Silence Of The Hams

the corners of her eyes, careful not to mess up her makeup, Rhonda let Tony lead her away to the sofa grouping in front of the enormous fireplace in the sunken living room. Shelley gave Jane a quick look that silently said, “We already have things to talk about.”
    When they joined Rhonda, Tony had disappeared again. “He’s making some phone calls for me,“ Rhonda explained without prompting. “The state bar association and some old friends and neighbors. Oh, dear—it doesn’t seem possible that this has happened, does it?“
    “It’s a terrible shame,“ Shelley said. “And it must be very hard on you.“
    “Yes, but it could have been much worse for Robert.“ At their perplexed expressions, she added. “You see, he had an absolute horror of illness and a lingering death. He was so active—so enormously active. Physically, mentally, socially. To have been rendered inactive would have been hell for him. At least his death was very, very quick. I know if he’d had a choice, that would have been his preference.“
    “Do the police have any idea what happened?“ Shelley asked innocently.
    “They’re not telling me anything,“ Rhonda said with what would have been called a pout in other circumstances. “Just asking questions. Terribly personal questions, some of them.”
    Tony Belton had come back into the room. “—which I keep telling you you’re under no obligation to answer,“ he added.
    “But Tony, I have nothing to conceal. And I want the person who did this awful thing apprehended as soon as possible.”
    Tony didn’t comment, but held out the list of names and phone numbers. “Rhonda, I think one of these is wrong. I keep getting a pizza restaurant.”
    The doorbell rang and Tony started to get up. Shelley stopped him. “I’ll get it. In fact, Jane and I need to be moving along. We’ll come back later on and help with the food, or tidying up or whatever you might need.”
    They went to the door, where two more neighbors stood. One had a box of pastries from an expensive bakery. The other had a foil-covered casserole in a raffia basket. Shelley showed them in, and as she was closing the door, they could hear Rhonda saying, “Martha! Nancy! How wonderful of you to come help me out at this awful, awful time. I knew I could count on you. Such good friends.“
    “Hmm. Why does that sound familiar?“ Shelley said.

7

    “Why are we rushing off?“ Jane asked.
    “Because she’s not a real person. She’s a recording. She’s not going to say anything interesting or useful. Not unless you’re willing to be patronized for days on end while you wait.“
    “But did you see the looks she was giving Tony Belton?”
    Shelley nodded. “That’s a woman who is either having an affair or wanting to have an affair.“
    “I agree. There was something hungry and greedy in the looks, the little touches, the sad but provocative smiles. I wonder if Mel has seen them together. Do you think a man would pick up on that?“
    “Even if he did, it wouldn’t be evidence—“ “But it’s sure a nice motive, isn’t it?“ Jane said, getting into the car. “The wife and partner could get all the benefits of his business, his investments, everything—and without the bother of having him around. Which has to be a relief to both of them on general principle. A person like that can’t be easy to live with or do business with.“
    “Do you really think we ought to go to visit Sarah in the hospital?“ Shelley asked.
    “Why not?”
    Shelley shrugged. “I’d feel perfectly all right about it if she were in for surgery, but a mental breakdown? What do you say to somebody who’s gone off the deep end?“
    “The same things you say to anyone. Hope you’re feeling better. Chat about neighborhood news—well, maybe not. Let’s deliver the flowers and ask at the nurses’ station if they think she’d like company. She probably doesn’t. And if she does, we’ll just be cheerful.”
    They stopped at a florist shop and got a couple sprays of fragrant pink lilies in an especially pretty clear vase. “We’re bringing these for Mrs. Baker,“ Jane said at the nurses’ station when they finally found the right floor. “Should we leave them with you, or—“
    “Yes, dear. Leave them here. Mrs. Baker is only authorized to have family visitors. You aren’t family, are you? Oh, here comes her sister. She might want to take them in for you.”
    Grace Axton, looking very tired, had just come out of a