The Passover Murder by Lee Harris Page B

children had taken her from the table when she broke into tears.
    “Sylvie, who was the new man Iris was going out with?”
    “I couldn’t tell you. I never met him.”
    “Iris never told you his name?”
    “If she did, I don’t remember.”
    “Could it have been someone she worked with?”
    “I don’t think so. The job was a job.”
    “I heard she worked for a wonderful man, a man who was very generous to her.”
    “Oh, he was good to her. She wouldn’t have worked for him for so long if he hadn’t been nice.”
    “Is it possible he was the new man in her life?”
    “Mr. Garganus?” She said it as though it were the most outrageous idea I could have suggested. “Well, I don’t think Iris would go out with Mr. Garganus. He was a married man with children. Iris wouldn’t go out with someone like that.”
    “But you said Harry was married, and she went out with him.”
    “Harry was different. Harry didn’t live with his wife anymore.”
    “Was Iris having any problems around that time?”
    “Problems? What kind of problems would she have? She didn’t tell me she was having problems. She looked good, she was wearing a nice dress. Iris always looked good. She had a good figure, she took care of herself. It’s very important to take care of yourself.”
    “Sylvie, do you remember Iris’s friend Shirley?”
    “Shirley Finster? I remember her very well. A lovely person.”
    “Would you have any idea how I could find her? I think she’d be a good person to talk to.”
    “Shirley? What could Shirley tell you? She wasn’t there that night.”
    “But she knew Iris well.”
    “So what? Shirley didn’t kill Iris.”
    “Do you know where Shirley lives now?”
    “I don’t have any idea. Maybe she moved to Florida.” She moved a hand as though to dismiss the subject of Shirley.
    “Is there anything else you think I should know, Sylvie? Anything that would help me find her killer?”
    “I know one thing,” she said, the damp tissue clutched in her hand. “I don’t know if I should tell you. Nobody else will.”
    I waited. “If it would help, then I should know about it,” I said.
    “I don’t know. Abe would kill me if I told.”
    “Let me give you my phone number, Sylvie. Think about it. You can call me collect and we can talk.”
    “Oh, that’s nice.” She smiled. “Yes, let’s do that. Let me think about what else I can tell you.”
    “And if you think of Harry’s last name, I’d like that, too.”
    “Abe will know. Ask him.”
    “I will.” But I had no desire to ask her brother. I felt he had enough troubles of his own right now that raking up this terrible event would not be in his best interests.
    “Then we’re finished,” Sylvie said with satisfaction, as though she had just been excused from the dentist’s chair. “I’ll get Marilyn.”
    I stood by the window, hearing their voices from the bedroom. Downstairs cars sped by, young mothers looking carefully before pushing their strollers across the Concourse. I had never seen the Champs Elysées, but if it was as beautiful as this wide thoroughfare, it must be truly magnificent.
    We said our good-byes quickly, Sylvie obviously finished with us and not anxious to have us dawdle. The sound of the bolt being turned echoed down the hall as we walked to the elevator.

7
    Marilyn was smiling. “My aunt is a character, isn’t she?”
    “Quite a character. You said she was so anxious to talk to me, but it seemed as though she was much more anxious to get rid of us.”
    “Did you learn anything useful?”
    “I’m not sure. She said Iris had a man friend named Harry who she went out with for years.”
    “Oh my goodness, Harry. I forgot all about Harry. What did she tell you?”
    “Not much, just that he was married and couldn’t get a divorce, which was why they never married, and I gather they never lived together. She said Iris didn’t want that kind of relationship. Did you know him, Marilyn?”
    “I certainly met him,