Page 9 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Polished Off

received in the mail? These were deep waters, indeed, and my
luncheon companion was quietly circling me like a shark.
My extempore procrastination was extended by a discreet bleating
inside Lieutenant Gramercy’s jacket. She withdrew a cellular
telephone and conducted a brief conversation, primarily in
monosyllables. By the time she concluded it, I had worked myself up
into phrasing an extremely selfish contract: if I were not to be
considered a suspect, then she could count me in. Otherwise she was
on her own, and I would find a different avenue upon which to strut
my investigational abilities. Luckily, I never had to open my mouth
and express these sentiments.
“All right, Mr. Keane,” said Labelle Gramercy, closing her phone
with a decisive snap and slipping it into her jacket. “You are probably
not a suspect.”
“Oh. That’s a relief! How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. A drunken
panhandler had lurched into the restaurant, providing a preferred
source of distraction for our immediate neighbors at table. “I just
verified your alibi.” I swallowed hard, suppressing the upward surge
of amazement threatening to slacken my jaw and pop my eyes; she
had known about me from Iris long before my arrival at Bibliopoly.
“You haven’t been anywhere in the vicinity of Mariana S. Trench for
at least two weeks. The doorman at your apartment building
confirmed that you did not leave after arriving home from Lake
Torpid last night at eleven-thirty. Beyond that, you have a clean
record with the bar association. But I need to understand who might
benefit from her death. For that you will have to tell me about the
will. Even so, you must realize that any potential interest you have in
this case would be tainted by information I divulged concerning it.
Therefore, although you can help me, I might not consistently return
the favor.”
“That’s easy. I have no clients connected with Bibliopoly other
than the late Ms. Trench.” I thought it best to conceal my own desire
to do a little amateur sleuthing in the wake of the police. Another
thought occurred to me: “What about suicide?”
“Nothing to indicate it: no note, the sudden reaction as if taken by
surprise. We may yet find reason to conclude she took her own life,
but that would require eliminating other possibilities.”

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