Grime and Punishment

about it. What do we know about her? Almost nothing. Most of our friends have mentioned all sorts of things about their past at one time or another, but except for that one time, what has Robbie ever said about her life?“
    “Nothing that I can remember, but when have we expressed an interest? Be honest, Jane. I’ve always assumed that she’s always been as dull as she is now and there was nothing worth asking about or even listening to. That’s our fault, not hers.”
    Jane lapsed into silence for a few minutes, and finally said, “I know you’re right. But I still think if any of us could have done it, it would be her.“
    “So do I, frankly. But that isn’t proof of anything.“
    “Shelley, you’re forgetting. We don’t need proof. We just need to figure it out and Detective VanDyne can find the proof. That’s his part of the job.“
    “I think the whole problem is his job.“
    “In theory, yes. But the fact is, he doesn’t seem to be in any great hurry to sort this out, and in the meantime, your kids are growing up with your sister.“
    “I called her last night and offered to send along the adoption papers,“ Shelley said. “Yes, you’re right. I’m the one who wants this solved soon. It’s VanDyne’s job, but it’s my life that’s being imposed upon. So, do we go after Robbie next?“
    “Might as well try. Do you suppose she’s home?“
    “You never know. She works a very erratic schedule at that mental hospital. I hope you’ve got some improved technique of questioning in mind.“
    “I certainly do.”
    Robbie did turn out to be home, but barely. “Oh, hello,“ she said at the door, taking her dish. “Will you come in?“ She checked her watch. “I’m on my way to work, but I don’t have to leave for nine minutes. Shelley, I wanted to talk to you. I’m concerned about this planning committee. We’re supposed to report to the school board on our plans for the playground the end of next week, and without having had a single meeting—I know this awful death has been a great shock, but we really should be getting on with things.“
    “I hadn’t even thought about it. You’re right, of course. I’ll set up another time.“
    “We could have the meeting here, if you’d prefer,“ Robbie said, but it was a halfhearted offer. Her house was one of the dozen or so scattered through the neighborhood that predated the subdivision by some twenty or thirty years. Most were big, sprawling farm homes. Others, like Robbie’s, were old and small with little, oddly angled rooms. It wasn’t a good place for meetings. Nor was Robbie a born hostess. Her house was uncomfortably clean, always reeking of Clorox and Lysol.
    “Thanks for offering, Robbie, but I don’t mind having it,“ Shelley said. “In a day or two I hope this terrible mess about the cleaning lady will be taken care of and I’ll get back to normal.“
    “Oh, do they have the person who did it?”
    Jane studied her for some sign of her thoughts. But that big, lantern-jawed face showed nothing but mild, impersonal interest.
    “Not exactly,“ Shelley said, and glanced at Jane with an expression that clearly meant, “Take it away, Jane.“
    “You see, Robbie, it seems to have to do with blackmail,“ Jane said. “And what we’re wondering is, what was Edith blackmailing you about?“ She tried to make it sound as if they were all victims in this together.
    Robbie’s face grew suddenly pale, and Jane noticed for the first time that she had freckles. She turned her back on them, her shoulders rigid.
    “Robbie, you can tell us,“ Jane said. Her heart was pounding; Robbie hadn’t denied it. Was there about to be a shocking revelation, and did she really want to hear it?
    “Robbie...?“ Shelley prodded.
    She whirled back around, her skin mottled in ugly red patches. “It’s none of your business!“ Shelley was the first to break the tense silence.
    “Robbie, I’m sorry, but it is. A perfectly innocent woman was strangled to death in my house.”
    “I didn’t do it!”
    Shelley took her hand, a clenched fist that didn’t relax. “I don’t imagine you did, Robbie. But I still need to know all I can find out.“ She was speaking very softly and soothingly. But Robbie continued to glare at her, her face stiff and hostile.
    Jane was feeling sick. Was Shelley holding the very hand that had looped the vacuum cleaner cord around poor Ramona Thurgood’s throat and twisted and twisted? Had they now set themselves