the army, for many years with the Chicago police department, he remained close to Jane, especially since Steve died and left her 'a helpless widow' in his words. She turned off the television, went to the kitchen, and dialed his precinct telephone number. He'd gone for the day, she was told. There was no answer at his apartment yet.
While she waited, she got out some ground beef and onions to brown. Ten minutes later, when they were nearly done, Shelley came over. 'Jane, did you see the news? Your friend was all over it.'
“I know. Did you see my Uncle Jim in the background? I'm waiting for him to get home so I can pump him for information.'
“He's not crazy about giving you inside information, is he?'
“I want 'outside' information,' Jane said, carefully draining the meat and onion mixture and adding beans and tomato sauce. 'John Wagner was here. Shelley, it was weird. He was nice. Nice!'
“Jane, have you considered getting psychiatric help? You're going to clog up your disposal if you don't run cold water.”
Jane turned on the water. 'I mean it about John Wagner. He even apologized for being so hateful about volleyball.'
“He must have really wanted something.'
“From me?' Jane asked, shaking chili seasoning into the pot and stirring. 'All he asked was that I help him look over Phyllis's things to see if anything was there that shouldn't be. Of course, he'd barely gotten here when the news came on, and he dashed off. I've never seen a man look so upset. He even seemed genuinely sorry about Phyllis, and then there as that picture of Chet being led away, and John turned the color of cauliflower.'
“I've got to go back to fixing dinner,' Shelley said. 'Call and tell me what you find out from your Uncle Jim, will you?'
“Say, Shelley—what are you doing after dinner?'
“Nothing planned. Why?'
“Well, I'd like to do what John Wagner was asking—look through Phyllis's things—and get it over with. He made me feel horribly guilty, saying I'd know what was hers just because I knew her so well. The fact is, you and I might know if something isn't hers just because we're women. I mean, Steve once saw me using a nail whitening pencil and said he'd always wondered what they were. His mother always had one around. He thought it was some secret feminine hygiene thing you don't talk about. I guess that's sort of an opposite example of what I mean, but —'
“I get it anyhow. I don't think you'll find anything interesting, but sure—I'll come along. How do you plan to get into the house?'
“Last I heard, Bobby was staying there.' Shelley shuddered. 'I forgot about him. Do you think we ought to get near him? What if he is the murderer?'
“There's safety in numbers. Besides, he'd have no reason to do anything to us.”
Jane fed everybody, drove Mike to band practice, dropped Todd at a friend's house, and took Katie to her pal Jenny's, whose mother had offered to take them to a teen fashion show at the mall. Certain they all had rides home, Jane came back for Shelley. 'Let me give Uncle Jim one more try,' she said, stamping the snow off her boots at Shelley's kitchen door.
This time she got him.
“Hey, Janey. You calling to uninvite me to Saturday dinner?' he asked.
“Don't get your hopes up. Mike is counting on you coming to his concert, and I've already got the sauerbraten marinating. I'm calling because I saw you on television this afternoon.'
“Oh, yeah. The Wagner thing. VanDyne is in charge. Did you know that?'
“I not only know it, I'm a suspect. Phyllis was a friend of mine. In fact, she'd come to Chicago to visit me.'
“My God, Jane! The things you get into.'
“I didn't get into it. It came looking for me. Uncle Jim, what do you know about this?'
“Up until now, nothing. I was just asked to have a man or two at the exits in case there was trouble. There wasn't. Jane, if I'd known you were involved—'
“Don't get upset. I'm not involved. But I want to know what's happening. Have they actually arrested Chet Wagner?'
“Not that I know of. Like I say, I didn't take much interest. I had the idea it was just a matter of time. Give me an hour or two to see what I can find out. I'll call you back. You home?”
Jane paused. 'Ah—no. I'm at Shelley' s, and we're going—going Christmas shopping.”
But the pause had alerted him. 'Jane,' he said menacingly. 'You stay away from all this, understand?'
“Well, of course. Don't be ridiculous. I'll call you back when I get home.' She hung up the phone and said, 'Let's get out of here quick before he decides to come babysit me.”
The police boundary tape was gone, and the rented Jaguar was in the driveway. Bobby came to the door with a drink in his hand. 'Yeah? Whaddaya want?'
“I'm Jane Jeffry, and this is Shelley Nowack. Remember us from yesterday? I loaned your mother a book, and I wondered if it would be all right if I went up and got it back.' Jane was rather proud of this little story. It had crossed her mind on the way over that asking to browse through Phyllis's belongings for clues might not please Bobby. And if he was the killer, they certainly didn't want to offer him a motive to harm them.
“Yeah, I guess it's okay. The cops have already gone through all her stuff,' he said, apparently not fooled in the least by Jane's story.
He opened the door and allowed them in. Jane noted that he was already making a shambles of the house. Clothing was strewn around, beer bottles were making rings on the dining room table, and several ashtrays overflowed with butts.
Bobby slouched toward the kitchen, leaving Shelley and Jane to their own devices. That was good; he didn't intend to stand over them while they went through her things.
At the top of the stairs, Shelley grabbed Jane's arm. 'Look at that!' she said, pointing toward the master suite. In addition to the unmade bed, clothing and suitcases flung everywhere, there was an elaborate sound system on the far wall next to the door to the deck.
“That wasn't here this morning,' Jane whispered.
“I've been pricing this stuff for Paul for Christmas, and take my word for it, that's at least $3000 worth of equipment.'
“I guess he ran out and used his mother's credit cards to the limit before Chet thought to have them shut off. What a bastard!”
Turning their backs on the evidence of Bobby's greed, they went into the small bedroom Phyllis had died in. Jane let out a long breath of relief. The blood-soaked mattress and bedding had been removed. The rest of the room, however, was in chaos. Suitcases gaped open with clothing tumbling out. The perfume and makeup on the dressing table looked like someone had rummaged through it with a heavy hand. 'The police went through this. They certainly made a mess,' Jane said, frowning.
“I don't think this is the way the police would work. This has a distinctly Bobby look. I bet he was searching for something.'
“But what?'
“Maybe he thought she had a lot of cash hidden in her suitcases. Maybe she did. That might account for the stereo and tape deck and all.”
Jane looked around the room sadly. 'This isn't right. We can't leave it this way. I wouldn't like Chet to ever see her things this way.'
“Chet? Chet's probably in the slammer right now for having killed her.'
“I know that, but I still don't believe he could have. Let's clean this up and get out.”
The box springs were still on the bed frame, and the two women set the four big suitcases and the overnight case there to start filling them. Item by item they started picking up clothing, folding and repacking it. Everything was of excellent quality. Handmade French silk underwear, Scottish woolen skirts and dresses, a Bob Mackie evening dress, a stunning Michaele Vollbracht swimsuit, though God knew where she'd intended to wear that!
“Look at this,' Shelley said. She'd picked up a magenta silk dressing gown with a pink appliqueed
