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Authors: Selma Eichler
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comprehending how she could ever have married someone like your cousin in the first place. Particularly since a woman who’s as attractive as Mrs. Vincent is must have had lots of opportunities to hook up with a more suitable man.”
“As I said, Frankie was charming,” Marilyn answered. “Probably one of the most charming men you’d ever meet. Also, Sheila was terribly vulnerable in those days.”
“What do you mean?”
There was a pause before Marilyn murmured reluctantly, “Oh, it was years ago.” Then, after an even lengthier pause: “I guess she wouldn’t mind my telling you about it at this point, though. You see, Sheila had broken an engagement a number of years before she met Frankie. It was a really devastating experience, too, and it took a long, long while before she’d even agree to go out with anyone else. But then when Frankie came along, well, I must say his timing was terrific.”
I wanted to get this straight. “You said she broke it off?”
Marilyn flushed all the way to the roots of her hair. “Umm, that’s not exactly how it happened.” I could hear her take in her breath before she confessed a few seconds later—and with obvious discomfort—“Ron was . . . he was the one who actually ended it.”
“Why was that—do you know?”
“Look, Detective Shapiro, I’m aware that you have to get all the facts, but I can’t imagine how something that occurred practically in the Dark Ages could have anything to do with Frankie’s murder.”
“Neither can I. Not at the moment, anyway. But there was a motive for that murder, and right now we don’t have a clue as to what it was—or who ended your cousin’s life. So we’re gathering every bit of information we can, and hopefully, we’ll start making some sense out of things. But we need for you to cooperate. Okay?”
“I still don’t see what—”
“Just bear with me,” I cajoled. And then when Marilyn nodded unhappily I put the question to her again. “Why did Mrs. Vincent’s fiancé end the engagement?”
She sighed. “All right. Ron Whitfield ran off and married Sheila’s older sister the day before the wedding.”
This news prompted me to attempt a whistle, but a pathetic nothing little sound was all I was able to produce. “Are they still married?”
“Separated. He moved out a few months ago. But if you’re thinking Ron killed Frankie so he could get back with Sheila, you’re way off base. Sheila would never take up with him again. Not after what he did to her.”
“Probably not. But you can’t really be sure.”
Marilyn’s chin jutted out to there . “I know Sheila,” she insisted.
“Are you certain she’d tell you if she had started seeing him again?”
For a fraction of a second Marilyn hesitated. Then she said emphatically, “Believe me, there isn’t a chance Sheila would have anything more to do with Ron.”
“Do you think Mrs. Vincent might be romantically involved with someone else?”
“She isn’t like that.”
“What about Frankie? Even if he wasn’t big on romance or sex or whatever, it’s possible, isn’t it, that he could have met someone who really appealed to him? And if that occurred, from what you’ve told me about your cousin, I don’t think that anything as insignificant as a marriage license would have kept him from pursuing the woman.”
“Listen, Frankie put more ladies in heat than I can count. But even when he was still single, he’d just slough them off. Except maybe on some rare occasions—probably when he got a really bad itch. In those instances, though, one or two dates seemed to be enough to take care of the itch. But once he got married, I can’t imagine Frankie’s having an affair. And it has nothing to do with any marriage license, either. It’s because he was so hell bent on making it in politics that nothing else mattered very much to him—certainly not enough to risk putting his future in jeopardy. Forget it,” Marilyn concluded firmly.
“As I said, Frankie was charming,” Marilyn answered. “Probably one of the most charming men you’d ever meet. Also, Sheila was terribly vulnerable in those days.”
“What do you mean?”
There was a pause before Marilyn murmured reluctantly, “Oh, it was years ago.” Then, after an even lengthier pause: “I guess she wouldn’t mind my telling you about it at this point, though. You see, Sheila had broken an engagement a number of years before she met Frankie. It was a really devastating experience, too, and it took a long, long while before she’d even agree to go out with anyone else. But then when Frankie came along, well, I must say his timing was terrific.”
I wanted to get this straight. “You said she broke it off?”
Marilyn flushed all the way to the roots of her hair. “Umm, that’s not exactly how it happened.” I could hear her take in her breath before she confessed a few seconds later—and with obvious discomfort—“Ron was . . . he was the one who actually ended it.”
“Why was that—do you know?”
“Look, Detective Shapiro, I’m aware that you have to get all the facts, but I can’t imagine how something that occurred practically in the Dark Ages could have anything to do with Frankie’s murder.”
“Neither can I. Not at the moment, anyway. But there was a motive for that murder, and right now we don’t have a clue as to what it was—or who ended your cousin’s life. So we’re gathering every bit of information we can, and hopefully, we’ll start making some sense out of things. But we need for you to cooperate. Okay?”
“I still don’t see what—”
“Just bear with me,” I cajoled. And then when Marilyn nodded unhappily I put the question to her again. “Why did Mrs. Vincent’s fiancé end the engagement?”
She sighed. “All right. Ron Whitfield ran off and married Sheila’s older sister the day before the wedding.”
This news prompted me to attempt a whistle, but a pathetic nothing little sound was all I was able to produce. “Are they still married?”
“Separated. He moved out a few months ago. But if you’re thinking Ron killed Frankie so he could get back with Sheila, you’re way off base. Sheila would never take up with him again. Not after what he did to her.”
“Probably not. But you can’t really be sure.”
Marilyn’s chin jutted out to there . “I know Sheila,” she insisted.
“Are you certain she’d tell you if she had started seeing him again?”
For a fraction of a second Marilyn hesitated. Then she said emphatically, “Believe me, there isn’t a chance Sheila would have anything more to do with Ron.”
“Do you think Mrs. Vincent might be romantically involved with someone else?”
“She isn’t like that.”
“What about Frankie? Even if he wasn’t big on romance or sex or whatever, it’s possible, isn’t it, that he could have met someone who really appealed to him? And if that occurred, from what you’ve told me about your cousin, I don’t think that anything as insignificant as a marriage license would have kept him from pursuing the woman.”
“Listen, Frankie put more ladies in heat than I can count. But even when he was still single, he’d just slough them off. Except maybe on some rare occasions—probably when he got a really bad itch. In those instances, though, one or two dates seemed to be enough to take care of the itch. But once he got married, I can’t imagine Frankie’s having an affair. And it has nothing to do with any marriage license, either. It’s because he was so hell bent on making it in politics that nothing else mattered very much to him—certainly not enough to risk putting his future in jeopardy. Forget it,” Marilyn concluded firmly.
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