Silence Of The Hams

hippie-dippy life for a long time according to Grace. Maybe they didn’t pay their taxes or something like that.“
    “Yes, but if he had anything on them, wouldn’t he have used it to apply pressure on them before the deli could open?“ Shelley asked.
    “I guess you’re right. He really did pull out all the stops to try to keep them from open- Shelley started the van. “I feel like a rat in a maze that hasn’t any opening. Every time I think about this, I end up at the same dead end.“
    “Which is?“
    “Stonecipher’s death,“ Shelley said, backing out ruthlessly and ignoring the uproar of honking this caused. “It’s too coincidental that both Stonecipher and Emma would die under suspicious circumstances without there being a connection. But why would anybody want to make a natural death look like a murder?”

14

    They’d gone only two blocks when Jane noticed a car at the side of the street. The hood was up and an older man was looking into the engine. “Hold it, Shelley,“ Jane said. “Isn’t that Foster Hanlon? Let’s stop and help. We might pry something interesting out of him.“
    “I’d like to pry the old bastard’s guts out of him,“ Shelley said.
    “Come on, Shelley. You can stand a few minutes. Keep in mind that he was with Stonecipher at the deli. Right on his heels.”
    Grumbling, Shelley pulled over and backed up, and the two of them got out of the van. Hanlon was a small, wiry man who could have been anywhere from sixty to eighty years old. He had thinning yellow-white hair; a stiff, erect carriage that was almost military; and a face that was a road map of fine wrinkles. He was dressed in a dark three-piece suit with a white shirt so heavily starched it probably crackled when he moved.
    “Mr. Hanlon, have you got engine problems?“ Jane asked.
    He straightened up so quickly that he bumped his head on the hood. “Oh, yes. Well, I think so. I’m sorry to admit that not only do I know very little about cars, but I don’t even know who you are.”
    It was, on the surface, a reasonable, inoffensive sentence, but Jane found it obnoxious. She was tempted to say, “Oh, we’re just a couple neighborhood muggers, stopped to beat and rob you.“ Shelley’s grim expression hinted that she was thinking along the same lines.
    “I’m Jane Jeffry and this is Shelley Nowack. Do you need—“
    “Jeffry. Jeffry? Oh, yes. The house with the driveway that needs repairing,“ Hanlon said. “And Mrs. Nowack is next door. You could use a bit of paint on the trim around your windows, Mrs. Nowack.“
    “And you—“ Shelley began.
    Jane elbowed her and said, “I don’t know anything about engines either, but we’d be glad to give you a lift to a service station. Wouldn’t we, Shelley?“
    “ Oh, of course,“ Shelley replied with dangerous cheerfulness. “By way of the nearest sheer cliff,“ she finished under her breath.
    “I—well, what I really need is a lift home. I’ve got groceries in the car that are melting. If you wouldn’t really mind.“
    “Not at all,“ Jane said. “We’ll just help you put them in the back of the van.”
    He had a surprising number of grocery sacks, including one holding two bags of ice that were already beginning to drip. “Mrs. Nowack, you are aware of the speed limit here, aren’t you?“ he said as Shelley took off like a rocket.
    She slammed on the brakes, flinging him forward. “Oh, I must have forgotten for a moment,“ she said sweetly. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
    The rest of the way, he acted like a demented tour guide. “There’s an example of neglect,“ he said. “Perfectly sound house but the cracks in the foundation are just being patched instead of getting to the real problem. And over there. That yard is a disgrace. There are more dandelions than grass. No excuse for it. Causes grief for all the neighbors who keep their lawns nice. It’s not that much trouble. Just mowing, seeding, fertilizing, weed killer, occasional de-thatching—the neighborhood association has a nice pamphlet on proper lawn care for anybody who needs it. I keep a stack of them in the car and drop them off to people when I see their lawns suffering neglect.“
    “I wonder,“ Shelley said dreamily, “if anybody has done studies on a possible connection between neighborhood associations and the neo-Nazi movement?”
    This remark seemed to genuinely puzzle him and he was quiet for a bit.
    Jane leaned forward on the pretense of finding