The Class Menagerie

thought.
    “What about our first premise, that Lila was killed because of her blackmail attempts?“ Shelley asked.
    “Well, that’s a matter of endless interviews and intuition, not physical facts,“ Mel said.
    “Of course it is, but what do you think?“ Shelley insisted. She was coming close to asking what she really wanted to know, which was what additional information Mel had about the suspects. “I think—personal opinion only—that it’s extremely likely, in view of the fact that she attempted extortion on at least one of the women and hinted at secret information about others. But there are a lot of reasons for murder, some of them pretty loony.“
    “Loony—“ Jane said. “Have any of them ever been hospitalized for any mental aberrations? I mean, what if it was just a crazy act with no motive?“
    Mel treated this question with the minimum respect due it. “If that’s the case, we’ll eventually dig far enough to discover it.“
    “Eventually,“ Shelley said. “It’s a shame they all live elsewhere. It will make it harder to pursue, won’t it? What other motives have you looked at?“
    “Inheritance is one of the first we consider,“ Mel said. “But it doesn’t appear that she had very much to leave anyone; so far it’s just a lot of bills, and if there’s anything left, it’s to go to a second cousin who’s been in France for the whole month and hardly seemed to remember who Lila was.“
    “What about revenge?“ Jane asked, nibbling one of the crackers. It really did have a slightly charred taste. “What if she’d done something really nasty to one of the Ewe Lambs years ago and this was just the first time the murderer had gotten close enough to her to do her in?“
    She could see from Mel’s expression that he hadn’t considered this, but was rejecting it as fast as he thought about it. “But if you wanted to kill her and get away with it, you’d make sure you weren’t known to be anywhere near,“ he said.
    Shelley said, “Listen, this is really dumb and I know it, so don’t jump all over me, but—I was reading a book last week about a man who killed himself, but set it up to look like his wife had done it to revenge himself on her for something. That’s not remotely possible, is it? Lila was certainly nasty enough to want to see somebody else suffer along with her. And she was apparently at a low point in her life if she was reduced to committing extortion. And remember, the extortion attempts weren’t going well for her. If this reunion was her very last attempt to hang onto her life and it blew up in her face—? After all, she did die where Ted killed himself so long ago. In the carriage house.“
    Jane looked uneasily at Mel, afraid he was going to dismiss Shelley’s theory in terms that would put them back to Mrs. Nowack and Detective VanDyne with her smoothing feathers in the middle.
    But he came through like a champ.
    “It’s possible and the psychology might account for a lot,“ he said, “but the physical evidence refutes it. She might have struck herself in the temple with the paint can hard enough to inflict a severe wound, but then she’d have had to remain conscious to wipe the fingerprints off the can, as somebody did. And then smother herself. That one’s pretty hard to do. Not impossible, of course. She could have forced her own face into the rags, but then she’d have been facedown, not face up as she was found.“
    Shelley smiled at him. It was the first time Jane could remember Shelley’s actually smiling sincerely at Mel. “Thanks,“ she said. “Just to be positive— I don’t suppose the boys who discovered her could have turned her over?“
    “They were so traumatized by merely seeing her, I don’t think you could have gotten them to touch her if you’d put guns to their heads.“
    They sat quietly for a moment; Shelley was gazing into her cocoa, now cold and getting a nasty skin. Jane munched another disgusting cracker. “Aren’t you going to ask me?“ Mel finally said, breaking the silence.
    “Ask you what?“ Jane said.
    “What I’ve learned about the Ewe Lambs—God, what a name! I can hardly stand to say it. It’s like being forced to order something by a cute name in a restaurant.“
    “We didn’t think you’d tell us,“ Shelley said.
    Mel took a cracker, bit into it, and looked unpleasantly surprised.
    “Oh, just spit it out in this napkin,“ Jane said.
    He swallowed melodramatically and patted her