Read Online Partners In Crime by Katy Munger - Free Book Online

hair
framed a strong, almost masculine face that had been referred to as
handsome in her heyday, primarily because of the stubborn and
confident spirit that emanated from it. Her skin was remarkably
unwrinkled for her age. She swore she used nothing but soap, but
T.S. tended not to believe her because she also swore her eyes were
perfect and he had one afternoon discovered a pair of reading
glasses hidden beneath the cushions of her couch.
    Her German heritage was evident in the
strong, rounded chin and her prominent apple cheeks—much like his
own face. She used a light brush of powder and a sprinkling of
rouge because it suited her elegant clothes, not because she needed
it. As sturdy as they come, Auntie Lil was the type of woman who
had settled whole states in pioneer days.
    They never bothered to wait to be seated at
Harvey's. Auntie Lil preferred to charge forth unfettered, taking
the dining area by storm. Because their favorite table was seldom
occupied this early, the maitre d' had long since given up reining
in Auntie Lil. She strode through the dining room, her firm step
belying her eighty-four years of age. Auntie Lil liked to sit in
the rear, looking out over the other tables so she could remark on
fellow diners while they ate. She also liked the extensive dessert
cart to be parked to her right, so she could take her time and
gauge which concoction was proving most popular before making her
own selection.
    She gave the double chocolate mousse pie a
long hard look before answering her nephew. "It was a stabbing. Am
I correct? Right above the heart?"
    "I see you've been reading the News." He
made no mention of his own copy, which he had given to Frederick
once he was through.
    "How else am I supposed to keep current?"
She looked about the dining area and waved the waiter over with a
broad sweep of her sturdy arm.
    "What does one have to do to get a drink
around here?" Auntie Lil muttered.
    "Well, how does the fact that he was stabbed
prove it was a woman? "T. S. mulled over whether or not to order
another drink while she was at it. However, Auntie Lil was staring
at his full glass rather fixedly and he gave the notion up.
    "Because I saw it happen once before." She
announced this with great conviction, leaning forward and staring
him intently in the face, using her most forceful whisper. She had
a most intimidating habit of voicing her opinions in a
conspiratorial and confident manner, moving her body closer so that
it was virtually impossible to disagree.
    "Ms. Hubbert." The waiter nodded his head
and beamed. She was a notorious overtipper. "The usual?"
    "Yes, please. Heavy on the Tabasco." She
drank Bloody Marys and Bloody Marys only, regardless of the time of
day. She could easily drink T.S. under the table.
    "You saw it happen before?" he asked. Auntie
Lil was an endless fount of information and stories on human
nature, having spent six decades in the fashion industry as an
assistant designer. It was an occupation that suited her practical
nature well. She took the illusions and dreams of some of the
biggest names in haute couture and forged them into reality with
her sharp eye, skillful hands and uncompromising perfection. Even
today, at her advanced age, she was in demand during peak
seasons.
    "Yes. In 1938. My best cutter, a Sicilian
woman whose husband had run off with a dancer. Her name was Maria,
I believe. If not, it should have been. She'd taken a lover. An
Albanian, I recall. Someone she knew from the neighborhood. She
obtained a job for him at the warehouse unloading dresses. Soon
after being hired, he had the bad taste to leave her for a fat
housewife of his own nationality. At least Maria said she was fat.
'A filthy pig of a woman' were her exact words. For all I know, she
looked like Sophia Loren. She's Albanian, isn't she?"
    "No, she certainly isn't," he said firmly.
Auntie Lil had to be corrected forcefully and at once or else she
was capable of carrying a misconception to the grave. "And