e9c12ac8d703d9a536f23183edf8b22c

“I agree. Let’s go and have a chat with Francis. See what he has to say.”

“Only we can’t say that we got it from Gran,” Odelia hastened to add. “He told her all this in confidence.”

“So we simply tell him we heard it from one of his parishioners. People are always looking and listening at keyholes, so let him think we found out that way.”

“Good enough for me,” said Uncle Alec.

“Oh, one more thing,” said Odelia. “And it’s a little delicate. Shanille told Max and the others that Father Reilly is actually Angel’s dad, and that he and Marigold have been a couple for the past twenty years.”

The Chief shrugged.“Tell me something I don’t know, honey.”

Odelia’s eyes went wide. “You knew?”

“Of course! This is a small town, and I’ve been chief of police longer than you’ve been alive.” He gestured to the door. “Now get out of here, you two. Find me this missing girl!”

20

When Marge got home from the library, she discovered that her husband had already arrived. She heard him pottering about upstairs and called out,“You’re home early!” No response came, so she proceeded into the kitchen and started transferring the groceries to their respective cupboards and fridge compartments. “I’ve picked up a few things!” she said, and when still no reply came from Tex, she figured he hadn’t heard, and decided to surprise him.

So she tiptoed up the stairs, and listened for a moment as she arrived on the landing. The sounds seemed to come from the bathroom, and she smiled to herself. He was probably taking a hot bath—he did that often when he wanted to relax after a long day.

So she carefully nudged open the door, and when she entered the bathroom was much surprised to find her husband in the bath, scooping a big helping of mayonnaise from a large jar and rubbing it on his head. Next to the bath, a box full of similar jars stood.

Mayonnaise was dripping down his face, and the doctor was simply covered in the stuff.

At the foot of the bath, Brutus and Harriet were sitting, staring at Tex with wide-eyed concentration.

“What are you doing?” Marge asked.

“Oh, hey, honey,” said her husband of twenty-five years. “I’m rubbing mayonnaise on my head,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world!

“He’s been at it for an hour,” Harriet said, not taking her eye off Tex for even a second.

“So far he’s used up two pots of mayonnaise,” said Brutus. “And I think he’s ready for a third.”

“But… why?” asked Marge, and for a moment that ancient fear crossed her mind: that her husband had gone stark-raving mad!

“Well, you’ll remember I asked you about my hair loss this morning?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And your mom was so kind to offer me some advice?”

“Oh, no.”

“She told me how Dick Bernstein and Rock Horowitz, her good friends from the senior center, both still have full heads of hair, in spite of the fact that they’re both a good deal older than she is. So I went over there this afternoon, to ask them what their secret is.”

“And what did they say?”

“Well, I only talked to Dick, but he assured me that this is the big secret.” He held up the empty jar of mayonnaise. “Mayonnaise contains all the nutrients your healthy scalp needs. And you don’t even have to go to the pharmacy to pick it up—you can find it in any supermarket! Both Dick and Rock have been applying this remarkable miracle cure for years. Oh, and Dick says mayonnaise has plenty of other advantages, too. When ingested, it invigorates. Mayonnaise has it all—the original wonder potion.” He licked his lips. “It even tastes good.” He gave his wife a cheerful smile, somewhat hampered by the fact that his face was covered in the sticky dressing. “You should have seen Dick’s hair, Marge. Thick and shiny and luxuriant. Not a bald spot in sight! I think it’s the eggs,” he now said as he scooped another large helping from the jar and splotched it on his head.

“Okay,” said Marge. She felt compelled to sit—her legs had gone a little wobbly—as if the world had suddenly turned into a carnival ride that shifts and shimmies underfoot and is designed to make you lose your balance.

“Dick literally said to me: have you ever seen a bald chicken? And you know, I’ve thought about this, and I can’t say that I have. Have you ever seen a bald chicken, Marge?”

“No, honey,” she said. “I’ve never seen a bald chicken.”

“Well, then. That proves it.” And he started massaging the mayonnaise into his scalp with vigorous movements.

“Has he finally gone mad, Marge?” asked Harriet.

“I’m not sure,” said Marge.

“He actually makes a valid point,” said Brutus. “I’ve never seen a bald chicken either.”

“No, me neither,” Harriet admitted.

“So maybe he’s onto something here, sugar buns.”

“Oh, and Marge?” said her husband as she made to leave.

“Yes, Tex?” she said.

“Could you ask the cats what their secret is?”

“Their secret?”

“For not losing their hair. I’d be very interested to find out.”

“Yes, dear,” she said, then tottered out of the bathroom, followed by Harriet and Brutus.

“The secret is that we don’t worry,” said Harriet.