Murder on the Thirteenth by A.E. Eddenden Page B

Paul Jones. In Tretheway’s circle, he was picked.
    â€œTo the centre!” Chauncey and his group picked up their tempo and volume.
    The remaining seven of each circle joined hands again and rushed toward the centre to form a cage of sorts over the hapless birdie, raising their arms and voices in a crescendo of squeals and shrieks. They repeated this several times at the command of King Chauncey.
    â€œTo the centre again!”
    Some circles were more belligerent than others. They physically bumped their birdie. For the third year in a row, Mrs. Zulp was actually knocked off her feet. This did not happen to Tretheway.
    â€œOnce again!”
    One group had zealously grabbed poor Luke as their birdie. With a wild smile he danced out of time to the music as they bumped and pushed him vigorously around the circle.
    â€œFor the last time!”
    The last rush to the centre was the most spirited. Everyone yelped or squealed their loudest. The band’s last crushing chord of trumpets, trombone, drum roll, cymbal crash and squeezed accordion signalled the climax. All arms rose in a final farewell to the birdie, the cage, and the Paul Jones for another year. Tretheway was lucky to hear Mary Dearlove say something over the racket.
    He saw her lips move.
    â€œWhat?” He bent over. She spoke in his ear.
    â€œMidnight. Thirteenth floor.”
    Before Tretheway could answer, all came down with a final cheer. They all applauded themselves and the orchestra. The circles began to break up. Before Tretheway could get to Mary Dearlove, she disappeared once more into the milling crowd.
    The next fifteen minutes were spent in recuperation. King Chauncey and his Knights took a well-earned rest. The lights spinning and sparkling over the crowd, became brighter. Most of the dancers returned to their own tables to re-fuel. Some visited other tables while others retired to the rest rooms for repairs,
    â€œSee Mrs. Zulp fell again.” Garth Dingle sat beside Tretheway.
    Tretheway smiled. He sipped Scotch from an oversize tumbler filled with ice.
    â€œThird year in a row,” Jake said.
    â€œDo you suppose she’s all right?” Addie seemed concerned.
    â€œI think so,” Beezulsaid. “Zoë and Cynthia went to the ladies’ room with her.
    â€œShe’s okay, Addie,” Tretheway reassured his sister.
    â€œAnyway,” Garth nodded at Zulp, “the Chiefs not worrying about it.”
    They all looked across the table. Chief Zulp sat quietly, his eyes glazed, both his gloved hands clutching a half empty glass of gin.
    â€œDoesn’t seem too concerned,” Beezul observed.
    â€œEven peaceful,” Tretheway said.
    â€œToo friendly with John Barleycorn,” Garth giggled.
    â€œAlso the third year in a row,” Jake said.
    Even Addie had to smile. She looked around suddenly.
    â€œWhere’s Mary Dearlove?”
    â€œWhat’s the time?” Tretheway said abruptly.
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œThe time. Addie.” He pointed to her gold pendant watch.
    â€œIt’s about twenty minutes before midnight. I think.” She squinted at the antique numerals. “Maybe fifteen. I love this old watch but it’s not reliable.”
    â€œLooks nice, Addie,” Jake said.
    â€œLet’s go, Jake,” Tretheway said.
    â€œEh?”
    â€œWhere are you going?” Addie asked.
    â€œWe have a little business,” Tretheway stood up.
    â€œWe do?” Jake said.
    Tretheway glared at Jake. Jake stood up. He smoothed the front of his uniform and adjusted his party hat.
    Beezul assumed it was ARP business. “Can I help?” he asked.
    Tretheway shook his head. “We won’t be long. He started across the floor.
    â€œNow don’t miss the balloons.” Addie looked at Jake. “That’s at midnight.”
    Jake shrugged and hurried after his boss.
    â€œI’ll save you a red one,” Garth shouted after them.
    Jake caught up to