Read Online Murder Can Spoil Your Appetite by Selma Eichler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Selma Eichler
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“There’s no way Frankie would have even considered playing around. Especially since he was never into the pleasures of the flesh that much to begin with.”
Marilyn certainly sounded as if she knew what she was talking about, all right. Still, that didn’t mean she had as much insight into her cousin as she was convinced she did. Which is why I wasn’t ready to abandon the idea of a spurned lover or a jealous husband’s doing Frankie in. At least, not yet. At any rate, there was a brief silence as I thought all this over, with Lou apparently similarly occupied. Marilyn wasted no time in using the vacuum to advantage.
“Listen, if there’s nothing else you want to ask me . . .” She was already on her feet and edging toward the door when she spoke.
Chapter 9
We didn’t arrive back at the station house any too soon. It was a quarter to six, and Ross, our second witness, could be dropping by any minute.
As Lou and I made our way down the long room toward our respective offices, I glanced around me. These were entirely different people from the cast of characters I’d seen working here this morning. Some of them turned in our direction when we passed, acknowledging Lou with a nod or a wave or a “How ya doin’?” But if they knew—or cared—about the identity of the full-figured (an adjective I much prefer to some others I’ve been saddled with) redhead who was trotting along beside him, it didn’t show.
We had reached the far end of the room when I remarked, “Well, at least we learned one thing today.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“The victim was charming.”
“You can say that again.” Lou shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. “And again and again and again.” Then just as he was about to enter his office, he began to laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing, really. I was thinking about Marilyn Vincent inching toward that door. Not that she was happy to get away from you or anything.”
“Whaddaya mean from me ? You were no slouch in the questioning department, either, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but you were the one who put her feet to the fire with your ‘Why did Mrs. Vincent’s fiancé break up with her?’ You made the poor woman feel like a traitor, having to give up something like that about her best friend.”
“Listen,” I retorted, “did you happen to notice her expression when you told her we’d like her phone number in case we needed to speak to her again? And just as she had one foot in the hall, too, no doubt figuring that she was home free by then.”
“I still say you were the one who really rocked her.” And with this, Lou patted me on the back in a spontaneous gesture of camaraderie. Almost as though we really are partners, I thought. It was the first truly unguarded moment we’d shared. And I had the fleeting idea the man might actually be starting to accept me.
Ha!
“See you in a little while,” I said. I made a brief stop in my cubicle to deposit my coat and attaché case, then headed for the ladies’ room. A minute or two after I returned, Lou appeared in my doorway waving a pink message slip.
“What’s that?”
“Ross phoned this afternoon. He can’t make it tonight—something about his wife and dinner. He said he could come in Monday evening. All right with you?”
“Why don’t you see if you can persuade him to do it tomorrow morning instead?”
“Hey, tomorrow’s Sunday, in case you’ve forgotten, and I’ve got the day off. I promised to take my kid to the Devils’ game. And I have no intention of disappointing him.”
“Devils?”
“Hockey. The Devils are a New Jersey hockey team,” Lou apprised me condescendingly.
“That’s no problem, Lou. I can see the man myself. After all, you’ve already met with him. I thought I’d talk to some of the Vincents’ neighbors, too.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Well, I’d really like to begin looking into things.”
Walking into my space now, Lou sat down on the chair across from me.
Marilyn certainly sounded as if she knew what she was talking about, all right. Still, that didn’t mean she had as much insight into her cousin as she was convinced she did. Which is why I wasn’t ready to abandon the idea of a spurned lover or a jealous husband’s doing Frankie in. At least, not yet. At any rate, there was a brief silence as I thought all this over, with Lou apparently similarly occupied. Marilyn wasted no time in using the vacuum to advantage.
“Listen, if there’s nothing else you want to ask me . . .” She was already on her feet and edging toward the door when she spoke.
Chapter 9
We didn’t arrive back at the station house any too soon. It was a quarter to six, and Ross, our second witness, could be dropping by any minute.
As Lou and I made our way down the long room toward our respective offices, I glanced around me. These were entirely different people from the cast of characters I’d seen working here this morning. Some of them turned in our direction when we passed, acknowledging Lou with a nod or a wave or a “How ya doin’?” But if they knew—or cared—about the identity of the full-figured (an adjective I much prefer to some others I’ve been saddled with) redhead who was trotting along beside him, it didn’t show.
We had reached the far end of the room when I remarked, “Well, at least we learned one thing today.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“The victim was charming.”
“You can say that again.” Lou shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. “And again and again and again.” Then just as he was about to enter his office, he began to laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing, really. I was thinking about Marilyn Vincent inching toward that door. Not that she was happy to get away from you or anything.”
“Whaddaya mean from me ? You were no slouch in the questioning department, either, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but you were the one who put her feet to the fire with your ‘Why did Mrs. Vincent’s fiancé break up with her?’ You made the poor woman feel like a traitor, having to give up something like that about her best friend.”
“Listen,” I retorted, “did you happen to notice her expression when you told her we’d like her phone number in case we needed to speak to her again? And just as she had one foot in the hall, too, no doubt figuring that she was home free by then.”
“I still say you were the one who really rocked her.” And with this, Lou patted me on the back in a spontaneous gesture of camaraderie. Almost as though we really are partners, I thought. It was the first truly unguarded moment we’d shared. And I had the fleeting idea the man might actually be starting to accept me.
Ha!
“See you in a little while,” I said. I made a brief stop in my cubicle to deposit my coat and attaché case, then headed for the ladies’ room. A minute or two after I returned, Lou appeared in my doorway waving a pink message slip.
“What’s that?”
“Ross phoned this afternoon. He can’t make it tonight—something about his wife and dinner. He said he could come in Monday evening. All right with you?”
“Why don’t you see if you can persuade him to do it tomorrow morning instead?”
“Hey, tomorrow’s Sunday, in case you’ve forgotten, and I’ve got the day off. I promised to take my kid to the Devils’ game. And I have no intention of disappointing him.”
“Devils?”
“Hockey. The Devils are a New Jersey hockey team,” Lou apprised me condescendingly.
“That’s no problem, Lou. I can see the man myself. After all, you’ve already met with him. I thought I’d talk to some of the Vincents’ neighbors, too.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Well, I’d really like to begin looking into things.”
Walking into my space now, Lou sat down on the chair across from me.
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