The Merchant of Menace

idiotic than a mere whim,“ Jane said.
    “Speaking of whims,“ Mel said, “what have you done with my mother?“
    “Dropped her off at the airport,“ Shelley said under her breath so he couldn’t hear her, but Jane could.
    “We invited her to lunch with us, but she said she didn’t like Chinese,“ Jane replied. “I imagine she’s still upstairs.“
    “It’s the MSG that gets her,“ Mel said. “I guess I better take her someplace for lunch.“ He paused, waiting for them to let him off the hook.
    Jane and Shelley smiled benevolently at him. Jane was tempted to say there were lots of leftovers they could eat, but kept quiet. She wanted Addie out of the house for a while. Just long enough to briskly move the sewing room furniture back to the way it had been before.
    “Did you talk to Bruce Pargeter?“ Shelley asked.
    “Yes, at some length. He told me about the sinkhole, his father’s decline and death after the scandal.“
    “And did he have an alibi for last night?“ Jane asked.
    “Sort of,“ Mel replied. “He says he told his mother about Lance King possibly being in the neighborhood and they decided to keep the lowest possible profile. His mother’s bedroom and sitting room are at the back of the house. They turned off all the front lights, the mother went to her room, and Bruce spent the evening in the basement.“
    “In the basement? Hiding or what?“ Shelley said.
    “No, he’s got a terrific woodworking shop down there. Said he was making a jewelry box for his mother’s birthday next month. There were plans from a magazine and a half-done box. Incredibly fine work, by the way.“
    “So it wasn’t something he whipped up this morning as an alibi?“ Jane asked.
    “Nope, but it doesn’t prove anything. He could have done it a week ago and just said he worked on it last night. He’s a nice guy, it seems, but I have nothing to convince me that he couldn’t have been peering out a darkened upstairs window, saw Lance on the roof, and hared up the block to give him a push. His mother, without even being asked, admitted that she’s a little hard of hearing and had the television in her sitting room turned up pretty loud.”
    “So he’s a suspect?“ Jane asked.
    “Jane, at this point, everyone’s a suspect. I’ve already been to do first interviews with all the people who were here, getting their impressions and asking them to make lists of times and people. By the way, ‘Lance King’ was a stage name.“
    “Was it? Who was he really?“ Shelley asked. “Harvey Wilhite.“
    “Wilhite?“ Jane asked. “One of the neighbors is named Wilhite.“
    “Sharon Wilhite,“ Mel said. “Right. And she’s his wife—ex-wife, rather.“
    “You’re kidding!“ Shelley exclaimed.
    But before they could ask anything else, Addie VanDyne called down the stairs, “Mel? Is that you, dear?”
    He went to meet her and a hurried, hissy conversation took place. Jane and Shelley strained their ears to overhear it, but couldn’t get any sense out of the few words they could discern. “I’m going to run Mom out for lunch,“ he announced as he returned to the kitchen. He didn’t look very pleased, Jane thought. Was it just that he resented taking precious time off the murder case or because of the content of their little whispered chat?
    The minute Mel and his mother were out of sight, Jane and Shelley galloped upstairs. They put the bed back on the other wall and scooted the small worktable to the place it had formerly been. “Did she explain why she moved the furniture?“ Shelley asked, neatly aligning the wastebasket under the table.
    “No, neither of us mentioned it. I was too surprised to say anything that wasn’t criminally rude.”
    They took a last look around and closed the door on the sewing/guest room.
    “I feel just like a teenager who has just successfully TP’d a house!“ Shelley said gleefully.
    Suzie Williams was the first to arrive for the cookie party. She looked fabulous in an extremely well-fitted and well-underpinned green suit. The color made her greenish-blue eyes even more gorgeous than usual and her hair had been freshly platinumed. Suzie was a generous-sized woman with a sort of Mae-West-in-her-prime style. And the vulgar sense of humor to go with it. “I’m early. Sorry. But when you’re in the girdle business, you’ve got to get while the getting is good.“
    “Suzie, what great cookies!“ Shelley said with a little more enthusiasm than was strictly