Read Online Partners In Crime by Katy Munger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katy Munger
Tags: Humorous, cozy, funny mystery, new york city, murder she wrote, traditional mystery, katy munger, gallagher gray, charlotte mcleod, auntie lil, ts hubbert, hubbert and lil, katy munger pen name, wall street mystery
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she
stabbed the housewife?"
"Sophia Loren?"
"No, Aunt Lil. Maria. Your employee." All
this talk of stabbings was starting to get to him. He waved
anxiously at their waiter. Perhaps a fresh drink after all.
"No. She did not." Auntie Lil plucked a
bread stick from the basket and examined it closely before biting
into it with gusto. "She stabbed the Albanian." Crumbs flew as she
talked. Auntie Lil waved what was left of the bread stick as if it
were a baton, using it to emphasize her points. "She stabbed him
right through the heart. I saw it all. Out in the hallway near the
water cooler during a break. Absolutely no warning. She used her
finest scissors, a German pair. Impeccably crafted, of course."
"He died?"
"Certainly. She was the best I've ever seen
with the scissor. An unerring sense of where and when to cut. He
died without a sound. Crumpled at her feet. She stood over him
staring down as if a tramp or street bum had dared to block her
regal passage. It was majestic and terrifying. Black eyes flashing.
Dark hair flowing over a white smock."
Auntie Lil would no doubt have trod the
boards on the Great White Way had it been more respectable for a
young girl in her day.
"What happened then?" he asked.
"I disarmed her. Walked right up to her and
demanded she hand over the scissors. She did, too. Meek as a lamb.
Then I let her sit in the office until the police arrived. It was
too late for the Albanian, of course."
Of course. Auntie Lil figured prominently in
all of her stories. He had no doubt that most of them were
true.
"And you surmise from this that Robert
Cheswick was stabbed by a woman?"
"Yes, I do."
Their drinks arrived and they sipped for a
moment in silence, Auntie Lil making a great show of testing the
degree of spiciness before dismissing their waiter.
"I believe I'll have the shepherd's pie
tonight," she announced to T.S. out of nowhere. It had never been
her habit to follow the conventional confines of a conversation.
"All this excitement has me feeling very much the pheasant."
"You mean peasant, don't you?"
"No. I had it once and it was far too dry."
Auntie Lil refused to admit that she was slightly deaf in her left
ear. "You have the liver and onions," she ordered. "Tell them not
to overcook it."
"I was thinking more along the lines of the
prime rib," T.S. protested.
She snorted at this. "You need the liver.
Look at you. Your color is terrible."
"Yours would be, too, if you'd spent all day
with disagreeable detectives."
"Yes, aren't they? Think they know
everything. What did they withhold from the press?" she asked, her
eyes glittering.
T.S. paused to let her squirm a bit, not
above getting his petty revenge when he could.
"Well, come on. What is it?" She spoke
almost like a man when she had to wait, her already husky voice
deepening and taking on a certain kind of power from
impatience.
Abromowitz had said nothing about keeping
quiet. Probably thought him too unimportant to matter.
"They found him with his fly unzipped."
"I knew it," she crowed. "They always
withhold some important detail. They always do. And now I know it,
too. How exciting."
"There was also a dead boutonniere placed on
his desk."
"A dead one, you said?" She leaned forward,
eyes glittering.
"Yes. Wilted and brown."
"How curious. Symbolic, no doubt." She
leaned back to consider the information. "He could have been on the
way to the bathroom," she finally said. "That's why his fly was
down."
"It's half a flight up."
"Perhaps he was, um, playing with himself,"
she ventured.
"Auntie Lil!"
She waved the waiter over to take their
orders. "I'm teasing you, Theodore. I'm sure it's a significant
development."
She ordered for them both, then suddenly
scrutinized him closely. "Where is your tie tonight, Theodore? You
look like you're on the way to a golf game."
"I'm retired now," he virtually moaned.
"Yes. I quite forgot." She eyed him again
closely. "I think it's quite suitable in that case. You pull it off
well. What a
stabbed the housewife?"
"Sophia Loren?"
"No, Aunt Lil. Maria. Your employee." All
this talk of stabbings was starting to get to him. He waved
anxiously at their waiter. Perhaps a fresh drink after all.
"No. She did not." Auntie Lil plucked a
bread stick from the basket and examined it closely before biting
into it with gusto. "She stabbed the Albanian." Crumbs flew as she
talked. Auntie Lil waved what was left of the bread stick as if it
were a baton, using it to emphasize her points. "She stabbed him
right through the heart. I saw it all. Out in the hallway near the
water cooler during a break. Absolutely no warning. She used her
finest scissors, a German pair. Impeccably crafted, of course."
"He died?"
"Certainly. She was the best I've ever seen
with the scissor. An unerring sense of where and when to cut. He
died without a sound. Crumpled at her feet. She stood over him
staring down as if a tramp or street bum had dared to block her
regal passage. It was majestic and terrifying. Black eyes flashing.
Dark hair flowing over a white smock."
Auntie Lil would no doubt have trod the
boards on the Great White Way had it been more respectable for a
young girl in her day.
"What happened then?" he asked.
"I disarmed her. Walked right up to her and
demanded she hand over the scissors. She did, too. Meek as a lamb.
Then I let her sit in the office until the police arrived. It was
too late for the Albanian, of course."
Of course. Auntie Lil figured prominently in
all of her stories. He had no doubt that most of them were
true.
"And you surmise from this that Robert
Cheswick was stabbed by a woman?"
"Yes, I do."
Their drinks arrived and they sipped for a
moment in silence, Auntie Lil making a great show of testing the
degree of spiciness before dismissing their waiter.
"I believe I'll have the shepherd's pie
tonight," she announced to T.S. out of nowhere. It had never been
her habit to follow the conventional confines of a conversation.
"All this excitement has me feeling very much the pheasant."
"You mean peasant, don't you?"
"No. I had it once and it was far too dry."
Auntie Lil refused to admit that she was slightly deaf in her left
ear. "You have the liver and onions," she ordered. "Tell them not
to overcook it."
"I was thinking more along the lines of the
prime rib," T.S. protested.
She snorted at this. "You need the liver.
Look at you. Your color is terrible."
"Yours would be, too, if you'd spent all day
with disagreeable detectives."
"Yes, aren't they? Think they know
everything. What did they withhold from the press?" she asked, her
eyes glittering.
T.S. paused to let her squirm a bit, not
above getting his petty revenge when he could.
"Well, come on. What is it?" She spoke
almost like a man when she had to wait, her already husky voice
deepening and taking on a certain kind of power from
impatience.
Abromowitz had said nothing about keeping
quiet. Probably thought him too unimportant to matter.
"They found him with his fly unzipped."
"I knew it," she crowed. "They always
withhold some important detail. They always do. And now I know it,
too. How exciting."
"There was also a dead boutonniere placed on
his desk."
"A dead one, you said?" She leaned forward,
eyes glittering.
"Yes. Wilted and brown."
"How curious. Symbolic, no doubt." She
leaned back to consider the information. "He could have been on the
way to the bathroom," she finally said. "That's why his fly was
down."
"It's half a flight up."
"Perhaps he was, um, playing with himself,"
she ventured.
"Auntie Lil!"
She waved the waiter over to take their
orders. "I'm teasing you, Theodore. I'm sure it's a significant
development."
She ordered for them both, then suddenly
scrutinized him closely. "Where is your tie tonight, Theodore? You
look like you're on the way to a golf game."
"I'm retired now," he virtually moaned.
"Yes. I quite forgot." She eyed him again
closely. "I think it's quite suitable in that case. You pull it off
well. What a
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