The Purrfect Murder

BoomBoom spoke at last. She’d been drinking in everything, as had Alicia.
    “Why not?” Aunt Tally held a hand palm up.
    “No one likes looking the fool,” Big Mim countered.
    “What if what he asked for wasn’t money, wasn’t material?” Alicia surprised them.
    “Influence peddling?” Jim thought in political terms.
    “Sex.” Alicia was brisk.
    “What?” Fair couldn’t believe it, but then again, women had thrown themselves at him ever since puberty. He couldn’t fathom men who had trouble with women—well, trouble attracting them.
    “Happens all the time in Hollywood. At least, it did when I was there. I escaped because I was protected, first by Mary Pat and then by my first husband.”
    Mary Pat Reines had been Alicia’s first lover, who taught her manners, diction, foxhunting, and quiet grace.
    “But these women are—” Susan stopped herself.
    “What?” Harry found herself suddenly irritated, angry, really.
    “Why would they? They’re rich, all quite good looking, looks on which they’ve spent a small fortune. Why?” Susan finished her thought, glad that Harry had interrupted her, because Big Mim had certainly made use of plastic surgery’s advances. She hadn’t wanted to insult Big Mim in any way.
    “It’s not what they have and how they look, it’s how they feel.” BoomBoom knew women very well. “Doesn’t seem to me that any of them are in very happy marriages, and Elise is divorced. No one would be the wiser if they paid Mike off in the oldest way possible.”
    “You know, that’s really, truly disgusting. I’d tear his face off,” Harry blurted out.
    “You would.” Fair smiled.
    “Most women lack your self-regard, Harry.” BoomBoom looked levelly at her. “I don’t mean conceit, I mean regard. And you are very strong, as am I. Most women purposefully keep their upper bodies weak because they think that’s attractive to men. Obviously you’ve never been to a gym where women working out with a trainer fret that their muscles will get too big. Can you imagine a poor farm woman in Nebraska in 1880 worrying about muscles?”
    “Or a poor woman in Virginia or a slave woman working in the fields. All our ideas of female beauty are based on privilege. I should know. I’m very privileged.” Aunt Tally had often thought such things but had not discussed them, so BoomBoom’s remark triggered hers.
    “If Mike leaned on them in some fashion, threatened them physically or because he knew, say, Carla was having an affair, he’d get what he wanted,” Alicia said, steering them back on track.
    “Money would be easier.” Jim noticed Gretchen out of the corner of his eye and nodded slightly.
    She came in, took the tray, soon replaced it with another.
    “I wish Herb were here. He hears things.” Little Mim sighed.
    “He won’t be free until late afternoon. Not on a Sunday. And even though he hears things, he often can’t tell us.” Big Mim pressed her lips together. “It could be that Mike killed Carla, if this theory holds water.” She turned to her aunt. “I know you don’t think he has the courage, but if he was frightened of exposure, he could kill. Most people could.”
    “It’s possible,” Aunt Tally agreed, although not convinced.
    “And Tazio had the bad luck to find Carla right afterward,” Paul half-moaned.
    “There’s something so wrong, so bizarre, and I can’t even imagine what it is.” Harry was dumbfounded.
    “We’ve got to get Tazio out of jail,” Paul pleaded.
    With some tenderness, Big Mim counseled, “Paul, we all understand your distress. For someone of Tazio’s breeding and sensibility to be in such an environment is outrageous, but,” she waited for a dramatic moment, “she may be safer in there for now. If Mike really did kill Carla, Tazio could get in his way. You know she’s sitting in that cell trying to put the puzzle together, and she may not come up with all the jigsaw pieces we have, but she’ll come up with a few. We have to root this out first. We don’t need two murders.”
    “We already have two.” Aunt Tally gleefully took the martini that Blair had made for her.
    His mother-in-law’s eyes had watched him as he rose and walked to the bar, but Blair had learned by living close to Aunt Tally that it was better to keep her happy.
    “How can we find out if Mike took bribes or forced women into sex?” Susan was ready to go to work.
    “I think Rick can look into his bank account without arousing opposition.