was an ambiguous statement, Laura thought, and filed the information away for future contemplation.
    “I’ll make a diagram showing where everyone was,” William went on. “It’ll be fun, and it might help us to see who could have done it.”
    He unfolded his lanky frame. “I think I’ll see how my grandmother is managing with Mrs. Takara. She’s a weird one. Repressed anger, I’d say. That husband of hers is a real shit-head.” He ambled off, and Laura was glad to note that he looked carefully in both