Hard Drinking Detectives

It’s been a year since Margaret was murdered.  There have been a few leads, but nothing has really happened.  I’ve been looking at the staff pictures in old yearbooks to see if anyone looked like William Powell or Anthony Hopkins, who were her favorite actors (See Move Over, Miss Marple, August 4, 2013),  but I haven’t had much luck. 

Karen has been talking to the old ladies at the Methodist church.  “I asked them if Margaret had grown up in the church, and they said she came about twenty years ago.  They said she was ‘a very nice girl,’ but Marian, who is the biggest gossip, said that there was always something about her that you couldn’t put your finger on.  That could have her imagination after the fact, but I kind of doubt it.  Those old ladies are shrewd.”

Nikki snorted.  “Do they think you’re a nice girl?”

“Well, I am,” Karen said and took another sip of wine.  “Of course, Methodists don’t drink.”

“Are you going to quit drinking or quit the church?  The Episcopalians don’t have a problem with it.”

“No, I just won’t let them see me.  If I left, I’d feel like those spies who make friends with people they’re spying on when they really don’t like them and may end up killing them.  It wouldn’t be honest.”

I didn’t point out that maybe not letting people see you drink wasn’t honest.  I’d had two glasses of wine already and I didn’t think I could argue logically.

“Well,” Nikki said, “I stopped in at the liquor store in her neighborhood.  I didn’t expect anything, but the woman and I got to talking about what kind of wine to get, and I mentioned that I was going to have a dinner party, but it would be a little sad, because just a year ago, my friend Margaret had been murdered.”

I was impressed. “That’s really creative.”

“Thank you.  So the lady said, ‘Oh, yes, she used to come in here.  Very nice lady, but quiet.’  I asked her what she liked.  I guess as one of her friends I should have known, but she didn’t notice.  She said she liked wine and she sometimes got scotch.”

“So . . . “ I said, “she got that for her friend, so it probably was a man.  Women don’t like scotch.”  I felt relieved, since I don’t like scotch.

“You never know,” Nikki said.  “Maybe Lesbians aren’t so wussy.  But at least you’re in the clear.”

“Why don’t you ask Janet and Kate if any of their friends drink scotch?”

I sighed.  “You know, Karen,  every gay person in the world does not know every other gay person in the world or even in history.  Gay people get that all the time.”  I felt very worldly, and I threw in “And they find it very annoying,” even though I didn’t know that for sure.

“You’re lucky that she told you.  Liquor store clerks may have to sign confidentiality pledges.”

Then Karen got an idea.  “Maybe we could go to a Lesbian bar and get to talking.  Maybe someone might know Margaret.”

“First of all,” I said, “I don’t where any Lesbian bars are.  And second, I don’t think we could pass.  They might think . . . I don’t know what they’d think, but it wouldn’t be a nice thing to do.”

Nikki snorted again.  “Listen to you, the big sophisticated liberal.  You’re just afraid someone would hit on you.”

“No, I’m not!  I would just say I was in a relationship and change the subject.”

“Maybe you’re afraid no one would hit on you, and you’d feel rejected.”

By that time we had to go look for another box of Girl Scout cookies and some more Valentine candy, so I didn’t have to answer.  I was relieved about that, too.

 

What do the McDonalds say?

Charlie’s been blogging and writing in her diary for a year and a half.  Since we can’t do a clip show, here are some recurring McDonald moments.

 

Charlie says, “Before you can say ‘knife.’”

Betsey says “Moron.”

Josh says, “No way, Jose.”

Cilla says, “Please, please, please.”

Kate says, “How do you feel about that?”

Janet says, “Bless her heart.”

Jack says, "Damn religious foolishness."

Karen says, “More wine?”

Nikki says, “Don’t be such a churchlady.”

Aunt Pooh says, “Let’s have a nice cup of tea.”

Emily  says, "Do I need a makeover?"

Alice says, "Terrific!"

Michele says,  "Charlotte . .  ."                       I  

What does Ed say? 

 

 Thanks to Ylvis for” What Does the Fox Say?”

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Ed Weighs In (From Charlie's Diary)

Ed Googled “Jesus and pigs” and now he can’t figure out why Jesus did it.  And what about the owners of the herd?  That was their livelihood.  That wasn’t right.

I felt a certain satisfaction when he brought it up last night.  I’m usually the one who starts the discussions.  I didn’t comment on the validity of the question, partly because I’m too polite and also because it had occurred to me, too.

“Can you imagine what would happen today if someone did that to somebody’s business?”  he sputtered.

“They would have sued him before you could say knife.”

“Damn right.”

“Sorry, God.”

“Charlie, you don’t need to apologize to God for me.”

I didn’t say anything.

“All right.  I’m sorry, God.”

“I’m just surprised they didn’t take it to the Pharisees.  They would have loved it.”

“But the Pharisees wouldn’t have cared, because pigs were unclean anyway and the owners would have been Gentiles, who didn’t count.”

“But it would have been a chance to get Jesus.”

“Yeah, they missed an opportunity there.”

“Don’t mention that to Betsey.  She’ll be even more upset.”

Then Ed had an idea.  “Listen, Charlie.  Why don’t you go to Kate or Father Mike and tell them that you’re upset, because you are.  Then at least we’d have something to tell Betsey.”

“Why don’t you?”

“You’re more comfortable with clergy.”

“You’ve been a Christian longer than I have.”

I knew I’d have to be the one to do it.  But I was afraid I’d break down and say it was really Betsey.

Then I had a thought, “Don’t you remember anything about it?  After all those years in Sunday School?”

“I never paid attention.  I thought church was a bore.  By the time I got to college, I was practically an atheist.”

I was surprised to hear that. “But I met you at the college Episcopalian group.”

“Oh . . . well, I saw you around and I thought you were cute.  So I asked some people and somebody told me you went there.”

It was almost worth having the problem with Betsey to hear that.  But we still don’t know what to do.

Betsey's Rebellion, Part 3 (From Charlie's Diary)

Betsey has gone from feeling bad that she doesn’t like Jesus to being rebellious.  Fortunately, she isn’t questioning doctrine.  She just thinks Jesus is “mean.”  Cilla is very concerned and wants me to “please, please, please” call Kate.  I told her that we couldn’t tell anybody because Betsey had asked us not to.  Josh suggested that I could tell Kate I was asking for a friend.  I said that pastors get this a lot and can see through it.  Cilla said maybe Nikki could pretend it was her daughter and that she was embarrassed to talk to her own minister.  I said that not only would that be lying, but it would be getting another person to lie, which is even worse.

I always saw Betsey as the reserved, sensible child, but now I think she’s as intense as Cilla, but quiet about it, which can make a person even more intense.  I just don’t know how she’s going to get along in the world.