Earl looked out in the hall to make sure no one was watching. “You better come in and sit down. I’d hate for you to pass out before you had a chance to share your wisdom.”

Jenny made a beeline for the couch. “By the way, have you found a new place to live yet?”

Earl held up a hand. “One thing at a time. You were going to tell me about a murder—?”

“Oh—it was so simple! You’re going to kick yourself when you hear this.” She glanced back at the man in the wheelchair, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I—I—”

Earl motioned for her to sit. “Just tell me. I can see you’re about to explode.”

“Well.” Jenny put her hands on her knees and took a second to collect herself. “You know how we were in the recreation center on Saturday afternoon, right? There was the bowling tournament, and there was, I think, a shuffleboard or something, and there was the billiards table—”

“A room full of people leading rich, active lives.” Earl rubbed his hands. Would the soreness ever go away? “Where are you going with this?”

“That’s where George Kent was murdered.”

“But we saw him later, at the party.”

Jenny clapped her hands together. “Look, I know that was where we saw him, er—” She paused.

Earl looked at her. “Collapse?”

“Um, yes,” she said, relieved to have gotten past the indelicacy. “I know that we saw—that—happen at the party. But the murder actually took place earlier that day. In the recreation center.”

“Far be it from me to point out the implausibility of your theory,” Earl grumbled. “But there was a room full of witnesses. Somebody would have seen something.”

“And that would be different from your own theory, how?”

Earl set his jaw. “Go on.”

“It was the playing cards.” Jenny, glowing, paused to let the declaration sink in.

Earl squinted. “You’re not serious?”

“Yes!” Jenny pantomimed the card game. “You deal a hand of cards. Is that what you call it? A hand? Anyway, the cards are razor sharp. George Kent gets a paper cut, the card has been poisoned,  and the poison goes right into his blood.”

Earl locked his fingers together. “And you’re saying that’s why he keeled over at the party?”

“He went right to the party after that. The poison had enough time to course through his system—”

“Without everyone else at the card table being cut and poisoned, too?”

“Not all the cards were poisoned. Just the ones the dealer gives to Mr. Kent.”

“And how does the dealer not cut himself on the deadly playing cards?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wears gloves.”

Earl looked at her doubtfully. “I see.”

“It explains everything.”

Earl folded his hands. “Of course, you’re ignoring the central problem. George Kent didn’t even stop at the card table.”

“But—”

“We saw him when he came in. He walked around the room once, he stopped at the billiard table, then he came to where we were at the, um, bowling tournament.”

“Huh.” Jenny’s shoulders slumped, and she slid back on the couch. “It was so simple.”

“Sorry to pop your bubble there.”

“Wait.” Her eyes lit up, and she sat forward again. “You just said it.”

“I did?”

“It was the chalk.”

“The chalk? We’re talking about chalk now?”

“Like you said, he stopped at the billiard table. They have chalk, right?”

“I guess.”

“The victim chalks up his cue or puts the chalk on his hands. He does something with the chalk.”

“And it’s been poisoned?”

She pointed, grinning. “Exactly! The chalk has been poisoned, and it gets into his skin or his pores or something like that. Or maybe he breathes it.” Jenny looked at him expectantly.

Earl took in a deep breath and let it out. He gripped the wheels on his chair and headed for the kitchen. “You want something to drink? Water? Juice?”

“No thank you. So, what do you think?”

Earl got a glass and pulled the grapefruit juice out of the fridge. He made a point of calculating how much time had passed since he took his meds.

He heard Jenny’s anxious voice from the other room. “Mr. Walker?”

Earl took his juice back to the living room. He smiled at her then took a swig. It was cold and bracing. He swallowed then let out a satisfied sigh.

Her expectant face whittled to disappointment. “You don’t think it was the chalk either, do you?”

Earl looked at her with pity. “All those other people at the table, all using the chalk. And the idea it was an airborne poison? That’s like a biological weapon or something. You would have poisoned the entire room.”

“Oh.” She was deflated. “Dumb, huh?”

“Unless”—Earl scratched the side of his nose—. “the killer did poison the entire room.”

Jenny frowned. “You think so? But we were all there.”

“What if Kent was allergic to something? I heard about someone who dropped dead on an airplane because someone else opened a bag of peanuts.”

“Really?”

“He was so severely allergic that just the peanut dust in the air killed him.”

“Wow.”

“Wait.” Earl shook his head. “No, no, no. That’s crazy.”

They sat in silence. Finally Jenny said, “We should still go to the rec center and investigate.”

“Investigate what? The random allergies? The chalk? The cards?”

She shrugged. “All of it.”

“Absolutely not. We’ll look like idiots.”

“What would be the harm?” She looked at him. “I mean, we could at least go to the recreation center and look around, couldn’t we?”

Earl mumbled, “Maybe I can find Anderson there.”

Jenny leaned forward. “Who's that?”

“The recreation center, huh? Well, let’s go!”

He got to the door and outside before Jenny got up from the couch. “Hey,” she called after him, “wait up!”

Already out in the common garden, Earl smiled to himself. But despite the cramps in his hands, he kept going. After all, Jenny had two good legs. She could no doubt catch up.

The sun in his face, Earl squinted as he smelled the honeysuckle. It still made him think of Barbara.
And then he thought of the way he had treated Gloria. He was ashamed. But he was too embarrassed to think how to make it right.

Earl almost made it straight to the recreation center. Only one wrong turn along the way. The recreation center was as enormous as he remembered. Light burst through huge windows, casting shadows across the dark red carpet. The big room was rollicking—while some residents relaxed in comfy chairs, chatting or watching television, many others were engaged in one of several activities, from darts to cards to billiards to board games.

Jenny was almost jumpy with enthusiasm. “So, do we start with the billiard table or what?”

Earl, searching the faces in the room, turned and frowned at her. “Huh?”

She motioned with her hand. “Or should we start with the cards? If it was the cards, do you think they would still be here somewhere?”

“It wasn’t the cards.”

“I’m just saying, as long as we’re here—”

“It’s not the cards.”

“Well, what about the billiards then?”

“What about them?”

“Do we start with the sticks? Or do we find the rosin cube? Is that what you call the chalk? Rosin?”

“Um—” Earl was half listening, still trying to find his man. “What?”

“Do we sneak the chalk out; do we need the sticks—”

“What are you talking about?”

Jenny leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “I don’t think they’re going to let us conduct forensic tests here on-site. So we need to get what evidence we can and take it to some remote location for—”

“I wasn’t aware we were qualified to conduct forensic tests at all.”

“Well, I was talking about having the professionals—”

“Fine.” Earl saw Dandy Anderson hanging out by the dart game at the far wall. Glancing back at Jenny, Earl said in a conspiratorial manner, “Listen, I think your best bet is to check the eight ball. It might have a bomb in it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re kidding, right?”

Earl wheeled himself across the room. He passed a card table where they seemed to be playing Go Fish. He chuckled to himself and kept going.

Reaching his destination, he found a huddle of men gathered around a line made on the carpet by a crooked piece of duct tape. Earl recognized two of them: Mark Conroy and Dandy Anderson.

Conroy noticed Earl and grinned. “Hey, man, you came back.”

“I guess so.”

Conroy turned to Anderson. “This is Carl—”

“Earl.”

“Earl, from the bowling tournament. Remember?”

Anderson nodded at Earl. “Oh, sure. Here for a game of darts?”

Earl waved a hand. “No, I don’t think so. I’m surprised they let you have such sharp objects in the room like that.”

“These?” Conroy held up one of the darts to reveal its flat Velcro tip. “The worst they can do is stick to your suede shoes.”

“Well, anyway,” Earl said, “I’d have to stand for that, wouldn’t I?”

Anderson leaned in. “You don’t have to throw the darts to play along, if you know what I mean?”

Earl said, “I don’t think I—”

“He’s not betting with you, Dandy,” Conroy cut in. He turned to Earl. “His leg medicine makes him gamble.”

Anderson huffed, “But—”

“Besides,” Conroy asked the man, “aren’t you in the hole enough already?”

“My luck is going to turn around. You’ll see.” Anderson turned to Earl, as if his opinion mattered. “You’ll see.”

Earl felt awkward. He had hoped to catch Anderson alone, but now it seemed like this was his only opening. “Maybe we could discuss this,” Earl said. “Privately.”

Anderson and Conroy exchanged a look. Conroy shrugged and went back to the game, where the others were waiting for him to take his turn.

Earl wheeled a few feet away. He stopped in front of the big glass doors to the outside.

Anderson followed, doing his little trademark dance shuffle the whole way. When they were ready to talk, he was practically drooling. “So, how much you thinking? Twenty bucks? A hundred?”

“I’m thinking about fifteen thousand, two hundred dollars.”

Anderson jolted. His eyes almost popped out of his head. “W–what? You really want to gamble for so much money?”

“Not really. But I thought it was the sort of numbers you liked to play.” Earl nodded at the man’s legs. “So, you used to be some kind of dancer?”

“Still am.” Anderson crossed his legs and spun around, ending with a bow. “You’re looking at the 1969 regional champion.”

“Really. And that would be the regional champion of—?”

“Absolutely. The call will come any day now.”

Earl squinted. “The call from who?”

“Hollywood, m’boy, Hollywood.” Anderson tipped an invisible hat. “They’re always on the lookout for professional dancers. I just have to keep in shape and listen for that ol’ telephone.”

Earl was flabbergasted. Did any of these people listen to themselves? He hoped he wasn’t as delusional. He said, for lack of any better idea of a response, “I guess that’s why you take the medicine.”

“Yep. Gotta keep the legs strong and stable.”

“Even though it has such bizarre side effects.”

Anderson hesitated. “Well, you take the good with the bad.”

“Tell me, how bad is it?”

“How bad is what?”

“Your gambling problem. When Kent died, did it wipe your slate clean?”

Anderson narrowed his eyes. Licked his lips. They were trembling. “What business is it of yours?”

“You were with Kent at the party before he collapsed. You gave him the cigar.”

“No I didn’t. He must have had it with him.”

“Well, then you lit it.”

“I did not!” Anderson’s face got soft and puffy, like he was near tears. “I didn’t. I tried, but I couldn’t.” He wiped an eye. “I wasn’t the only one who owed him money. You don’t know what you’re poking into.”

“Tell me.” Earl set his jaw. “What am I poking into?”

“You don’t know.” The man was wiping both eyes now. “I’ve got a problem. I’m not responsible.”

Earl nervously looked around the room. The card players were breaking up. The billiard players were setting up another game. At the dart game, Conroy was joined by a woman and a small boy. Was Anderson going to make a scene in front of all these people?

“Once we’re all scattered,” Anderson was blubbering now, “the whole operation will be gone.”

“Wait.” Earl snapped back to attention. “What did you say?”

“Well, we’ll all be gone then, won’t we?” Anderson’s voice was stronger now. “Then it’ll all be over.”

“Go back a second.” Earl was sure he’d missed something. “What did you—”

“Well, gentlemen,” a voice interrupted them, “you missed your chance.” Conroy had approached them, a woman and child in tow. “The game’s over. Nothing left to bet on, I’m afraid.”

Earl and Anderson exchanged a look. Earl said, “Just as well, I guess. I don’t have a lot of money to throw around.” He looked at the young woman with Conroy then at the small boy. He tried to think of something friendly to say. All he could come up with was “Hello.”

The boy hid behind the woman’s leg.

Conroy said, “This is my daughter, Clara Johnson.”

She offered a hand to Earl. “How do you do?”

Earl smiled and shook her hand. “So you’re the one who donated the kidney?”

She gave him a funny look. “Yes. Yes I did.”

“Your father mentioned it. That was a brave thing that you did.”

“Thank you.”

Conroy added, “And that young’un there is my grandson, Marky.”

Earl waved at the boy, who continued to hide behind his mother. The grown-ups laughed.

Conroy bent down for the boy. “Hey, what’s that behind your ear?” Conroy’s eyes opened wide—an expression matched by the expectant child’s—as he displayed empty palms. Then he quickly snapped a hand toward the boy’s ear and brought out a shiny quarter. “Did you lose this?”

“Yeah, Gampa!” The boy eagerly snatched the coin with tiny fingers.

Conroy chuckled and tousled the boy’s hair. He looked up at his daughter. “Why don’t you all head on over to the cafeteria. I’ll catch up.” They exchanged a kiss and she and the boy took off.

Then Conroy said, “Hey, Dandy, can I speak to Carl—”

“Earl.”

“—Earl here, alone a second?”

Anderson looked at Conroy uncertainly, then he gave Earl a wicked look and left them.

“Whew,” Conroy said, taking the handles on the back of Earl’s chair. “I don’t know what you said to him, but he was not happy.”

“He’s not the most stable man I’ve met. But he did say something very strange about some kind of ‘operation.’ Would you happen to know what—”

“Listen.” Conroy maneuvered Earl by the far wall. “I just wanted to speak to you privately. Dandy is a very emotional person.”

“I can see that.”

“Don’t take any of what he says personally. The medicine he takes for his legs really does a number on his personality. Gloria was saying how nervous you get around new people—”

“I can handle myself. Wait—Gloria said what?”

“Nothing bad. She just said—” Conroy glanced toward the entrance, then dove for Earl. “Look out!”
He tackled Earl hard and the chair turned over, the two men tumbling by the wall. There was the loud chok sound of something sticking in the wall.

“W–what happened?” His head spinning, Earl glanced toward the entrance of the recreation center. From this vantage point, it was a giant tilted angle. A crowd was formed, looking curiously at the two old men embracing on the floor.

“Someone just tried to kill you.” Conroy reached over and pulled something out of the wall. It was a big knife.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Jenny had run up to them, frightened.

Conroy pointed to the exit. “Someone threw a knife at us!”

She nodded and ran after the phantom. Earl called out to her, but he couldn’t stop her. He grumbled, “She’s going to get hurt.”

“I’ll help her,” Conroy said. “You going to be okay?”

Earl nodded. Conroy darted for the exit. Leaning on one elbow, Earl looked at the big knife lying on the floor, then he squinted at the exit. Someone had thrown that knife across the room, and it had lodged in that wall right behind him.

It was a room full of people. It could have been a stupid prank. It could have been meant for someone else. It could have been a coincidence.

Earl wasn’t buying any of that.