Murder With Peacocks(49)

Wednesday, June 22



I got an early start and had crammed a truly awesome number of caterer and florist inspections into the morning. Not to mention half a dozen unsuccessful attempts to reach Mrs. Thornhill, the feckless calligrapher. Although still suspicious of what Dad was up to, I was just as happy to have heard nothing about homicide for several days. I was feeling optimistic about the possibility of getting back on schedule when Eileen showed up unexpectedly to have lunch with us. I immediately wondered what she was up to.

"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" Eileen said, finally. Here comes the bombshell, I told myself.

"I'm going in to Be-Stitched for a fitting. My dress for Samantha's wedding."

"I'll go in with you," Eileen said. "I have something I want to ask Michael about."

Doubtless another sign of rampant paranoia on my part, but on the way, as Eileen chattered happily about Renaissance music, I worried about what she wanted to ask Michael. Doubtless some new scheme that would make more work for me. I would have interrogated her then and there, but thought it might be more tactful to wait and see. Besides, I felt sure Michael would help me out if she pulled anything really outrageous.

"Michael," she said, as we came in, "I've had the most wonderful idea, and I wanted to see if it was okay with you first."

"What is it?" he asked, surprised and a little wary. Not actually suspicious, but then he didn't know Eileen as well as I did.

"I'm going to have everyone in costume," she announced happily. "I want to see if you can make the costumes if necessary."

"I thought we already were having everyone in costume," Michael said. "Bride, groom, maid of honor, best man, father of the bride, ring bearer, flower girl, four ushers, and four bridesmaids. And your cousin the priest. The musicians, you said, would be providing their own costumes. Who else is there?"

"Eileen, not the guests," I said.

"Yes!" She beamed. "Won't it be splendid?"

"Oh, God, no," I moaned.

"How many people have you invited?" Michael asked.

"Six hundred and seven," I said. "At last count."

"Of course they won't all come," she said, looking a little hurt and puzzled at our obvious lack of enthusiasm. "And some of them already have Renaissance costumes."

"How many?" I asked. "A dozen or two? That still leaves several hundred costumes, even if half the guest list doesn't show up."

"Well, yes," Eileen admitted.

"Have you considered how much it would cost for guests to buy, rent, or make their costumes? It could be several hundred dollars apiece. I don't think you can ask people to spend that much just to come to your wedding. On top of what they'll already have to spend in airfare and hotels. A lot of people would stay away and feel hurt. Unless you're thinking of sticking your father with the bill. I'm sure he'd like that; feeding and clothing the multitudes."

"Maybe we could rent a bunch of costumes from a theater," Eileen said, looking hopefully at Michael.

"I suppose you might be able to," Michael said, "But you certainly wouldn't want to."

"Why not?"

"Most theatrical costumes are designed to look good from a distance," he said. "Up close, the way guests would see each other, they don't look so hot, even if they're brand new, and if they've been used they could be more than a little ragged around the edges. Also, up close, no matter how well cleaned they were, you'd probably be able to tell that people had been wearing them and sweating under hot lights for hours on end. You'd smell more than just the greasepaint." Bravo, Michael, I thought.

"Perhaps we could send them all patterns," she suggested. "So they could make their own costumes."

"I'm sure the few who know how and have the time have other things they'd like to be sewing," I said.

"I'm sure there must be some way we can manage it," Eileen said, turning stubborn.

"Tell you what: let's ask Mother," I said. "She's the best one I know to tell us whether it's suitable and if so, how to get it done. Michael, why don't you let Eileen take a look at how her dress is coming while I call to see if Mother's home or at Mrs. Fenniman's."

Eileen cheered up again at this, and obediently followed Michael back to the sewing room while I phoned home to enlist Mother.

"She's going to try the dress on while she's here," Michael said, reappearing a few minutes later.

"Good," I said. "That will give Mother time to round up Mrs. Fenniman and Pam and meet us back at the house to talk Eileen out of it."

"Are you sure they'll talk her out of it?" Michael asked. "No offense, but it seems to be just the sort of ... charmingly eccentric idea your mother would encourage."