Free A Fit of Tempera by Mary Daheim

are you talking about? I was the one who called! I may have been ticked off by that stupid phone, but I don’t do drugs and I’m not slow. Who’ve you got manning the phones? Dumbo?”
    Costello sneered at Renie. “Right, sure. I guess when you’re filthy rich, you can afford to be dumb as dirt. Not to mention take as many drugs as you please. Well, in the end, it’s all the same—an OD in a body bag.” For the first time, he gave the merest hint of a smile.
    Renie leaped up from the sofa and spun around the room. “Oh, good grief!”
    Judith intervened. “Is that all? I can’t think of anything else we can tell you that would be helpful.”
    The threatened smile actually materialized, though Costello bestowed it on Dabney Plummer. Plummer grinned in response, looking a lot like a rabbit. “You hear that, Dabney? The suspect says she can’t think of anything that would help us.” The undersheriff chortled nastily, then swung back to face the cousins. “How about the deceased’s plans for the afternoon? How about all those empty beer cans? How about grand theft? What does the suspect have to say about that? ” The last words came out on a roar.
    â€œ Theft? Suspect? ” It was Judith’s turn to be annoyed. “Now just a minute, Mr. Costello—my cousin and I aren’t suspects. In fact, my husband is a policeman. He probably knows more about homicide than you and all your deputies put together.”
    Abbott N. Costello again refused to be impressed. But he did lower his voice. “You think that people related to law enforcement officers never commit crimes? Don’t make me laugh.”
    â€œOkeydokey,” murmured Renie, who had slipped over to the bedroom door. Surreptitiously, she glanced around the curtain to make sure that all the commotion hadn’t awakened Clive Silvanus. It hadn’t.
    â€œThen drop the ‘suspect’ stuff,” Judith demanded, her black eyes snapping. “And what’s this about grand theft?” Involuntarily, her gaze darted to the Murphy bed.
    â€œNever mind,” huffed Costello. “Just answer the question about Tobias’s plans for the afternoon.”
    Judith gave an impatient shrug. “If he had any, he didn’t tell us. I think he was surprised by Lazlo Gamm’s arrival. But I suppose he was expecting Iris. She said so, anyway. Did he have an appointment book or a calendar?”
    Again Costello gave his deputy that snide smile. “Listen to that, Dabney! The policeman’s wife wants to know if the victim had an appointment book! Or a calendar! Now isn’t that clever detective work? Her husband must havetaught her everything he knows!” He chortled and Dabney grinned.
    The cousins exchanged more glances, both of them angry, yet trying to warn each other to keep calm. They waited in silence for the next outrage from the undersheriff. He was now scowling, his gray eyes raking over the cabin one more time. Judith thought he lingered a bit too long on the curtain that covered the Murphy bed.
    But a moment later, he was pointing that beefy finger at Dabney Plummer and saying, “Out.’” The lawmen left without another word. In fact, Judith realized, Dabney Plummer had never spoken at all. She said as much to Renie.
    â€œI wouldn’t talk to Costello, either,” Renie replied. “What a creep.”
    Judith went over to the window next to the stove. She could see the undersheriff’s and his deputy’s flashlights bobbing through the woods. When they disappeared among the trees, she turned back to Renie.
    â€œLet’s go. Clive Silvanus won’t wake up until next week.” Judith grabbed her jacket from the hook next to the bedroom door.
    Renie was puzzled. “Go? Go where?”
    Judith rummaged in her purse for her car keys. “First, to see Ward Kimball. And Lark. Second, to use the phone at the gas