Vanessa turned to him in alarm. “Don’t say that! Nobody’s heard from Johnny since I saw him with those scary guys.”

“It’s all right, Vanessa.” Marc was still grinning. “I told you I showed this unit, and I would have noticed if Johnny’s body was here.”

“You didn’t open every closet, did you?”

Hal laughed. “If Johnny’s body was stuffed in a closet, we wouldn’t be able to get within a hundred yards of this place. Relax, child-bride. I guarantee there’s no body here.”

“But how can you tell?”

Hal groaned. “Use your head, Vanessa. Have you ever smelled hamburger that’s gone bad?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Let’s change the subject,” Walker interrupted, noticing that Ellen was turning pale. “Is the electricity still on? We didn’t bring flashlights.”

“Hold on.” Moira patted the wall until she found the switch and the hallway flooded with light. “Does anyone have a game plan?”

Jayne shook her head. “I thought we’d just start stuffing things in boxes.”

Moira shook her head. “That’s not the way to do it. I suggest we split up into groups. Do we have packing materials?”

“Johnny said he’d leave boxes and tape in the hall closet.” Jayne opened it and looked inside. “Yup. Everything’s here. Even a couple of wardrobe boxes and a dish pack.”

Moira took charge. “There’s a lot to do so let’s get our uh . . . tails in gear. Jayne and Paul? Why don’t you pack up the music rooms since you know about pianos and musical instruments. Ellen and Walker can help you. Grace and I’ll take the living room. Marc? You start in on the master bedroom and Laureen and Alan can pack up the kitchen.”

“Why do people always put me in the kitchen?” Laureen complained.

Alan put his arm around her shoulders. “Because you’re the expert. You’ll know what to pack and what to throw out.”

“That’s right,” Moira confirmed. “No insult intended, Laureen, but I wouldn’t know a truffle from a trifle and neither would anyone else in this group. Clayton and Rachael can take their pick of the rooms that are left over. And then they can wander around and poke their noses into everything, since they’re the lawyers.”

Rachael laughed. “That’s your conception of lawyers? People who poke their noses into everything?”

“Well, I didn’t mean it quite that way.” Moira grinned. “Vanessa and Hal? You’d better take the den. There’s a lot to pack in there. And if anyone finds a clue to Johnny’s whereabouts, just holler.”

Grace looked impressed. “You’re really organized, aren’t you, Moira?”

“Just used to directing my work crews. Is everyone set?”

Hal pulled Vanessa toward the den. “Come on, we’d better get started.”

“But they never start with the den on Columbo!”

Hal propelled her through the door. “Johnny practically lived in that room. If he left an address or a telephone number, it might be in there.”

“Oh.” Vanessa looked slightly mollified, but she turned to deliver a parting shot. “At least we didn’t get the kitchen. Laureen’ll probably dig through the garbage to find out what Johnny had for his last meal.”

Laureen started to sputter and Alan put his arm around her. “Easy, honey. Vanessa’s just jealous, that’s all.”

“Of what?”

“Of you. You’ve got a husband who’s crazy about you. That’s more than she’ll ever have. And she’s too young and too stupid to understand why.”

Laureen looked up at him suspiciously. “Do you really think she’s jealous of me?”

“Of course. All she has going for her is her looks. You’ve got that plus a lot more.”

Grace looked pleased as Laureen and Alan headed for the kitchen. “How sweet! They’re actually holding hands. Think Laureen’s finally forgiven him?”

“Maybe.” Rachael shrugged. “And maybe not, but it’s a good sign. Come on, Clay. I’m beginning to think Vanessa’s right. Something really could have happened to Johnny. Let’s start with the bathrooms.”

“The Harris case. Good thinking, honey.”

“Hold it a second.” Moira stopped them. “What’s the Harris case?”

“It got a lot of press last fall in the scandal sheets,” Clayton explained. “Harris was a doctor in Boston. His wife’s friends got worried when she didn’t show up for her bridge club a couple of weeks in a row and called the police. Dr. Harris told them that his wife had packed up all her clothes and left while he was at the hospital. He said he was so embarrassed that he hadn’t told anyone. Since it was common knowledge that Mrs. Harris had been involved with several other men, the police were ready to file a missing person report and close their investigation.”

Rachael picked up on the story. “Then some smart woman detective searched the house and found his wife’s contacts in a bathroom drawer.”

“That was the turning point.” Clayton took over the story. “The optometrist confirmed that Mrs. Harris was too vain to wear glasses and she was legally blind without her contact lenses. It was so unlikely she would leave them behind that the police reopened their investigation.”

“Did they eventually locate Mrs. Harris?” Paul asked.

“Oh, yes.” Rachael nodded. “Dr. Harris had used some kind of acid to dissolve her flesh. Her skeleton was hanging in his lab at the hospital.”

Jayne stuck close to Paul as they entered the huge music room. Even though she was sure they wouldn’t find Johnny’s skeleton, the Harris story had still unnerved her. Then Paul flicked on the lights and the sight of Johnny’s collection took her mind off her concern. He had twenty museum-quality pieces in his studio, all set off with spotlights.

“Look at this!” Walker walked over to the huge upright mahogany cabinet in the center of the room. “It’s awfully big. Did people actually have these in their homes?”

Jayne shook her head. “They were usually in restaurants or hotel lobbies. Do you want me to show you how it works?”

Walker nodded and Jayne flicked the switch. The two antique lamps on either side of the mahogany cabinet began to glow and the doors in the center slid open to expose a full-size piano keyboard. “This is an orchestrion. It mechanically replicates the sound of an entire orchestra. The music is recorded on a roll, just like a player piano, and those little levers behind the glass activate the whole thing. I think it plays a Strauss waltz, but I don’t remember which one.”

Ellen laughed in delight as the orchestrion began to play. “Tales from the Vienna Woods. I never could play that last part right.”

“You played the piano?” Jayne turned to her in surprise.

“I tried to play the piano,” Ellen corrected. “I was so awful that I finally convinced my mother that lessons were a waste of money.”

“Were you awful on purpose?”

“Of course not!” Ellen stopped and looked slightly guilty. “Well . . . maybe I didn’t exactly apply myself. It made me mad when I had to stay inside to practice. My mother was raised in the old school. She believed a girl should learn to embroider, play a musical instrument, and draw. I managed to learn how to draw, but that’s only one out of three.”

“That’s not a bad average.” Walker’d been around long enough to realize that Ellen had made a career out of selling herself short. “As Marc would say, they sure won’t kick you out of the majors for batting three thirty-three.”

“He’s right, Ellen, honey.” Jayne waited until the music had stopped, then flicked a switch and another set of lamps on the piece next to the orchestrion began to glow. It looked like an ordinary piano, but a glass case containing three violins was built in above the keyboard. “This one’s called a Hupfeld Phonolizst-Violina. It’s not quite as impressive as the orchestrion, but it’s really very complicated. See those mechanical arms holding the violin bows? Now watch. And listen.”

They were all silent as the mechanical arms began to draw the bows across the strings. Ellen sighed enviously. “Isn’t that wonderful? It never makes a mistake. What is it playing?”