Nursing a Grudge: An Earl Walker Mystery

Chapter 16

Earl looked out in the hall to make sure no one was watching. “You better come in and sit down. I’d hate for you to pass out before you had a chance to share your wisdom.”

Jenny made a beeline for the couch. “By the way, have you found a new place to live yet?”

Earl held up a hand. “One thing at a time. You were going to tell me about a murder—?”

“Oh—it was so simple! You’re going to kick yourself when you hear this.” She glanced back at the man in the wheelchair, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I—I—”

Earl motioned for her to sit. “Just tell me. I can see you’re about to explode.”

“Well.” Jenny put her hands on her knees and took a second to collect herself. “You know how we were in the recreation center on Saturday afternoon, right? There was the bowling tournament, and there was, I think, a shuffleboard or something, and there was the billiards table—”

“A room full of people leading rich, active lives.” Earl rubbed his hands. Would the soreness ever go away? “Where are you going with this?”

“That’s where George Kent was murdered.”

“But we saw him later, at the party.”

Jenny clapped her hands together. “Look, I know that was where we saw him, er—” She paused.

Earl looked at her. “Collapse?”

“Um, yes,” she said, relieved to have gotten past the indelicacy. “I know that we saw—that—happen at the party. But the murder actually took place earlier that day. In the recreation center.”

“Far be it from me to point out the implausibility of your theory,” Earl grumbled. “But there was a room full of witnesses. Somebody would have seen something.”

“And that would be different from your own theory, how?”

Earl set his jaw. “Go on.”

“It was the playing cards.” Jenny, glowing, paused to let the declaration sink in.

Earl squinted. “You’re not serious?”

“Yes!” Jenny pantomimed the card game. “You deal a hand of cards. Is that what you call it? A hand? Anyway, the cards are razor sharp. George Kent gets a paper cut, the card has been poisoned,  and the poison goes right into his blood.”

Earl locked his fingers together. “And you’re saying that’s why he keeled over at the party?”

“He went right to the party after that. The poison had enough time to course through his system—”

“Without everyone else at the card table being cut and poisoned, too?”

“Not all the cards were poisoned. Just the ones the dealer gives to Mr. Kent.”

“And how does the dealer not cut himself on the deadly playing cards?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wears gloves.”

Earl looked at her doubtfully. “I see.”

“It explains everything.”

Earl folded his hands. “Of course, you’re ignoring the central problem. George Kent didn’t even stop at the card table.”

“But—”

“We saw him when he came in. He walked around the room once, he stopped at the billiard table, then he came to where we were at the, um, bowling tournament.”

“Huh.” Jenny’s shoulders slumped, and she slid back on the couch. “It was so simple.”

“Sorry to pop your bubble there.”