G'Day To Die Read online

“I have plans for her tomorrow evening after dinner, and no offense, old bean, but they don’t include you.”

  Duncan smiled stiffly. “If you get her for after-dinner activities tomorrow, I get her for the entire day in the Barossa Valley, plus dinner alone with her and any postdinner intrigue we care to engage in.”

  “Interesting take on equal time,” Etienne said in amusement.

  “Works for me, old bean.”

  “Do I look entirely obtuse to you?”

  “How honest do you want me to be?”

  “Bischero,” rasped Etienne.

  “Farabutto,” Duncan snapped back.

  Oh, yeah. Guy’s not monopolizing them anymore was working out really well. I glanced around the bar. Where was he? Maybe I could convince him I’d only been kidding.

  “Evenin’.” A barmaid carrying a tray of colorful mixed drinks arrived at our table. “Who gets the Shirley Temple with extra cherries?”

  Nana raised her hand.

  “The Professor and Mary Ann?”

  “I’ll take it,” said Tilly.”

  “Dry martini with a twist?”

  “That would be me,” said Etienne.

  She held up a highball glass whose contents resembled a Pepto-Bismol shake. “Strawberry Kiss?”

  Etienne nodded toward me. “The young lady.”

  She plucked the final glass off the tray. “Old Bastard?”

  “Here,” said Etienne, slapping the table in front of Duncan.

  Duncan’s mouth inched into a crooked grin. “Maleducato,” he said, bowing his head politely.

  “Zoccolo.” Etienne nodded back.

  “Anything else I can bring you right away?” the barmaid asked.

  “I wouldn’t mind havin’ a refill on my Kaopectate shooter.” Nana waved her empty shot glass at Duncan. “What’d you say it’s called?”

  “A Screaming Orgasm.”

  I hung my head. Oh, God.

  Nana handed the shot glass to the barmaid. “Could you make it a double?”

  “I need to call it a night, guys. My head is fuzzy.”

  “It’s only a little past midnight,” said Etienne, as we stood outside my door. “We have the whole night ahead of us.”

  “I think you should invite us in for a nightcap,” Duncan urged.

  “The only thing in my room that’s even marginally alcoholic is mouthwash. I’m going to bed. Six o’clock comes early, and I still have to pack.” I unlocked my door and blew each of them a kiss. “Night, night. Thanks for a fun evening.”

  “But, Emily,” they pleaded, doing the unison thing again.

  I closed the door and slumped against it, my attention drawn immediately to a red light that was blinking rapidly in the darkness. I flipped on the light switch and walked to the phone, feeling a moment’s dread as I regarded the indicator light signaling a message on voice mail. I hated unexpected phone calls when I was traveling. They always made me fear the worst. I picked up the phone and punched a button.

  “Imily, hi, this is Peter Blunt from the coroner’s office. Wanted to git back to you about your grandmother’s photographs. We didn’t find any Polaroid snapshots among Ms. Bellows’s belongings, just the postcards, so I hope they turn up for you someplace ilse. Sorry I don’t have bitter news for you. My apologies to your grandmother.”

  I replaced the phone on its cradle, this new information causing my brain to grow even more fuzzy than it was before. So if Claire Bellows didn’t have Nana’s photos, who did?

  “I thought for sure they was gonna pull her over to search her backpack,” Nana said in a conspiratorial tone the next morning, “but she cleared security slick as a whistle. Didn’t matter, you gettin’ stuck at the back a the line, dear. There wasn’t nothin’ to see.”

  I’d been waylaid helping Bernice drag her luggage to the check-in counter after one of the wheels fell off her pullman, so I went through the security line last rather than first. “The plant can’t be in her knapsack, then.”

  “And she wouldn’t a packed it in her grip ’cause it’d get her clothes all full a dirt and prickles,” said Nana.

  Tilly leaned heavily on her cane. “If she didn’t pack it in either her knapsack or her suitcase, should we assume she didn’t take it at all?”

  We were huddled behind a self-serve display case in an airport candy shop, surrounded by chocolate penguins, koalas, kangaroos, and wombats that produced an aroma like Hershey-bar-scented room deodorizer. Inhaling too deeply would probably cause serious weight gain.

  “The only thing I’m gonna assume is that them chocolates taste so good, I need to get me a box,” Nana said, grabbing a serving tray and tongs. “I’d buy some for the boys, but I’m afraid they’d melt before we got home.”

  “Our hotel rooms should be equipped with mini-refrigerators,” I reminded her, “so you’d probably be safe.”

  “The place they’d melt would be in my mouth, dear. When it comes to chocolate, I got no self-control.”

  “Ladies,” Tilly interrupted, “we’re getting off topic. If Diana Squires doesn’t have the plant, should we delete her from our list of suspects who might be responsible for Claire’s death?”

  “I wish we could go back to Port Campbell,” I said in frustration. “If the plant is still there, we wouldn’t have to—”

  “S’cuse me, dear.” Nana nodded toward the main concourse. “What do you s’pose that’s all about?”

  Just outside the candy shop, Duncan stood mutely while Diana circled her arms around him in an affectionate bear hug. She cooed and laughed while he nodded; squeezed his arm while he smiled.

  “Looks like she’s hittin’ on ’im,” said Nana.

  “I find that rather surprising considering the age gap between them,” said Tilly.

  “How old do you s’pose she is? I can’t tell for all the makeup.”

  I watched the encounter with curiosity. Duncan was always open and friendly with people, but I wondered what he’d done to merit all the extra attention. Diana stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on his cheek, then trundled off with her knapsack strapped to her back like an iron lung.

  “I have no idea what prompted that,” I said, “but I know we’re all itching to find out.”

  I caught up to him halfway to our gate. “You walk too fast,” I teased as I took up stride beside him.

  He took my hand and smiled. “Hey, Em, what’s the good word?”

  “Mmmm”—I cocked my head as I regarded his cheek—“lipstick.”

  He paused for a nanosecond before swiping his hand down his face. “Is it gone?”

  “Almost.” I rubbed his cheekbone with my fingertips. “For future reference? Deep burgundy isn’t your best shade.”

  He grinned. “A souvenir from Diana Squires, who stopped to express her gratitude. That woman gives me the willies, Em. She looks as if she learned to apply makeup from an undertaker.”

  “What was she expressing her gratitude about?”

  “A random act of kindness. She was trying to manage a huge box plus her luggage this morning, so I offered to carry the box for her. It was no big deal, but she was acting like—”

  “She left the hotel with a box?” My voice became a squeak. “Where is it now?”

  “Back at the hotel. The front desk clerk was going to mail it for her.”

  “Are you serious?” I clenched my fists. No wonder her knapsack hadn’t sent up any red flags. Damn! “Did you see the label? Do you know where she was sending it?”

  “I caught a glimpse. A company called Infinity Inc. in Wilmington, Delaware.”

  “Was it heavy?”

  “Not for me.”

  “Did she want it overnighted?”

  “Emily—”

  “Do they have overnight mail in Australia? With the international dateline thing, it could arrive in Delaware even before she sends it.”

  He clapped his hands on my shoulders and gave me a narrow look. “Would you mind telling me why you’re so freaked out about
Diana Squires’s box?”

  My mouth fell open. “This isn’t freaked out. Yesterday at lunch? When Jake let his spider loose? That was freaked out.”

  “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?” asked Etienne, pausing beside us with Nana on one arm and Tilly on the other. “I couldn’t resist picking up a couple of good-looking young ladies along the way.”

  “Anyone want a chocolate?” Nana flipped open the lid of a small white box and offered up the contents. “I bought a whole Noah’s Ark a local wildlife. If you’re one a them vegetarians, it’s a good way to try kangaroo.”

  The guys happily depleted much of Nana’s menagerie as we moseyed toward our departure gate. However, unlike M&Ms, this chocolate melted in their hands as well as their mouths, so they had to make a pit stop at the men’s room. When they’d gone, I herded Nana and Tilly to a quiet corner in the gate area.

  “Do you know why no one could find Nana’s plant yesterday? Because it wasn’t there anymore. Diana mailed it to Delaware!”

  “No kiddin’?” Nana said, wide-eyed.

  “No kidding. She packed it in a big box, and Duncan carried it to the front desk for her this morning.”

  “That was nice a him,” said Nana. “His parents raised him real good.”

  “Did she actually tell Duncan what was in the box?” asked Tilly.

  “Well, no, but it was addressed to Infinity Inc. What else could it be?”

  Nana shrugged. “Could be she’s mailin’ all her dirty laundry back home so she’ll have room in her grip for lots a new stuff. Some folks haven’t figured out it’s cheaper just to spring for another suitcase.”

  Tilly rapped her cane on the floor. “If you turn around, you’ll notice she’s right over there. Perhaps we should simply ask her.”

  She was standing in a tight circle with Roger Piccolo and Heath Acres, her hands flying into the air as she railed at Heath.

  “What do you s’pose them three’s got to talk about?” asked Nana.

  Heath was shaking his head, looking as if he wanted to escape, only to appear more desperate when Roger started ranting, too.

  I made a shushing sound that echoed my disgust. “I bet you anything they’re arguing about Nora. They’re probably trying to cram incentives down Heath’s throat so he’ll convince his mother to endorse their company products. I hope he doesn’t sell out. I think they should just leave the poor woman alone. Who cares how many wrinkles she has?”

  “Obviously, Infinity and GenerX care,” said Tilly. “Why else the hard sell? Do you suppose they think they’ve found the goose that laid the golden egg?”

  “I gotta sit,” Nana declared as she limped toward a row of unoccupied chairs. “My kick-ass boots are killin’ my feet.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” Tilly admitted as she limped to the chair beside her. “If I had to do it again, I’d buy the ones with the orthopedic inserts.”

  I sat down next to Nana. “You know, ladies, if you switched to closed-toe walking shoes, you could probably lose the boots and still be protected.”

  They leaned over to regard each other’s footwear with the kind of adulation people normally reserve for newborns and Lamborginis. “We don’t wanna lose ’em, dear. Once you look this hot, it’s hard settlin’ for ordinary.” She leaned back in her seat and smiled. “You wanna see some pictures? I got a new batch.”

  I gestured to Conrad and Ellie while Nana plowed through her pocketbook. “Are you all set to leave Melbourne behind?” I asked as they joined us.

  Conrad looked so miserable, even his mustache was drooping. “I’ve failed you, Marion. The university has failed you. My sincere apologies. It pains me to think what might have been.”

  Ellie nodded in sympathy. “Connie knows a scientist in Sweden who has a long-standing offer to award one million American dollars to anyone who can provide him with samples of plants previously thought extinct. Just think. The two of you might have ended up splitting all that money.”

  “I’m a scientist,” Conrad said dismissively. “The last thing a scientist ever concerns himself with is money.”

  Ellie stared at him as if his nose had suddenly been injected with growth hormone. “That’s not what you said last night when you were fretting about how you were going to scrape together the down payment on the new condomin—”

  “These ladies are not interested in our financial affairs,” he snapped, cutting her off.

  “Well, you’re an old fool if you can stand there and claim that five hundred thousand dollars wouldn’t solve a lot of our retirement problems.”

  She glared at him. He glared at her. Nana handed them a photograph.

  “That there’s Bernice when she was gettin’ chased by the emu. I got a real good angle showin’ off her new boots.

  “This is the stain on Bernice’s shirt after the koala peed on it. I’m real happy we’re not doin’ scratch and sniff.

  “Here’s the stagecoach at Ballarat. Them two fellas makin’ horns behind their wives’ heads are the Dicks.

  “This one is a little four-legged critter what I found runnin’ around. Couldn’t figure out what it was.”

  Conrad studied the last photo in lengthy silence. “Where did you shoot this, Marion?”

  “I think it was down by them trees ’fore you get to the gold mine.”

  “Have you any idea what this creature is?”

  “I was leanin’ toward chipmunk.”

  “This is a desert rat kangaroo!” he said excitedly.

  Nana froze. “THERE WAS A RAT RUNNING AROUND THAT PLACE WE WAS AT YESTERDAY?”

  “That’s not the point, Marion. It hasn’t been seen since nineteen-thirty-five!”

  Chapter 10

  I was missing something. I knew I was missing something. But what?

  Upon arrival in Adelaide, we’d boarded an air-conditioned bus for a tour of the city and its environs. Adelaide seemed a sleepy, genteel place, big on city parks and Parliamentary-style buildings, and short on skyscrapers and kamikaze traffic. Mothers pushed fancy prams down city sidewalks. Children were meticulously dressed in school uniforms. Everyone looked healthy, happy, and incredibly handsome. It had such a 1950s It’s a Wonderful Life feel to it, that if I lived here, I expected my neighbors might be Ozzie and Harriet, or Wally and the Beav.

  Our hotel sat cheek to jowl with the shopping district and was pretty upscale with its sliding glass doors, balconies, posh bathrooms, and computer hookups. I was sharing a two-bedroom suite with Nana and Tilly, who were exploring Rundle Mall while I sat at the desk in our living room, staring at Nana’s computer screen.

  From the web, I’d discovered that Conrad Carver was exactly who he said he was. He’d had a distinguished career as a paleobotanist at the Smithsonian Institution, authored several university textbooks, and enjoyed bird-watching, World War II documentaries, and championing environmental issues that promoted the survival of native wildlife on a global scale. There was nothing in his background that hinted of unscrupulous behavior.

  So why was I haunted by the feeling that something wasn’t quite right? That some critical clue was staring me in the face, but I couldn’t see it?

  I recalled the scene in the airport this morning, pinpointing the moment when I’d begun to toy with another theory.

  It was when Ellie mentioned the money.

  Conrad had been so irritated with her. Why? Was he embarrassed about having his financial difficulties revealed, or simply angry that she’d spilled the beans about the million-dollar award? Had he been planning to sell the plant on the sly so he could pocket all the loot himself? Not that Nana would care. Since her big lottery win, five hundred thousand was chump change to her, but if that had been his intent, it was so dishonest!

  Dishonesty aside, however, the question that baffled me the most was how could he sell a plant that no one could find?

  I drummed my fingers on the desk as I studied Nana’s infamous Polaroid. How could a team of university botanists mi
ss this thing? Granted, it looked common as dirt, but these guys were experts. Shouldn’t at least one of them have stumbled on it?

  I stopped drumming as another thought hit me. They should have, unless Conrad had been lying to us right from the start.

  Uff da. I typed an entry into the laptop, clicked on a couple of links, wrote down the number that appeared on the screen, and turned off the computer so I could use the phone.

  “University of Milbourne, Botany Department,” announced the woman who answered. “This is Liz.”

  “Hi, Liz, I need your help. Is the big international botany conference taking place this week?”

  “That would be the week after nixt, luv, on the twinty-fourth.”

  “Oo-kay. That’s what I thought, but when I stopped by the department yesterday, lots of people were gone, so I was afraid I’d mixed my dates up.”

  “No, no. A group of thim were on a field trip to Port Campbell yesterday. But it turned out to be more of a wild-goose chase. If you need to talk to anyone, do yourself a favor and don’t stop by today. Come tomorrow.” She lowered her voice to a discreet whisper. “They might be over their grouchies by then.”

  I rang off and powered up the laptop again, frustrated that my hunch had been off the mark, but glad for the verification. Conrad said he’d contacted the university, but how did we know he’d been telling the truth? He could have made up the whole story, and we never would have known the difference. But he had contacted them, and they had sent a search team, and they’d come up dry. So where did that leave me?

  I turned in my chair as the door rattled open. “Hi, ladies.” As Nana and Tilly trooped down the long hallway to the living room, I typed the word, angiosperms, into the computer.

  “The shoppin’ in that mall area is real good, Emily. They got a David Jones store what sells lots a Queen Elizabeth hats for four and five hundred bucks, and some fancy boutiques with scarves and neckties and pretty opal earrings.”

  “Uh-huh.” I clicked on the first site listed and scanned the text.

  “We bumped into Conrad and Ellie while we was out. Conrad said he called Sovereign Hill to tell ’em they got a desert rat kangaroo runnin’ around the grounds. The official he talked to didn’t know what that was, so Conrad called the University a Melbourne’s Zoology Department and told ’em they needed to send a team a experts to Ballarat to look for the critter.”