M Is for Malice

where she was going with this.
    "You know, Bennet never agreed to share the money. He wasn't convinced that was Bader's intention and neither was Jack. Of course, Jack sided with Bennet in just about everything."
    "Well, maybe they weren't convinced, but given the missing will, I don't know what choice they had, short of court action. I gather nothing was settled."
    "Not at all. If they'd settled their business, Guy would have gone home. He was miserable here. I could see it in his face."
    "Well, that's true. When I talked to him on Monday, he admitted he'd been drinking."
    "Oh, especially last night. They started with cocktails and went through four or five bottles of wine with dinner. And then, port and liqueurs. It was still going on when I went off to bed. I helped Enid with the dishes and she could see how exhausted I was. Both of us heard them quarreling."
    "Bennet and Guy quarreled?"
    She shook her head, lips moving.
    I cupped a hand to my ear. "Excuse me. I didn't hear that."
    She cleared her throat and raised her voice half a notch. "Jack. Guy and Jack quarreled before Jack went off to his country club. I told the lieutenant about it and now I'm wondering if I should have kept my mouth shut."
    "The truth is the truth. If that's what you heard, you had to tell the police."
    "You don't think he'll be mad?" Her tone was anxious, her expression almost childlike in its apprehension.
    I suspected the entire family would have fits when they heard, but we all had an obligation to cooperate with the police investigation. "Maybe so, but you can't worry about that. Guy was murdered last night. It's not up to you to protect anyone."
    She nodded mutely, but I could see she remained unconvinced.
    "Myrna, I mean this. Whatever happens, I don't think you should feel responsible."
    "But I didn't have to volunteer the information. I like Jack. I can't believe he'd hurt anyone."
    "Listen, you think I'm not going to end up in the same position? The cops are going to talk to me, too. I have to go down there tomorrow and I'm going to end up doing exactly what you did."
    "You are?"
    "Of course. I heard them quarrel the night I came here for drinks. Bennet and Donovan were going at it hammer and tongs. Christie was the one who told me they did it all the time. That doesn't make 'em killers, but it's not up to us to interpret the facts. You have to tell the cops what you heard. I'm sure Enid will back you up. Nobody's going to be arrested on that basis anyway. It's not like you saw Jack coming out of Guy's room with a bloody two-by-four."
    "Not at all. Of course not." I could see some of the tension begin to leave her face. "I hope you're right. I mean, I can see what you're saying. The truth is the truth. All I heard was a quarrel. I never heard Jack threaten him."
    "Exactly," I said, with a glance at my watch. It was nearly six by then. "If you're through for the night, I better let you go. I probably ought to get on out of here myself, but first I want to have a little chat with Christie."
    Anxiety flickered in her eyes. "You won't mention our conversation?"
    "Would you quit worrying? I won't say a word and I don't want you saying anything either."
    "I appreciate that. I believe I would like to go wash my face."
    I waited until Myrna had disappeared through the utility room, moving toward her apartment. My tea was untouched. I emptied my cup and left it in the sink. Despite Enid's good example, I've never owned a dishwasher and don't know the first thing about loading one. I pictured one false move and every dish would go flying, crashing in a heap of rubble. I returned to the library. Christie and Tasha had turned on the television set. Christie held the remote and she was switching from channel to channel to see if she could catch the news. She pressed the Mute button when I came in, turning to look at me. "Oh, there you are. Come in and join us. Tasha thought you were gone."
    "I'm on my way," I said. "I went out to the kitchen to see if I could help out there. Could I ask you a question before I take off? I heard you mention the mail when you were talking to Lieutenant Robb. Can I ask what that was?"
    "Sure. Uhm, let's see. I guess late Monday afternoon someone put an unsigned letter in the mailbox. The envelope had Guy's name on it, but there was no return address. He left it on the hall table when he went to bed last night. I thought the police might want to take a look."
    "Was it typed or handwritten?"
    "The envelope was