Murder by Yew (An Edna Davies Mystery #1)(32)

Obligingly, Starling headed for the kitchen to start dinner, and Edna set two places at the round dining table in a small alcove at one end of the living room. When she’d finished, she wandered over to look at the new pictures Starling had hung on her “trial” wall.

Starling owned half of a photography studio. During her off hours, she walked around Boston taking pictures of the city and its people as the mood struck her. She would enlarge what she considered to be the best shots and hang them on one of the whitewashed walls in her living room, which she referred to as her trial wall. The pictures she didn’t tire of were moved to different locations in the apartment or hung in the studio where, more often than not, they sold quickly.

“When did you hang these?” Edna called over her shoulder as she stood looking at the current display.

“I assume you’re talking about the pictures I took at Quincy Market last week.” Starling poked her head around the corner. “That was really weird.” She came out of the kitchen to stand beside Edna, pointing at one of the pictures with the tip of a carrot. “Some guy stopped me when I was walking through the Market. I wasn’t going to shoot there that day, but he offered me fifty bucks to take some pictures of his brother-in-law, the mime. Said he was on his way to the airport, and his camera was packed. He wanted to surprise his wife and said it was probably as close as she’d ever come to seeing her brother perform in Boston, since they live in Seattle, and she refuses to travel.”

“You didn’t mention the fact that you make a living at this, did you?” It was a rhetorical question. Edna knew her daughter would have been silently amused.

Starling laughed. “Fortunately, I had a new roll of film in the camera. I took a bunch of shots and slipped a business card into the canister before giving it to him.” She frowned. “He left in a big hurry. Didn’t even say good-bye to his brother-in-law.” She shrugged and bit the end off the carrot. “Must have been anxious to catch his plane.”

“Wouldn’t you have liked to see his face when he read your card?”

“You bet. If he likes my work, maybe he’ll send some business my way.” Starling leaned toward one of the pictures. “After the guy left, I decided to get some black-and-whites of the mime for myself. I’d taken only a few shots before he disappeared, too. I turned my back for a second to get a meter reading off the bricks and when I turned around again, he was gone.” Starling straightened and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “The place started filling up, so I hung around for a while. Some of the pictures turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Edna walked along the wall, looking closer at the photos. All at once, she stopped and leaned forward. “Most peculiar,” she said, squinting at one shot in particular.

The picture had been taken before the mime left. A low railing separated him from several tables at an outside cafe. From behind the performer, Starling had done a good job of capturing the delight on the faces of his audience. The general pleasure, however, didn’t apply to the table directly in front of him. One woman and two men were scowling at someone who was mostly hidden behind the entertainer.

“What is most peculiar, Mother? Is that a comment on my work?”

Edna smiled at her and waved a hand in protest. “Nothing of the kind. As usual, you’ve caught the spirit of the city.” She turned back to the wall and pointed to the glowering woman in the photograph. “What I thought was odd was this picture of my housekeeper.”

Twelve

“You’re kidding. Where?” Starling leaned over Edna’s shoulder to see the image of Beverly Lewis frowning at the person hidden by the mime. “Oh, sure. I remember them. I took that shot because everyone else in the crowd was having such a good time, and these people looked like they wanted to kill each other. Some contrast, huh?”

Edna nodded. “Bev certainly looks angry, doesn’t she?”

“So, that’s the housekeeper you told me about, the one everyone’s dying to hire?” Starling shuddered. “She doesn’t look like someone I’d want working in my house.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, seeing her in this picture, but she’s actually quite good-natured. I bet that’s her brother.” Edna pointed to a slight man sitting to Beverly’s left, guessing at the relationship because of the almost identical twisted expressions on their faces. “The man with the moustache doesn’t look at all familiar, and he doesn’t look quite as angry as the other two. Who are they glaring at? Who’s behind the mime?”

“A woman.” Starling hesitated, speaking slowly and frowning slightly as she recalled the memory of the fourth person at the small outdoor table. “She was wearing huge dark glasses and … and a big, floppy hat,” Starling finished triumphantly as she moved to stand beside her mother. “As I remember, she wore black, all black, except her hatband was bright red, and she had several silver chains around her neck. Quite a stunning woman, actually.” She glanced at Edna. “Is it important?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just that I’ve never seen this side of Beverly. She’s usually so jovial.”

“I don’t think any of the pictures of the woman in black came out very well, mostly because that big, floppy hat covered her face. The proof sheets are at the studio, though, if you want to see them.”