.”
“Everyone knows that’s an idle threat,” Jass said. “Consuela’s a loudmouth. People don’t take her threats seriously.”
Punt shrugged. “Consuela may make idle threats, but any verbal threat against Margaux could merit police attention now that she’s dead.”
“I’ve read Consuela’s book,” Jass said, “the one that’s been published. I thought it rather good and I think it was mean-spirited of Margaux to call it sentimental and inaccurate and to refuse to look at Consuela’s new manuscript—her work in progress.”
“Even if Margaux considered the story sentimental and poorly researched, she could have helped Consuela revise it, make it better,” I said. “Consuela can be a pain, but most of us have learned to tolerate her.”
“She and Margaux butted heads every time they met,” Punt said.
“The sophisticated New Yorker meets the Cuban bombshell—and pow. Too bad they couldn’t find a common meeting ground.”
“We all need foolproof alibis.” Jass stared into the distance as she changed the subject. “We know Dad attended the fishing tournament…”
“We know Dad said he planned to attend the weekend fishing tournament,” Punt said. “None of us actually saw him there.”
“You surely don’t suspect Dad.” Jass stood and glared at Punt. “You’ll be suspecting me next.”
“I’m going to suspect everyone until I know all the facts,” Punt said, “and don’t forget the possibility that Margaux might have been done in by a street person.”
“A total stranger?” I asked. “You’ve got to be kidding. How can we check out every street person in Key West? Why would a street person have motive?”
“Maybe we’re getting too deep into this suspect stuff,” Jass said.
“Yeah, right. Maybe we are,” I said. “Remember, we’re not detectives. We’ve no authority. We can’t go up to people and ask them where they were from ten until midnight last night.”
“I think we can do that,” Jass said. “Maybe we can’t approach and question street people, but Keely, think about this. You talk to most of these suspects on a weekly basis as your regular customers. Surely working in a little conversation about Margaux’s death would be easy enough. It’ll be the subject du jour for weeks to come.”
“Maybe so.” I shook my head in doubt. “Her death will be the talk of the Keys…but…”
“Right,” Jass said. “You could begin a conversation by ‘remembering’ where you were and the designated time. You could even talk a bit, reluctantly of course, about discovering Margaux’s body. Then you could subtly ask your customer where he was and how he heard the news.”
“That might work, I suppose,” I said. “Most of the suspects are my steady customers. Even Nikko took treatments to help me get started when my office was new, but once I became established he cut his appointments to once a month. I’ll have to check my calendar, but I’m fairly sure he has an appointment soon.”
“I could talk to Nikko, too,” Jass said. “I’ve been eating at The Wharfa lot since they’ve been planning my hibiscus show there on Thursday. Even if my special blossom doesn’t win first place in today’s Miami competition, the manager at The Wharfis going on with the show anyway. Good advertising for both of us, he says. Anyway, when I eat there, I usually stop by the kitchen to compliment Nikko on his cooking.”
“Gram talks to Nikko a lot when he visits her shop to pick up supplies,” I said. “She could quiz him, too. In fact, I’m sure she’d like to. Gram’s curious and she wants to keep on top of things.”
Punt had stayed out of this conversation, but now the way he cleared his throat demanded our attention. “Don’t forget that Nikko’s my detective partner,” Punt said.
“That doesn’t place him above suspicion,” Jass said.
“There’s another suspect we’ve forgotten to mention, women.” Punt stood and began
“Everyone knows that’s an idle threat,” Jass said. “Consuela’s a loudmouth. People don’t take her threats seriously.”
Punt shrugged. “Consuela may make idle threats, but any verbal threat against Margaux could merit police attention now that she’s dead.”
“I’ve read Consuela’s book,” Jass said, “the one that’s been published. I thought it rather good and I think it was mean-spirited of Margaux to call it sentimental and inaccurate and to refuse to look at Consuela’s new manuscript—her work in progress.”
“Even if Margaux considered the story sentimental and poorly researched, she could have helped Consuela revise it, make it better,” I said. “Consuela can be a pain, but most of us have learned to tolerate her.”
“She and Margaux butted heads every time they met,” Punt said.
“The sophisticated New Yorker meets the Cuban bombshell—and pow. Too bad they couldn’t find a common meeting ground.”
“We all need foolproof alibis.” Jass stared into the distance as she changed the subject. “We know Dad attended the fishing tournament…”
“We know Dad said he planned to attend the weekend fishing tournament,” Punt said. “None of us actually saw him there.”
“You surely don’t suspect Dad.” Jass stood and glared at Punt. “You’ll be suspecting me next.”
“I’m going to suspect everyone until I know all the facts,” Punt said, “and don’t forget the possibility that Margaux might have been done in by a street person.”
“A total stranger?” I asked. “You’ve got to be kidding. How can we check out every street person in Key West? Why would a street person have motive?”
“Maybe we’re getting too deep into this suspect stuff,” Jass said.
“Yeah, right. Maybe we are,” I said. “Remember, we’re not detectives. We’ve no authority. We can’t go up to people and ask them where they were from ten until midnight last night.”
“I think we can do that,” Jass said. “Maybe we can’t approach and question street people, but Keely, think about this. You talk to most of these suspects on a weekly basis as your regular customers. Surely working in a little conversation about Margaux’s death would be easy enough. It’ll be the subject du jour for weeks to come.”
“Maybe so.” I shook my head in doubt. “Her death will be the talk of the Keys…but…”
“Right,” Jass said. “You could begin a conversation by ‘remembering’ where you were and the designated time. You could even talk a bit, reluctantly of course, about discovering Margaux’s body. Then you could subtly ask your customer where he was and how he heard the news.”
“That might work, I suppose,” I said. “Most of the suspects are my steady customers. Even Nikko took treatments to help me get started when my office was new, but once I became established he cut his appointments to once a month. I’ll have to check my calendar, but I’m fairly sure he has an appointment soon.”
“I could talk to Nikko, too,” Jass said. “I’ve been eating at The Wharfa lot since they’ve been planning my hibiscus show there on Thursday. Even if my special blossom doesn’t win first place in today’s Miami competition, the manager at The Wharfis going on with the show anyway. Good advertising for both of us, he says. Anyway, when I eat there, I usually stop by the kitchen to compliment Nikko on his cooking.”
“Gram talks to Nikko a lot when he visits her shop to pick up supplies,” I said. “She could quiz him, too. In fact, I’m sure she’d like to. Gram’s curious and she wants to keep on top of things.”
Punt had stayed out of this conversation, but now the way he cleared his throat demanded our attention. “Don’t forget that Nikko’s my detective partner,” Punt said.
“That doesn’t place him above suspicion,” Jass said.
“There’s another suspect we’ve forgotten to mention, women.” Punt stood and began
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