The Groaning Board

“Good. Did you do the star fifty-seven thing?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’ll check it out. I gotta go.
Whatdja want to ask me?“
    “Did you talk to Micklynn Devora?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s all you’re going to say?”
    “It’s a murder investigation.”
    “Artie, I might as well tell you,
Micklynn hired Smith and Wetzon as consultants.”
    “Consultants? Consulting on what?”
    “Sheila’s murder.”
    “Oh no you’re not.”
    “Micklynn was Sheila’s friend. She
feels responsible.“
    “Every-fucking-body feels
responsible—Silvestri, me, my kid, my wife, Devora. For chrissakes, I’m going
to tell you only once, Leslie, stay out of this. You’re not a professional.“
    “Micklynn is devastated by Sheila’s
death. She asked for help. I want to help.”
    “Help, nothing. You’re only going to
muddy the waters.“
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means, stay away from Micklynn
Devora. There’s a murderer out there who’s been successful once already and j may be only too willing to kill again. I’ll check out that number and get
back to you.”
     
    “Think of it, truffle mayonnaise,”
Laura Lee said. “Joanne brought it to me from Tuscany. It makes the most divine
egg salad.”
    “Laura Lee, screw truffle mayonnaise.
Your client Hem Barron is depraved. He sexually assaulted a sixteen-year-old
girl at Smith’s dinner party Saturday night.” Phone to her ear, Wetzon sat back
in her chair and put her feet on her desk.
    “Darlin’, you must be mistaken. Why
would he do it? Hem can have any woman he wants.”
    “I saw it with my own eyes. It wasn’t
pretty. And Minnie didn’t find anything to admire about it either.”
    “Minnie saw it too? Lord, why can’t
these men just keep it in their pants?”
    “Maybe Hem keeps it in his pants with
Minnie. Have you considered that? Maybe that’s why there are no children. Maybe
sixteen-year-old girls turn Hem on. Minnie doesn’t qualify.”
    “Lordy, lordy, I wish I could have
seen it.”
    “It was horrible, Laura Lee. She has
these melon-sized breasts. He had his face in them and she had her hands in his
pants... oh, shit.”
    “Doesn’t sound like rape to me,
darlin’.”
    “It would still be statutory,
wouldn’t it? Maybe that’s what Bill meant when he said things aren’t always
what they seem....”
    “By Bill, I take it you mean the
smashin’ Billy Veeder?“
    “Yes.”
    “Well, tell me.” Laura Lee’s Southern
tones oozed across the phone lines, honey from a spoon. “What was it like? I
hear he’s spectacular—”
    “Laura Lee! I can’t believe you.
That’s exactly what Smith said.”
    “Wetzon, you really know how to hurt
a girl.”
    “If you must know, nothing happened,
Laura Lee. He brought me to meet his wife.”
    “Oh, the unfortunate Evelyn. Poor
soul. What’s his problem, I wonder, that he has to parade her at affairs?”
    “She’s his shield. He never has to
say, ‘I will never divorce my wife.’ Only a heartless, avaricious bitch would
demand that he leave her.”
    “Well, you wouldn’t, darlin’, that’s
for sure. Still, who cares about marriage these days anyway? Not me, not you.
Right? The important thing is good sex... don’t you agree?”
    “Don’t try to sweet-talk anything out
of me, Laura Lee. Did you know that Bill was once a cop?”
    “No.”
    “Do you think I have this thing for
cops? Be honest with me.”
    Laura Lee giggled. “I’ll have to mull
that over and give you my answer at a future date.”
    “Oh, you just think all of this is
funny. You’re not taking me seriously, so forget it. What I really called to
say is that after what happened the other night I don’t think Hem and Minnie
will be having their anniversary party—”
    “ Au contraire, darlin’. I just spoke to Hem and he
reminded me about you.”
    “I’m not going. They’re crazy, scummy
people. I don’t want them in my life. I hate all those chic, status-conscious
East Siders and their friends.”
    “What about me?”
    “I love you, Laura Lee, but you have
terrible taste in clients.”
    “It’s about money, darlin’. Money
buys tickets for the Philharmonic, the theatre, and the opera. That’s my reason
for attendin’ their little anniversary soiree. Your reason is Bill Veeder.”
    “Oh, fuck it, Laura Lee.”
    “There you go.”
    Wetzon hung up and wandered
downstairs. Darlene was talking to a manager, taking lengthy notes. She was set
up in half of the old office Wetzon and Smith had shared.