Murder Can Ruin Your Looks (3 page)

‘‘The thing is,’’ he said wretchedly, ‘‘May Ann wasn’t even supposed to be home that night. She was supposed to go out to dinner with a friend of hers, only the friend canceled at the last minute.’’ He paused, and when he spoke again, it was to say just one word. ‘‘God,’’ he whispered. That ‘‘God’’ held more grief and pain and despair than I’ve ever heard packed into a single word before. In spite of my very sensible resolution about emotional involvement, I felt my own eyes beginning to well up, too.

Suddenly Peter broke the mood. ‘‘You might want to see

this,’’ he said in a normal tone as he extracted a second photograph from his wallet and handed it to me. ‘‘Mary Ann and Meredith.’’

I examined the head shot closely. The sisters
were
re

markably alike.

‘‘Mary Ann’s on the left,’’ he informed me, anticipating my question.

‘‘Do you know if the police have checked out the twins’

dental records?’’ I asked, returning the photos to him.

‘‘That should tell us something.’’

Peter shook his head. ‘‘The detective in charge of the case, this Sergeant Fielding, asked me if I knew the name of their dentist, but I don’t know if they even
saw
a dentist after they came to New York. In fact, I kind of doubt it. Mary Ann said one time that she really should get a checkup, and she wanted to know who I went to. I gave her his name, but she never brought it up again.’’

‘‘Maybe she
did
go and just forgot to mention it,’’ I of

fered hopefully.

‘‘Uh-uh. I told the police about it, and they checked with

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Selma
Eichler

Dr. Fischel—that’s my dentist. But he told Fielding she wasn’t his patient. I guess she never got around to calling him.’’

‘‘There’s always their London dentist. Is there someone in the family who could give us
his
name?’’

‘‘I’m afraid not. Both parents were killed in an automo

bile accident a few years ago, so there’s just the one brother. He’s in town right now, in fact. On a business trip. We talked on the phone last night about this dentist thing—

he said the police had asked him about it—but he has no idea who they went to over there.’’

‘‘Are there any other relatives? An aunt, maybe? Or an uncle?’’

‘‘I don’t think so. Not that I know of.’’

At this point, I made up my mind to get to the question that had been running around in my head almost from the moment Peter first began telling me about the crime back in my office. It’s the kind of thing I’m very uncomfortable talking about, and I could feel myself blushing all the way from my chin to my henna-red hair. ‘‘Listen, when you were, um . . . together—you and Mary Ann, I mean—did you notice anything, anything at all, on her . . . on her body? A mole? A birthmark?
Anything
that might help with the identification?’’

It was Peter’s turn to blush. ‘‘Mary Ann’s very shy. We always made love in the dark.’’

Leave
it
to
a
client
of
mine
to
wind
up
with
maybe
the
only
girl
in
New
York
who
had
a
problem
with
taking
her
clothes
off!

I quickly changed the subject. For both our sakes. ‘‘What do the police suspect? Do they think it might have been a burglary?’’

‘‘They seem pretty sure it wasn’t. They said there was no sign of a break-in.’’

‘‘You told me before that you didn’t know of anyone who might have wanted to harm them; but the sad fact is, someone
did
harm those two girls.’’ (Now, I realize that some women might not be too pleased with me right at this moment. But I can’t help it; I consider any member of the female sex who’s under thirty a girl.) ‘‘Think hard,’’ I instructed. ‘‘Is there anyone who might have had a grudge against either of them? Somebody who caused some trou

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ble in the past? Or who had been a problem to one of them—or to both of them, for that matter?’’

‘‘Well, I don’t know if you’d call it a problem. . . .’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Meredith and her brother were on the outs. But that goes back years. It was something to do with her marriage. I don’t think her brother approved of the guy.’’

‘‘Mary Ann and the brother got along okay?’’

‘‘Mary Ann’s a very family-oriented person. She was al

ways hoping Meredith and Eric would bury the hatchet. I imagine one of the reasons it was so important to her was that her parents were both gone.’’

‘‘You said Mary Ann had a shop of some kind. Any business disagreements you know of?’’

‘‘None. Not that she mentioned to me, anyway. And I think she would have if there’d been something.’’

‘‘And Meredith?’’ I prodded. ‘‘Acting can be a pretty cutthroat profession.’’

‘‘There
were
some bad feelings at first. Mary Ann talked about it once; it just kind of came up in conversation. But I didn’t get the impression it was really serious.’’

‘‘What did Mary Ann tell you?’’

‘‘She said that some actress in Meredith’s show resented her. She—this actress—had been promised the part that Meredith got. So the other woman—I can’t remember her name—had to settle for a minor role in the show.’’

‘‘You don’t happen to know the name of the show, do you?’’

‘‘Sure. It’s called
Love
and
Stuff
. It’s rehearsing at the Berkeley over in the West Village.’’

‘‘And Mary Ann never talked about anyone resenting
her
?’’

Peter shook his head. ‘‘Everyone liked . . .
likes
Mary Ann. She’s just so thoughtful, so easy to get along with.’’

Nobody could be that perfect. ‘‘She
never
had a disagree

ment with
anyone
?’’

‘‘Well . . .’’

I pounced. ‘‘Who?’’ I demanded. (You’d be surprised at how often I feel vindicated for being a pain in the ass.)

‘‘This ex-fianceóf hers. But they broke off right after she came to New York. I can’t see him waiting all this time.’’

And then Peter went on to explain.

Mary Ann, he said, had been engaged to a man from

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New Jersey—Hillside, Peter thought it was. The man’s name was Roger somebody-or-other, and he was in real estate or maybe it was insurance. ‘‘That’s about all I can tell you about him,’’ Peter said, embarrassed. ‘‘I’m afraid I’m pretty terrible at names,’’ he added unnecessarily.

‘‘And I don’t know all that much about the relationship, either. I
do
know they met at Harrods—the department store. Mary Ann was working there, and this Roger was in London on vacation. I guess he was pretty well off, because he extended his vacation to be with her, and after that he flew back and forth a lot.’’

‘‘When was all this?’’

‘‘I think they started going together about six or eight months before Mary Ann moved to New York, which is where the family was from originally.’’

‘‘Meredith came here at the same time as her sister?’’

Peter nodded. ‘‘When Mary Ann first started making the

arrangements, Meredith’s husband was still alive, although he was already pretty sick. Mary Ann felt really guilty about leaving her like that, but Meredith insisted. Mary Ann was engaged by then, see, so she pretty much
had
to make the move.’’ If Peter felt any jealousy about his fian

ceé’s previous involvement with another man, you couldn’t tell by his voice. He was relating the information calmly and impersonally, as though it had all happened in another lifetime. And I suppose, in a way, it had.

‘‘But then Meredith’s husband died,’’ he continued.

‘‘Right before Mary Ann was scheduled to leave. So Mere

dith got it all together in a hurry and came with her.’’

‘‘Okay, so Mary Ann comes to this country intending to marry Roger, but . . . ?’’

‘‘But almost as soon as she got here, she found out the guy had had two previous wives he never considered worth mentioning.’’

‘‘So she broke it off.’’

‘‘So she broke it off,’’ Peter echoed.

‘‘I don’t suppose the breakup was very amicable.’’

‘‘No. I have a pretty good idea this Roger got a little nasty, although Mary Ann never said much about it. I guess the only reason she brought the whole thing up at all was because she thought she should. But I could see she wasn’t anxious to go into detail, so I didn’t pursue it.’’ Peter

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glanced at his watch then, so quickly that I could tell he didn’t mean for me to notice.

‘‘Do you have an appointment somewhere else?’’

‘‘It’s not that. It’s just that I’m anxious to get back to the hospital. But if there’s anything else you need to know . . .’’

‘‘No, you get going.’’ I was pretty much questioned out. Besides, the place was beginning to fill up, so any minute now we could expect the manager to start giving us the fish-eye. ‘‘I’ll talk to you soon,’’ I promised.

Looking back, I realize something that at the time I wasn’t ready to acknowledge: The questions I put to Peter that day were at least as much about uncovering the killer as they were about discovering the identities of the victims. Chapter 3

I waited until after nine that night to call my niece Ellen. (Ellen’s an assistant buyer at Macy’s and she works until eight-thirty some nights, but I can never remember which ones.)

The phone rang six times before she picked up, and when

she did, she was breathing hard. ‘‘Hello?’’ she said, making it sound like a question.

‘‘What’s the matter? Did you just get in?’’

‘‘Aunt Dez?’’ she asked, still trying to catch her breath.

‘‘I heard the phone just as I was putting my key in the lock. I was sure whoever it was would hang up before I could get to it.’’

‘‘I was ready to. Listen, I’d like to talk to you about something; it’s kind of important. Do you want to call me back after you’ve had a chance to take off your coat? Or, if you want to grab a bite first, call me when you’re through.’’

‘‘No, no. I can get out of my coat while we talk, and I ate earlier. What’s up?’’ I was trying to decide how to put things, so this was followed by a worrisome pause. Worri

some for Ellen, that is, who happens to be the world’s champion worrywart. ‘‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there?’’ she demanded. God only knows what she was be

ginning to conjure up.

‘‘Everything’s fine, Ellen, really,’’ I assured her hurriedly.

‘‘I just want to tell you about this very attractive man I—’’

It was as far as I got. ‘‘Ohhh, Aunt Dez!’’ she shrieked.

‘‘You met someone!’’ Her voice was so piercing I had to hold the receiver away from my ear. Ellen is nothing if not enthusiastic. When she can’t find anything to stew about, that is.

‘‘Well, there
is
someone. But not for me. For you. He’s a young lawyer who started at the office about three weeks ago.’’

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I guess I should explain. By ‘‘the office,’’ I was referring to the law offices of Gilbert and Sullivan (that’s right, Gil

bert and Sullivan), where I rent space. And Elliot Gilbert and Pat Sullivan not only make it possible for me to con

duct my business in a decent section of the city, but these two very sweet guys also throw work my way whenever they can.
Plus,
under my arrangement with them, I am able to avail myself of the services of the best secretary in Manhattan. But back to Ellen . . .

She wasn’t quite as pleased with my news as I’d hoped she’d be. ‘‘You didn’t!’’ she accused so shrilly that I had to remove the receiver from my ear again. A moment later, she said more calmly, ‘‘I
know
you have my interests at heart, Aunt Dez, but it is
so
embarrassing to—’’

‘‘Just hold on!’’ I commanded. ‘‘I did
not
do what you’re thinking I did. Will Fitzgerald approached
me
about intro

ducing him to someone. He hasn’t been in New York very long, and he’s busy studying for the New York bar most of the time, so he hasn’t been able to develop much of a social life. We got into a conversation this morning, and he asked if I knew any nice girls, and I said no. The only one I know jumps to all kinds of conclusions and has her poor old aunt on a Maalox diet.’’