Boner a hand up onto the stage. The two men had a brief discussion and the DJ rummaged in his case of CDs. It wasn't long before the familiar strains of 'The Surrey with the Fringe on Top' issued from the huge speakers and I groaned.
'Not again! Can the man not try something new?'
Boner grabbed the mike and was just about to launch into the first verse when a high-pitched voice cried:
'Oh do wait for Gigi! I simply adore a little Rogers and Hammerstein! Let's sing a duet!'
For once, Mrs. Goldfinkel was not dressed in her signature pink. It was unclear which male member of the present company had loaned her an outfit but he had to be an extrovert. The suit was scarlet with broad, sequin- encrusted lapels. Harry sniggered as the Black Widow bounced up to the stage and grasped a second microphone with consummate glee.
'Bloody hell, it's Liberace!'
'Shh! Hee hee! Boner's furious at being upstaged – just look at his face.'
'Never mind his face, he seems to have a bad case of ants in his pants. Funny that.'
Mrs. Goldfinkel had started to sing in a shrill soprano but my ex seemed unable to utter a note. His long lilac frock twitched from side to side as he shuddered and squirmed. I hissed at Harry, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
'Did you put itching powder in his Y-fronts? How on earth did you manage that?'
'Nope. Better than that. Keep watching.'
'Chicks and geese and ducks better scurry…'
'Aaahh!'
The Black Widow shot Boner a rather perplexed look but kept on singing like a trouper, as her partner howled, then inexplicably fell over backwards and started to break-dance. It wasn't long before his curly brunette wig flew off and landed on Miss Swat's chest with a resounding hairy smack.
'Watch that fringe and see how it flutters…'
'Ooyahooyahooyah!!!'
'Well, ah'll be damned, if that's not the final straw!'
The Swat glared malevolently at the disheveled hairpiece, which perched upon her outsized boobs like a lap dog in need of a session at the poodle parlor. There was a great trembling in her bosom, as if her breasts formed the epicenter of some fleshy earthquake. Accompanied by an anguished scream, her bust collapsed, Boner's wig falling to a forlorn fuzzy heap upon the dance-floor. Wild with fury, the blonde thrust an accusing finger at Dunnett, who blanched and tried to shrink back into the crowd.
'He done it! Jezebel indeed!'
Meanwhile Mrs. Goldfinkel was doing her utmost to keep the show going, to a fascinating syncopated rhythm from the drumming of Boner's running shoes against the floor of the stage. He now appeared to be wrestling with the Invisible Man. It was very unusual, if not avant-garde entertainment.
'The cows'll moo in the clover…'
Loretta Swat was jumping up and down, her boobs protruding from the approximate level of her belly button. Inspector Parrott looked like an unshockable kind of chap but even his eyebrows had hit the upper level. Dr. Dunnett was backing away from the blonde advancing upon his velvet clad form with a murderous glint in her thickly lashed eyes.
'You'all are nuttin' but a charlatan.'
The Deep South swiftly segued into Brooklyn, as Miss Swat met her busty Waterloo. Dr. Dunnett continued to retreat, the crowd parting smoothly for him like the Red Sea did for Moses.
'Now, now, Larry!'
There was a stunned silence.
It's quite hard to stun a silence. You have to hit it very hard, or more than once. This silence took a bit of a battering.
Dr. Dunnett tripped backward over the door jamb and disappeared out into the night.
Miss Swat grabbed a carving knife from the buffet table and leapt through the door after him.
Boner started jumping up and down with both feet at the back of the stage.
An unpleasant crunching sound came from my handbag.
Inspector Parrot shot through the door after Dunnett and Swat with the look of a policeman who knew how to take knives away from fallen blondes.
Boner collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Frippery fainted.
Mrs. Goldfinkel finished her song with a flourish of, '…Surrey with the Fringe – on – the – Top!' and bowed deeply.
That's how you stun a silence.
I let it go on for a few seconds then rose to my feet and applauded once more. After a few more seconds I realized I was on my own and sat down, with as sheepish an expression as I can manage when I am trying not to laugh my head off.
'Larry? Who's Larry?'
'Wouldn't we like to know, my dear? And we shall. A boy's name, I fancy. And I have a feeling the good doctor was addressing the bounteous Loretta at the time.'
'Rhymes with Harry… no, there couldn't be two of you!'
I let that one go so as not to spoil the pleasure of watching Boner crawl across the floor to his scraggy fainted wife. Frippery raised herself on one arm as he approached and wiped the back of a hand across her brow.
Boner's clothes seemed to be rather shredded, and on closer examination his exposed skin was covered in scratches. I took the coffin out of my bag and opened it.
'Oh dear! What a way to go!'
Jay peered into the box and shuddered.
'I'll tell the animal cruelty people! What a mess…'
The cockroach was well and truly stomped. Its carapace was fractured and bits of leg had gathered in the bottom of the box.
'Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…' I intoned as I surreptitiously tipped the mortal remains of the insect into the evening bag of the aspiring authoress at the next table.
When I looked up Boner and Frip had disappeared. I gave the coffin a rattle for luck and replaced it in my bag. I hadn't finished with it yet – or Boner.
On second thoughts I took it out again and poured in half a glass of someone's sticky liqueur. With any luck he had just lain down on the bed.
On third thoughts I stuck an ice cube between the effigy's legs. That was enough thoughts for now.
'Behave yourself, Harry Neptune. Get back to detecting. Why Larry?'
'Now why should a female person be addressed by the name of a male person? Confusion engendered by the cross-dressing theme of the evening perhaps? No, none of the disguises are that good.'
I puffed the imaginary pipe again.
'Larry is actually a girl's name in the Deep South or the Bronx or wherever la Swat really hails from? Not in my experience.'
I made pipe-sucking noises to aid cerebration. Jay rolled her eyes.
'So once again we must eliminate the impossible to leave…'
'Swat's a guy. Or was a guy.'
Miss Lawrence folded her arms with an air of finality.
'I think you may have hit the nail on the head. For sixty-four dollars – drum roll – who did the snipping and enhancing? Take your time…'
Jay screwed her visage up into an expression of pained introspection.
