Poppy’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Denham,” he announced.
Her eyebrows beetled, and her smile faded. “Mrs. Denham? Our custodian? Simon, what in the world—”
“Hear me out.” For confidence, he consulted his notes one last time. “Please.”
Pinching her mouth shut, Poppy waved him on.
“Mrs. Krackel left a horrible mess for Mrs. Denham and the other custodians to clean every day. From what I understand, Mildred refused to either clean it herself or allot sufficient class time so students could do it instead.”
Poppy inclined her head. “I’ve heard the same.”
“The rest is sheer speculation, but it would explain everything.” He tapped his forefinger on the table. “I think Mrs. Denham finally decided she’d had enough. So she confronted Mrs. Krackel one afternoon and threatened to stop cleaning the classroom unless Mildred or her students did some of the work themselves.”
Poppy’s brows were now arching toward her hairline, but she didn’t interrupt.
“Mildred refused. Laughed her off, or pulled rank. And then—” He spread his hands. “Mrs. Denham made her stand.”
Her lips twitched again, possibly at the portentous note in his voice. “Go on.”
This final twist in the story, he’d considered for the first time last night. However improbable, it would explain everything. The whispered comments, the horror-filled half-glances toward the table, the unceremonious nature of Mildred’s departure. All of it.
“One evening, after Mildred left for the day, Mrs. Denham left a warning. Right here.” He dipped his chin to indicate the table where he’d sat every day, the table all the students seemed to avoid so assiduously. “The custodial equivalent of a horse’s head.”
“Wow,” Poppy murmured. “Hadn’t expected aGodfatherreference.”
He barreled on, ignoring her. “Maybe a pool of red paint, splattered to resemble blood. Maybe a clay figure stabbed with a carving tool. Something so egregious, so horrifying, Mrs. Krackel had to take action. So she went to Principal Dunn.”
“Who said…what?” Poppy’s head was tilted as she considered his theory. “Since Mrs. Denham still works here, and Mildred doesn’t, I assume Mildred didn’t receive the response she anticipated?”
“Exactly.” He smiled at her, pleased by her quick understanding. “Tess backed Mrs. Denham, not Mrs. Krackel. At which point, Mildred quit and left the school in a huff, never to return. Mystery solved.”
He sat back in smug satisfaction, waiting for praise of his investigative prowess.
It didn’t come.
“Um, Simon.” Poppy’s voice was cautious, its tone familiar. Not quite pitying, but not quitenotpitying either. “One small problem with your theory. Well, several rather large problems, actually.”
Oh, God. He was going to feel like a fool again. He could already tell. “Yes?”
Poppy held up a finger. “First of all, if Mrs. Denham had made that kind of violent threat with Mildred’s art supplies, she would no longer be employed at our school. No matter how much our principal might sympathize with the custodial staff or loathe Mrs. Krackel.”
Dammit. He’d hoped she wouldn’t pinpoint the weakest link in his chain of events so quickly. But the woman made murder dioramas, for heaven’s sake. Ofcourseshe’d immediately spotted the glaring flaw in his theory.
Another finger. “Second, Mildred did make lots of enemies here. But Mrs. Denham wouldn’t have done anything to threaten or sabotage—”
“Mr. Burnham is right. At least to a certain extent.” The familiar voice came from the open doorway. “I loathed that woman. So did the rest of the custodial staff.”
Mrs. Denham stood by her cart, unbowed and unapologetic.
At the sight of their visitor, Poppy turned a shade of red he’d never witnessed in person before. “Mrs. Denham, I’m so sorry. Simon doesn’t know the circumstances of Mildred’s departure, so he suspects—”
“Oh, there was definitely foul play involved, just like he said.” A slow, evil smile emphasized the wrinkles on the older woman’s face. “I know that for a fact.”
Poppy stared openmouthed at Mrs. Denham. “But—but she was caught screwing the head of security in her classroom after hours! By the superintendent! Who was leading VIPs on a tour of the school! How can that possibly be the result of anything but her own bad judgment?”
Simon’s own eyebrows flew to his hairline.
