The Groaning Board

think that means?”
    “It means we’d better tell the
police, because it gives someone a clear motive for murder.”
    “Look at it this way, sweetie pie. We
have a dead client. But our consulting agreement-—you did get her to sign one,
didn’t you?”
    “She signed it, and it’s in the
file.”
    “Well, may I remind you that our
contract says should the signee die, the agreement would continue until it’s
canceled in writing by the company that hired us. So we’re still employed,
technically, by Micklynn Devora—I mean, by her estate.”
    “Smith, that sounds a teeny bit like
fraud to me, not to mention pure greed. Do you mind if I check it out with Bill
Veeder? I believe he’s Micklynn’s lawyer.”
    Smith groaned. “I don’t believe
this.”
    Wetzon picked up the phone and called
Veeder. She was put right through. Did Mrs. Copeland keep a list of priority
people... ? And how frequently, Wetzon couldn’t help wondering, were names
added and subtracted?
    “Hi.” His voice was scratchy and
deep, as if he’d had no sleep.
    “How did it go?”
    “Okay for now. They’re going to keep
her at Lenox Hill for a couple of days.”
    I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry!” Smith gave a little shriek.
“You must never use that word with any man.”
    Wetzon turned her back.
    “It’s not anything new,” he said.
    “Thank you for the beautiful
flowers.”
    “What flowers?” Smith demanded.
    “I’ll call you tonight,” he said.
    “Okay. Bill, I need to ask you
something about Micklynn’s estate.”
    “I don’t represent the estate.”
    “Oh, I thought—” Hadn’t he told
Silvestri there was a will?
    “ I represent
the company.”
    “ Then who was
Micklynn’s personal lawyer?”
    “ Your friend
Arthur Margolies. Any more questions?” She felt a kind of coldness creep into
his response, but went on anyway. “Yes. What happens to The Groaning Board if
one of the partners dies?”
    He didn’t answer right away.
    “Bill?” That' s right, Wetzon, she
told herself, plunge right ahead.
    “The company reverts to the living
partner.”
    She hung up the phone and looked at
Smith. “Well, that’s an interesting twist.”
    “What is?”
    “Arthur Margolies is Micklynn’s
personal lawyer.”
    “Fine, you can talk to him later.”
Single-minded Smith brushed Wetzon’s words aside. “Now here’s my thinking. We
get paid until someone cancels our contract—”
    “That’s tenuous, Smith. Actually,
that’s larcenous .“
    “But if we find out who killed her
and why, the estate will pay us, babycakes.”
    “Maybe.”
    Absolutely. So what I think we should
do is go up to The Groaning Board tonight and search for whatever it was she
said she had.”
    “I need to talk to Arthur first.”
    “You have such a stubborn streak.”
    “Yes, especially when it comes to breaking
the law.“
    “What exactly did Bill say?”
    “He said in the case of one partner’s
death, the company reverts to the living partner.”
    “Lock, stock, and barrel? How truly
fascinating.” Smith’s voice betrayed her thoughts.
    “Dear partner, don’t for one minute
think we’re going to renegotiate our deal.”
    Smith pressed her palm to where her
heart ought to have been. “Babycakes, what do you think I am?” She batted her
lashes at Wetzon. “I was just thinking what a terrific lawyer your lover is.”
    As Wetzon placed the call to Arthur
Margolies, Darlene came up the stairs carrying Wetzon’s flowers. She set the
vases down on Wetzon’s desk, then fished in her pockets for the message slips.
    “Rosenkind Luwisher is merging Bob
Walters’ office into its other office in Wilmington,” she told Wetzon. “Bob
isn’t going to be manager.”
    “But Bob has been managing the other
office for only three months.” The firm had transferred him from New York with all kinds of promises. “I hope he didn’t sell his house in Connecticut.”
    “I think his wife stayed here because
of the kids,” Darlene said.
    “I’ll talk to him. Maybe they have
something else in mind for him.”
    “I think they’re going to let him
swing slowly in the wind. He’s too old. He’s got to be in his late fifties.
    “Yeah, boy, is that old,” Wetzon
groused to Smith after Darlene exited.
    “Which is why, sweetie pie, we are
very happy in our own business. Over-forties are unemployable on the Street and
in most corporate environments.” She cupped a rose and sniffed. “The flowers
are gorgeous. I take it everything is