“What about the others? Bob Jr. and Nancy and even
Jim?” Renie asked. “Could one of them have used
Margie?”
“As ‘the vessel’?” Judith gave her cousin an ironic
smile. “Maybe. But why kill the other two? We haven’t
seen any connection between Joaquin Somosa and
Joan Fremont and Bob Randall Sr.—except that they
were all well-known, successful individuals.”
Renie looked thoughtful. “I know that Margie and
Jim both evinced a certain amount of sadness at the
time of Bob’s death. But then they let loose, and the funeral hasn’t even taken place yet. What do you think?
Denial? Relief? Hysteria?”
Slowly Judith shook her head. “It’s impossible to
figure out because we don’t know them. You have to
consider who benefits from any or all of the three
deaths. Apparently, not the Randalls. Bob Sr. was
worth more to them alive. Stage actresses in repertory
SUTURE SELF
273
theaters don’t earn that much. Of course you have to
consider insurance policies, but would Joan or Bob
have had huge amounts? That means expensive premiums. Bob was probably insured to the max when in his
playing days, but the team, not Margie, probably was
the beneficiary. And he didn’t really play ball in the era
of million-dollar quarterbacks.”
“Somosa might have had a big personal policy, since
he did play in the era of million-dollar pitchers,” Renie
pointed out. “But Mrs. Somosa was in the Dominican
Republic when Joan and Bob died. That bursts that
balloon.”
Judith looked startled. “What?”
“I said, that bursts that . . .”
“Balloons,” Judith broke in. “What about the guy
who delivered the balloons and the cardboard cutout to
Bob’s room after he came back from surgery? Did you
get a good look at him?”
“No,” Renie confessed. “He went by too fast. And I
was still sort of groggy. The only thing I really remember besides what he was carrying was that his
shoes didn’t match.”
“Interesting.” Judith paused for a moment. “What
if he also delivered the Wild Turkey? They must
know at the desk who came in.”
“Probably,” Renie said, then stopped as a chattering
stream of people began to filter down the hall, accompanied by TV equipment and snaking cables.
“It must be the newshounds arriving for Blanche’s
announcement,” Judith said. “Help me get into the
wheelchair. I want to hear this.”
It was a bit of a struggle, but the cousins managed it.
