Chapter 43

“All men are vile.” Frances Noonan could have predicted Harriet Flynn would utter this very phrase. Frances had finished her tale about Serena and her brother and Spencer Tremaine. The Fog Ladies, including Sarah, were in Alma Gordon’s apartment. Baby Owen had run from one lady to another as they filed in, almost tripping tall Enid Carmichael. Owen was staying there while Chantrelle was in town. Mr. Glenn had watched him all day and made a hasty departure as soon as the ladies arrived, saying he was going home to nap and that toddlers were energetic little tikes.

“Remember, don’t steal third with less than two outs,” he had said to Owen as he left.

“Two outs,” Baby Owen repeated.

“Bedtime,” Mrs. Gordon said and shooed him into the bedroom. She was back in no time, setting out tea and packages of cookies as Mrs. Noonan spoke.

Frances Noonan sank back into Alma Gordon’s cushy couch and sipped her tea, pleased to be in this apartment with no extra emotion, no envy, no unkind thoughts.

“So…the brother, huh?” rasped Olivia Honeycut. “Killed his sister’s husband for insurance he recommended himself.”

“The perfect crime,” said Enid Carmichael. “Except that now he’s saddled with two small children. Seems like too much trouble to me.”

“But it is suspicious, don’t you think?” said Mrs. Noonan.

“Not nearly as suspicious as this Tremaine character,” said Harriet Flynn.

Mrs. Gordon put her hands to her ears. “I can’t believe the Spencer Tremaine is so unseemly. On television he makes it seem like he cares.”

“Believe it,” said Mrs. Noonan. “It’s pretty much the same spiel Julia Blackwell got, just toned down. I think there’s more here than meets the eye.”

“Women, gambling, fights. Not to mention his association with murderers. He is not leading the life of the Lord,” said Harriet Flynn.

“He does know his way around killers,” said Enid Carmichael.

“Paul Blackwell is not a killer,” said Mrs. Noonan. “And Serena says she didn’t do it either.”

“That’s what they all say,” said Olivia Honeycut. “We know for certain the Baker Beach killer did it.”

Mrs. Noonan surveyed the room. She had pondered something the whole drive back. “I know this is far-fetched, but do you think there could be a connection between Spencer Tremaine and all these killings?”

“I was wondering the same thing myself,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

Of course she would agree, Mrs. Noonan thought. She was always on the lookout for a conspiracy theory.

Sarah, who sat in the corner looking as dreamy as Alma Gordon these days, sat up and shook her head. “Come on. How could he possibly be involved?”

“He deals with killers all day long. Maybe he has a killer’s mind,” said Mrs. Carmichael.

“Maybe he wants business,” Mrs. Honeycut said slowly. “Maybe he’s creating business.”

“By killing married people?” asked Sarah. “Too bad you ran into Helen and Scott, then. I’m sorry I told Helen about that photo studio.”

“You told her because I told you, so I’m sorry too,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“You think Spencer Tremaine is a killer?” said Mrs. Gordon. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.”

“It would actually be pretty clever,” said Mrs. Noonan. “He could kill one spouse and incriminate the other but leave some crack in the case so he could save the day and get the accused off the hook.”

“And get some of the million dollars for himself,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

“A brilliant scheme!” said Mrs. Carmichael.

“Except he hasn’t gotten anybody off,” said Sarah. “Paul Blackwell and Serena Evans are still in jail.”

“Yes, that’s a problem,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“You ladies are too much,” said Sarah.

“But you have to admit, it’s a pretty good idea,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“No one would do that just for money,” said Mrs. Gordon. “Not Spencer Tremaine. Not Serena Evans’s brother.”

“Paul Blackwell and Serena Evans herself supposedly did it for money,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“And Joseph Stalk, the adulterer,” said Mrs. Flynn.

“And for Spencer Tremaine, it’s not just money,” said Mrs. Carmichael. “It’s money and fame.”

“Maybe it’s time we found out who Joseph Stalk’s lawyer was,” Mrs. Noonan said.

“No!” Mrs. Gordon protested. “Spencer Tremaine is not involved. You might as well find out more about Joseph’s Stalk’s brother-in-law, then. He and Evelyn have little Joey’s insurance money. Anyway, it can’t be Spencer Tremaine. He’s already famous. He’s a celebrity. He doesn’t need more.”

“There’s never too much ‘more,’ too much fame,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

“And we don’t know how desperate he is for money,” said Mrs. Carmichael. “Remember, he gambles. There may not be that many cases of rich murderers to support that kind of lifestyle.”

“But these are real people he has to deal with. He would have to work with them and see the destruction he’s caused,” said Sarah. “No one would do that. Or if you did, you’d choose couples without children.”

“Good point,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

“They don’t have life insurance,” said Mrs. Noonan. “Remember, the Stalks only got theirs because they were going to have a baby. Most people don’t need life insurance like this.”

“Another good point,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

That was the beauty of the Fog Ladies, Mrs. Noonan thought. So many points, so many ideas.

“No.” Mrs. Gordon mindlessly stroked Baby Owen’s bear. “It’s impossible. The man has children himself. Think of little Joey Stalk. And Ben. And these two girls of Serena’s. No one would do that to a child, for money, for fame.” Her voice rose. “Children are delicate creatures. You can’t yank them from place to place, not knowing who’s going to take care of them, who’s going to love them. No one would do that.”

“And yet we are supposed to believe that their very own parents did just that,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“Only because they got caught,” said Mrs. Carmichael. “Otherwise they would be sitting pretty, money rolling in, children intact. And rid of their pesky spouse. Why didn’t I think of this?”

“Because it involves murder,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

“That didn’t stop someone out there,” said Mrs. Noonan.