The Groaning Board

busy signal?
    The first response on Ellen’s speed
dial was loud music, then “ Yeah, man, you got Todd. Leave a message .“
    “Todd Cameron,” Wetzon said. “What’s
the matter?”
    “I have this spooky feeling someone’s
moving around downstairs. Hurry up.”
    The next number was A.T.’s, and the
last turned out to be Hem Barron’s office. Not such a surprise.
    “Isn’t it odd,” Wetzon said, “for a
teenager not to have a lot of friends? Her speed dial should be full of girls’
numbers, if not boys’.”
    “Why are you being so judgmental?
Ellen is very like I was at her age.”
    “One, I’m not being judgmental. And
two, maybe that’s why you’re drawn to her. Personally, I think she’s manipulative.”
    “Sweetie...” In the darkness the hurt
in Smith’s voice seemed magnified. “Do you think I’m manipulative?”
    “Of course.” She grinned at Smith.
“You always manipulate me to get me to do things you want me to do.”
    “For your own good.”
    “Really?”
    “Humpf. I have only two words to say
to you.” Smith was chortling audibly.
    “Oh, yeah?”
    Smith leaned against the doorjamb and
folded her arms. “Bill Veeder,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here.“
    “Smugness does not become you.”
    They went back down the stairs and
now stood in the middle of the living room. “So what do we have?” Wetzon said.
    “Nothing.” Smith opened the doors of
the armoire, then cocked her head. “Did you hear something?”
    “No.”
    “Shush. I think it came from
downstairs.”
    “Probably from the street.”
    “I guess.” She shuffled through the
contents of the ar-moire. “Micklynn really surprises me. She’s not what I
expected.”
    “What do you mean?” Wetzon checked
the windowsills, peered through the slats of the blinds down to the street. It
was very quiet.
    “She was so neat and orderly. And
such a yuppie after all.”
    “I told you, this is not indicative
of who she was.”
    “And then there’s that serious
briefcase.”
    “What serious briefcase?”
    “The one all the way back in the
closet. Don’t look at me like that, sugar. It was empty. Read my lips.
E-m-p-t-y. Otherwise, I would have mentioned it. Where are you going?”
    Wetzon rushed up the stairs. In
Micklynn’s bedroom, she threw open the closet door and crawled inside. Her hand
touched an expanse of soft leather. She grabbed it and pulled it out just as
Smith entered the room.
    “See, I told you it was empty.”
    “You’re right.” Wetzon flashed the
light on the saddle-leather case. “It’s also not Micklynn’s. Look.”
    Gold initials near the handle caught
the light. SLG.
    “Who the hell is that?” Smith asked.
    “I don’t know what the L stands for,”
Wetzon said, “but the S and G are Sheila Gelber.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

     
     
     
    “We should
probably put it back where it was,” Wetzon said.
    “I think we should leave it here on
the bed, sugar. It’s proof Micklynn killed the Gelber woman.”
    “No, it’s not. It’s circumstantial.
And who’s to say it wasn’t planted?” She thought for a minute. “The police have
been through here already, because the tape was on the door. I bet someone
meant for it to be found.”
    “They’ll probably talk to us again,
babycakes, so let’s coordinate our stories.”
    “It’s very simple,” Wetzon said. “We
were never here. I mean, I was never here after Micklynn died and you never saw
her—alive—after your party.”
    Smith’s smile was so feline Wetzon
expected to see her lick her paws. “That’s not entirely true, sugar.” She blew
on her fingers and rubbed them under her collarbone. “I have to admit I was
instrumental—AT. and I, actually—in bringing Ellen and Mickey to their senses.
We met downstairs, sort of a peace initiative, you know. Ellen is so smart. She
saw the possibilities immediately. After all, Mickey was Ellen’s only living
relative. They needed each other. Mickey was so selfdestructive and the
business is... well... rather lucrative.”
    “Why do I think you’re not talking
about family values?“
    “Because we’re not, sweetie pie.
We’re talking about money. Of course, that’s not what we said to Micklynn.“
    “Of course.”
    “It appeared that the major stumbling
block in their relationship was that dreadful boy, Todd Cameron. And Ellen
agreed she would stop seeing him. May I say there was a tearful reunion?”
    “Well, we know how faithfully she
kept to that,