Murder Can Rain on Your Shower (7 page)

‘‘Very. But apparently you didn’t relay that infor

mation to your mother.’’

‘‘How do you know?’’

‘‘I heard from her right after she spoke to you. She

requested that I follow up on the gifts.’’

‘‘Oh. I wish she hadn’t bothered you. The thing is, I never had a chance to tell her about that message. She asked how the shower was, and I told her what

happened. She felt terrible about Bobbie Jean, of

course.’’ (
Yeah,
yeah.
) ‘‘But she said that she hoped I’d at least received some nice presents, and I said that I hadn’t seen them yet, that I had to leave them at Silver Oaks for a couple of days. She started to carry on about the club’s having no right to confiscate

somebody’s property like that. Well, I tried to explain

that since the presents had been stacked up in the

room where Bobbie Jean had taken sick, the police

hadn’t wanted them removed until they’d finished

going over everything.

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Selma
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‘‘My mother has a one-track mind, though. She

didn’t care why those gifts were being held there; she just wanted them released. Anyway, before I could

get out that they were being delivered to me, she’d hung up. I love her very much, Aunt Dez, but that

woman can be absolutely impossible sometimes.’’

Give me credit; I didn’t utter a word. After all, Mar

got
is
Ellen’s mother.

‘‘She really hasn’t been herself lately, though,’’

Ellen added protectively.

‘‘What do you mean?’’

‘‘Her ankle. She’s in pain a lot of the time.’’

Now, although I’ve never wished for anything
dire
to happen to Margot (well, only on a couple of rare occasions), it did my heart good to hear that she was suffering
somewhat,
at least.

So while I said, ‘‘Gee, that’s too bad,’’ I was grin

ning like crazy when I said it.

I dialed Allison Lynton shortly after Ellen and I

hung up. We talked for a few minutes about how

many people had reached out to the family in the less

than two days since Bobbie Jean’s death. ‘‘Dozens of friends and neighbors have called and stopped by,’’

Allison told me. ‘‘And we received so many beautiful bouquets that I ran some of them over to the hospital

a bit earlier.’’

A fruit basket instantly replaced the flowers I’d

planned on sending that afternoon.

‘‘And how is Wes feeling?’’ I asked then. I had met

Mike’s father only once, but I’d taken an immediate

liking to him. You really couldn’t help it; he was such

a gentle, soft-spoken man.

‘‘He’s extremely depressed,’’ Allison confided,

sounding pretty depressed herself. ‘‘I was hoping that having all those visitors would divert him—for a little while, anyway. That hasn’t happened, though. Not

yet.’’

‘‘Well, the tragedy is still awfully fresh.’’

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CAN
RAIN
ON
YOUR
SHOWER

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‘‘You’re right. And I realize these things take time. But it hurts me to see Wes like that.’’

‘‘You’ll give him my best, won’t you? Please convey

how very sorry I am for his loss.’’

Allison murmured that she’d do that, after which I

asked if she’d heard anything from the Forsythe

police.

‘‘No, but Dr. Krauss telephoned yesterday. He was

Bobbie Jean’s physician—he’s mine, too. Anders—Dr.

Krauss—is also a family friend; he and Wes went to

medical school together. At any rate, Chief Porchow

contacted him about Bobbie Jean’s medical history.

Anders told him basically the same thing I did, that she’d always been in good health—at least, to the best

of his knowledge. As I believe I mentioned to you,

Bobbie Jean did live abroad for a time. Nevertheless, Dr. Krauss is still reasonably certain she’d never been

seriously ill.’’

‘‘The doctor must have been very surprised to learn

of her death.’’

‘‘He was shocked.’’ There was what I’d describe as

a pregnant pause here. And from her next words, I

can only gather that Allison had been trying to make up her mind whether or not to share more of her

conversation with the physician.

‘‘Anders has known Bobbie Jean for many years,’’

she went on at last. ‘‘
Had
known, I imagine I should say. And being fairly familiar with her past, he’s aware

that she sometimes engaged in rather . . . uh . . .

thoughtless behavior, which didn’t exactly endear her to

a number of people. Well, in the course of our talk I told Anders that a few of those people had been at the shower. Incidentally, one of them—Grace Banner—is

even a patient of his. As I started to say, though, once

he heard that four of Bobbie Jean’s—it’s probably not

a stretch to call them enemies—were right there on

the scene, he asked if I considered her death to be suspicious.’’

‘‘And do you?’’

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Selma
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A protracted silence followed, after which Allison

said quietly, ‘‘I suppose I have to concede that it
is
possible she met with foul play, although I don’t be

lieve that’s actually the case.’’ And now she seemed to

be struggling with herself. ‘‘Still, even before Lorraine

claimed to have heard something of that nature on

Sunday, it crossed my mind that Bobbie Jean might

have been murdered. But then again, this would mean

that the person responsible was one of my very good friends, and I can’t even imagine any of them
poison

ing
somebody.’’ A few moments went by before she made another admission. ‘‘I’m also terribly concerned

about how Wes might react if it should turn out that someone
did
do away with Bobbie Jean. Perhaps that’s another reason I tend to reject that theory.’’

‘‘It sounds to me as if the doctor himself may regard

her death as suspicious.’’

‘‘I think you’re right, although he didn’t offer an

opinion.’’ I was about to bring up another matter

when Allison hit me with, ‘‘You know, Desiree, if

Bobbie Jean
was
murdered, I’m afraid I could be at least partially responsible.’’

‘‘Why would you say a thing like that?’’

‘‘I might have set the stage for it to occur. Look, it wasn’t my idea to have Ellen’s shower at Bobbie

Jean’s club. In fact, I fought it. But Bobbie Jean was absolutely determined. In the end she went to Wes,

and he persuaded me to go along with her. My hus

band was always extremely supportive of his sister,

which had a great deal to do with her childhood. But that’s another story entirely. Anyhow, I shouldn’t have

listened to Wes. I recognized instinctively that

allowing Bobbie Jean to . . . well . . . in a way, act as hostess wouldn’t exactly be appreciated by certain of the guests. It was almost as if they’d be attending the shower at her sufferance. Do you understand what

I mean?’’

‘‘I think I do. But listen, Allison, there was no way you could predict that Bobbie Jean would be poisoned—

if, in fact, that’s how she died. Or be sure that her

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CAN
RAIN
ON
YOUR
SHOWER

43

death could have been avoided if the affair had been held somewhere else.’’

‘‘I’d like to think that’s true.’’

‘‘It is. But tell me this. Is it your opinion that your sister-in-law wanted the shower at Silver Oaks in

order to make it uncomfortable for these particular

ladies who so obviously hated her?’’

‘‘No, it’s not. Bobbie Jean wasn’t especially con

cerned with what people thought of her. I’m fairly

positive that the only reason she was so keen on her country club was because it’s such an elegant setting. And she figured that by arranging for the function to be held there, she’d be doing something nice for Mike

and his bride-to-be. But I’m not at all sure the women

involved would agree with this assessment.

‘‘In any event, I did try my best to explain to Bob

bie Jean that because of the bitterness existing be

tween her and some of the guests, it might be

advisable to have the shower at a more neutral loca

tion. But she shrugged off my objections.’’

‘‘Incidentally, I presume we’ve been talking about

Lorraine, Grace, and the Fremonts—mother and

daughter.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ Allison said softly.

‘‘Well, why didn’t any of the four just decline the invitation if they were troubled by the Silver Oaks

thing?’’

‘‘A good question. Particularly since I assured them

I wouldn’t be offended if that’s what they decided to do. But Lorraine said she had no intention of giving Bobbie Jean the satisfaction of staying away. Besides, Lorraine had attended a shower at Silver Oaks about

a year ago and evidently she was very impressed with

the food. She told me she refused to allow Bobbie

Jean to deprive her of a meal like that. The others insisted—and I really don’t quite accept this—that the

situation didn’t bother them that much. All four of

them of them also said that they wouldn’t dream of

missing a shower for my future daughter-in-law.’’

‘‘Aside from those women, was there anyone else

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Selma
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at Silver Oaks that day who harbored a grudge against

your sister-in-law?’’

‘‘No one I’m aware of. But it
is
conceivable, with a track record like Bobbie Jean’s. I should really give it

some thought, shouldn’t I? Thanks, Desiree.’’

‘‘For what?’’

‘‘For the reminder that even if it should be deter

mined that Bobbie Jean was poisoned, this wouldn’t

necessarily mean one of those four had a hand in it.’’

‘‘No, it wouldn’t. And I certainly intend to explore additional areas, as well. Nevertheless, it’s important that you and I go over the grievances your friends

harbored against Bobbie Jean.’’

I fully expected that Allison would put me off until

the end of the week. Which she sort of did. And

which, in view of the circumstances, was understand

able. But then she inquired hesitantly, ‘‘Our talk
can
wait, can’t it?’’

‘‘Yes, I guess it can. But—’’ I cut myself off.

‘‘But what?’’

‘‘If there
has
been a crime committed here, the more promptly I begin my investigation, the better my

chances of apprehending the perpetrator. As time goes

by, memories fade, perceptions change, evidence—’’

‘‘So you’re saying that we should get together as

quickly as possible.’’

‘‘Pretty much, if you can possibly arrange it. We

can do it anywhere that’s convenient for you, Allison.

Naturally, I’ll be glad to come up to Greenwich if that

would be best.’’

‘‘That wouldn’t be necessary. I happen to be coming

into Manhattan this afternoon—I have to attend to

some business at the funeral parlor today.’’ Then, with

more than a hint of reluctance: ‘‘If you really believe my meeting with you this soon could make a differ

ence, I suppose I can stop by your apartment before driving back.’’

‘‘I believe it could make a critical difference.’’

‘‘All right,’’ Allison agreed. ‘‘I should be able to get

there by six thirty or so. How does that sound?’’

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CAN
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ON
YOUR
SHOWER

45

‘‘Perfect. Listen, why don’t you stay for dinner?’’

Not known for my speed—not even in the kitchen—

the instant I extended the invitation I was half out of my chair, poised to head for home and start putting together a meal of some kind.

‘‘I’d really love to, Desiree, but I’m anxious to re

turn to Connecticut as early as I can. My brother and sister-in-law will be keeping Wes company, but still—

Listen, this won’t take very long, will it?’’

‘‘I promise it won’t.’’

Now, this is a promise I make with regularity. And

break with equal regularity.

But I vowed to myself to keep my word this time.

Even if I had to pull out my tongue to do it.