One day, Bitsy plops a dead pigeon on the bookstore’s counter. She claims Douglas “Duckie’’ Everett, a local guy turned rich by developing property into strip malls, has poisoned the pigeons in the park. Soon after the poisoning, the town’s welcome sign is defaced with green paint. Some crackpot fills a dumpster with manure, and an entire lawn and garden is sprayed with weed killer, spelling out obscenities. A fishpond blows up. Three goats dance on a police car. No one knows if the escalating acts of vandalism are the work of bored kids or a scuzzball with a grudge, or even if the incidents are related. Later, there’s a fire at Bertie’s Bank Tavern, a popular local restaurant, where there’s a death that turns out to be a murder. The police seem ineffective, and, eventually Margaret, prodded by Bitsy to be more civic-minded, decides to investigate. Actually, Margaret keeps lists of suspects and questions and insists she’s not investigating. It takes her a while to start her inquiry, but as interest in her lists heats up, she’s left with no choice.
MacRae gives Margaret, who narrates the book, a whimsical and often witty way of saying things. Margaret, for instance, doesn’t breathe in diesel fumes; she sucks in a “lungful of eau de diesel.’’ She doesn’t go to the restroom, “she skips to the loo.’’ One of her lists is headed Dichotomy of Vandalism “because it’s not often I get the chance to use the word dichotomy, much less put it in bold black letters at the top of the page with such a flourish.’’
