The Merchant of Menace

said. “After about six months of trying to fend him off, I told him I’d recorded his remarks about cheating the university and changing his grades and other people’s and if he didn’t leave me alone, I’d turn over a copy to the television station and insurance carrier.“
    “He believed it?“ Shelley asked.
    “Not quite, but I was a lot smarter by then and a much better liar. I did have a tape recorder at the time that I used a lot. I told him I’d been planning to divorce him for a long time and had recorded many of our conversations just in case he decided to contest the divorce action. Went on to explain that I’d made copies of the tapes, put them in my safe deposit box along with a notarized, dated transcript done by another attorney. I really spread myself thin on the story. I blabbed about how I had a client who said a competing television station was considering getting their own ‘action reporter’ and mentioned what a coup those tapes would be for them as their first story.“
    “You’re good!“ Jane exclaimed.
    “It seemed to work,“ Sharon said modestly. “I don’t think he entirely believed me, but he couldn’t take the chance of losing his nasty little career. I didn’t hear from him again. But there was something else that I couldn’t undo...“
    “Which was?“ Shelley asked.
    “During the time he was bugging me, he decided he could exert pressure on me by investigating my friends and neighbors. Nothing he could be prosecuted for, just hints. ‘So-and-so’s been divorced three times; wonder if his wife knows that?’ he’d say. Or ‘Such-and-such has a couple shoplifting arrests in her past. Isn’t that interesting?’ “
    Jane had been leaning forward, listening intently. Now she flopped back on the sofa and exchanged a look with Shelley. “That answers one question, doesn’t it? Shelley and I were wondering how he could get invited to the party one day and pretend to have an exposé on the neighborhood ready by the next day. He already had material!“
    “Have you told the police all this?“ Shelley asked sharply.
    “Of course I have,“ Sharon said. “I have nothing to conceal and no sympathy for Harvey or the person who killed him—whoever that was.“
    “I presume you’re not going to tell us who he said these things about,“ Jane said. “And frankly, I don’t think you should. But you did tell the police, right?”
    Sharon nodded. “I told them what little I could remember. But I was so disgusted with most of the junk he told me that I made a real effort to put it out of my mind and a few of the things I do recall were about people who have moved away.“
    “So you have no idea who might have killed him?“ Jane asked.
    “None. And I don’t care.”
    The pack of cigarettes was open now and she was rolling one of them between her fingers.

Sixteen

    “Do we believe her?“ Shelley asked as they walked back to her house.
    “I’d like to,“ Jane replied, “but she admitted she was a good liar. Maybe she’s lying to us and the police about her marriage and background.“
    “It makes sense,“ Shelley said. “If it’s a lie, it’s an elaborate, well-thought-out one. It might be that most of it is true, but parts aren’t.“
    “Which parts?”
    Shelley said, “I have no idea. But did you notice how calm her voice was—and all the while she was ripping into that pack of historical cigarettes? Let’s assume she’s telling mostly the truth. The weak points are, first, that she did get rid of him like she said, but then he started harassing her again and she killed him.“
    “I don’t think she was dressed for it,“ Jane said.
    “Dressed for murder? You mean she wasn’t wearing a Ninja outfit?“
    “No, she had on heels and a fairly tight skirt the night he was killed. It would be damned hard to hoist yourself up an icy ladder in that getup.“
    “But not impossible,“ Shelley said. “Her boots were probably in the front hall of your house. Put them on, dash outside, hitch up the tight skirt. Yeah, yeah. Unlikely.“
    “What’s the next weak point she could be lying about?“
    “Not knowing who her ex-husband had the dirt on. Or not remembering. That doesn’t ring true. If you told me Mrs. Whatsis down the street was the head witch of a coven, I’d sure remember it for a long time.“
    “But Shelley, we’re snoops—“
    “No, we’re curious women who are concerned with the welfare of our friends,“ Shelley said.
    Jane