Mrs. Fenniman was particularly fond of the line about local custom prevailing, since she considered herself, as the pioneer who’d introduced eXtreme croquet to Caerphilly, entitled to decide what was and wasn’t local custom.
“It would be different if the victim had been a player,” Mrs. Fenniman said. “Grounds for immediate expulsion.”
“But spectators are fair game, naturally,” I added.
“Hmph,” Mrs. Pruitt said, but she didn’t argue—only sailed off with her head held higher than usual.
“So when you start the tournament up again, which field will you use?” Tony, the redheaded student, was asking Mrs. Fenniman.
“The cow pasture, of course,” Mrs. Fenniman said.
“If Chief Burke lets us,” I added.
“Oh, I hope he does,” Rose Noire said, frowning in distress. “The cow pasture’s a much better field.”
“Much more interesting terrain,” Mrs. Fenniman agreed nodding.
“I prefer cows to sheep,” Rose Noire said. “The sheep are impossible to hit.”
“To hit?” I echoed, my mouth open. Here I’d been carefully concealing my accidental ricochet off the cow from her, because I thought she’d be appalled—and she was using the sheep for target practice?
“As walking wickets,” she said. “Most of them have wool so long, it drags on the ground. No way to get a ball through their legs. With the cows, it’s almost too easy.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Fenniman said. “If someone sheared them, the sheep would be much more interesting than cows. Doable, but not too easy.”
“You’re right!” Rose Noire exclaimed. “Let’s talk to Mr. Early!”
They hurried off.
Chapter Seventeen
I noticed that Tony, like me, was watching Rose Noire and Mrs. Fenniman with openmouthed astonishment.
“So how long have you been playing eXtreme croquet?” I asked.
“About a month now,” he said.
“Oh, really? For some reason, I thought it was longer. How did you get interested?”
“Bill saw a notice somewhere about your tournament and thought it would be a gas to get up a team,” he said. “Before that, we just mostly did the Morris dancing.”
Interesting. Bill, who of the three students seemed least interested in the game. Or, for that matter, in food, drink, and their beloved Morris dancing.
“Is he okay?” I asked. “He seems a little … quiet.”
“He’s been moody lately,” Tony said. “For the last week or so.”
A week. Which meant we couldn’t take his moodiness as a sign of guilt. Unless he’d been premeditating the murder for a week. Seemed farfetched, but I filed it away for later consideration.
Not that I couldn’t keep an eye on the moody Bill in the meantime, so I took my plate and sat down at the students’ table, opposite him and Graham. Tony followed me, and, thank goodness, Michael.
“So how is everyone this morning?” I asked.
“Brilliant,” Graham said, beaming at me.
“You have a very comfortable barn,” Tony said.
Bill glanced up and made an inarticulate noise before returning to the fascinating chore of rearranging the food on his plate.
“Chief Burke’s happier today,” Michael said. “Though I don’t think it has anything to do with the case.”
“Nothing to do with the case,” I said. “I suspect Dad gave him something for the itching.”
“Perhaps we ought to talk to him,” Tony said to Graham. “Meg’s father, I mean.”
“Perhaps we ought,” Graham said, squirming in his seat and reaching down to scratch his shin. “It’s not getting any better.”
“What’s not getting any better?” I asked. “Show me.”
Graham pulled down his long white sock to reveal a large patch of irritated red skin with a few telltale white blisters forming in the center.
“Yuck,” I said, fighting the impulse to draw back in revulsion. After all, the stuff wasn’t contagious, and I’d had worse-looking cases myself. “Yes, you’ve got poison ivy all right. Did you take a shower last night?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I took one this morning, but we’ve done quite a bit of rehearsing this morning. Morris dancing gets rather vigorous and—”
“I’m not complaining about how you smell,” I said. “I’m trying to find out if you’re still walking around with urushiol all over your shins, or, worse, on your hands.”
“Urushiol?” Graham repeated.
“It’s an oil contained in poison ivy, which is almost certainly what caused your rash,” I said.