Takedown Twenty (Stephanie Plum 20)

I wormed my way through the vestibule, talking to people, keeping my eyes open for murderers. I squeezed through the door to Slumber Room No. 2 and began to make my way forward toward the open casket. I spoke to Lily Kolakowski, Ann Rhinehart, Maureen Labbe, and Sheryl Stoley. Several moderately drunk men hit on me, none of them on the good side of ninety. None of them knew Melvina Gillian.

I worked the crowd to the first row of chairs facing the deceased and picked out Grandma Mazur.

“Well, for goodness sakes,” she said, spotting me. “If I’d known you were coming I would have saved you a seat. I was here when they opened the doors, and I got a real good one. You sit up front like this and you don’t miss a thing. I even filled my purse with cookies on the way through the lobby.” She tapped her finger to her forehead. “Always thinking.”

“Did you know Melvina?”

“No. Never met her, but she looks pretty good for having been thrown into a Dumpster. They do a real good job with makeup here. I was worried they might have a closed casket, and you know how I hate that, but they got her set up so she’s almost lifelike.”

I scanned the room for Ranger but couldn’t find him.

“You should go take a look,” Grandma said to me. “I especially like the shade of lipstick they got on her. I might need a lipstick like that.”

Viewings weren’t my favorite thing, and looking at dead people ranked even further down the list.

“I don’t want to jump the line,” I said.

“Nobody will mind. It’s almost closing time and there’s only stragglers left. All the people who really had their heart into it have gone through.” Grandma got up and nudged me over to the casket. “This here’s my granddaughter,” she said to the man standing to one side. “She just wants to pay some fast respects.”

I nodded to him, murmured my condolences, and stepped away. When Grandma and I turned back to her chair it was filled.

“Hey,” Grandma said to the woman sitting in her chair. “That’s my seat.”

“You got up,” the woman said.

“Don’t matter,” Grandma said. “I only got up to pay respects, and now I’m back, and I want my chair.”

“You’ve been hogging this chair all night,” the woman said. “It’s my turn now.”

“Oh yeah?” Grandma said. “How’d you like a punch in the nose?”

The woman glared at Grandma. “How’d you like to spend the night in jail on an assault charge?”

“I’m a poor, frail old lady,” Grandma said. “Nobody’s going to arrest me on your say-so. Besides, my niece here is almost engaged to a cop.”

“Did you know Melvina?” I asked

the woman.

“I saw her at Bingo sometimes. Every Wednesday I go to Bingo at the Senior Center, and Melvina would almost always be there. She was a nice person, but she was blind as a bat. She couldn’t see a Bingo card if it was as big as a barn. Poor Lois Fratelli used to play Bingo there too. It’s like one by one all the Bingo players are ending up in a Dumpster.”

“The first one was Bitsy Muddle,” Grandma said. “She played Bingo at the firehouse on Thursdays. I sat next to her a couple times. She was a Bingo demon. Nobody could keep up with her. I don’t like to speak bad of the dead, but there were some who weren’t unhappy to learn she wouldn’t be at Bingo no more.”

“Did Bitsy ever play at the Senior Center?” I asked the woman.

“Not that I can remember. I didn’t know her.”

“She would have stood out,” Grandma said.

The lights dimmed, and bells softly chimed. The viewing was over. We filed out, and Grandma made a last stop at the cookie table.

“Do you need a ride home?” I asked her.

“No. I came with Eleanor Krautz. She was visiting Mort Kessler in Slumber Room No. 4. That’s way at the end of the hall, and Eleanor don’t move so fast since she had the hip replacement.”

I felt a hand at my waist, and Ranger leaned in to me. “If I have to spend another ten minutes here I’ll put a bullet in my brain.”

“Don’t you look nice in your suit,” Grandma said to Ranger. “Black is a good color on you.”