Pushing Murder by Eleanor Boylan Page B

Redmond is breathing down my neck.” I reached for my water decanter. “I hope Henry and Dan aren’t out there spilling the rest of the beans.”
    â€œNo.” Kit took the glass from me. “They know you want Dunlop kept out of it for now. But they can’t deny that Folsom’s murder and your attempted one are possibly connected.”
    â€œPossibly. I’ll give the captain possibly but no more.”
    â€œShall I let them in?”
    â€œGive me five minutes.” I settled myself grimly. “Then you may open the door of the cage. The lion tamer will be ready with her chair. And Kit”—she turned at the door—“get hold of a Fairfield, Connecticut, phone book. I want to know if Loretta Vaughan is in it.”
    â€œShe is. Dan looked her up.”
    She went out, and Sadd stood up. “Your mail is on the table beside you.”
    â€œThanks.” I glanced at it without interest.
    â€œDo you want me to stay?”
    â€œI want you to go back to Florida. You’ve been a pal.”
    He looked out the window. “And leave this platitudinously lovely white Christmas? The snow has stopped, it’s a beautifully bright afternoon, and the streets are clear. I’m tempted to take a walk.”
    â€œWhy don’t you? Henry and I used to love to walk around the Village.” I felt the old pang.
    He turned from the window. “Maybe I’ll stroll up to Cornelia Street.”
    â€œSadd! And drop in on Pushing Murder?”
    â€œWhy not? I haven’t done any Christmas shopping yet.”
    â€œWonderful!” I started to hug my knees but couldn’t. “Chat with Dwight as if everything were hunky-dory—”
    â€œI have never been able to discover the origin of that phrase.”
    â€œâ€”even though he must know you know everything. We have to keep him assured that Sal will remain oblivious.”
    â€œIn her fool’s paradise.” Sadd pulled on the dear, familiar parka. “Except that she’s no fool, which makes it worse.”
    He went out, announcing to my visitors as he passed them that he was going to “stretch his legs.”
    Henry, Dan, and Kit filed in, followed by Captain Redmond, and I said immediately, “Captain, I apologize for fibbing to you. I’m just scared to death for a friend of mine.”
    â€œI can understand that, Mrs. Gamadge.”
    They all sat down, and I played hostess. “I’d love a cup of coffee. Would anyone else?”
    No, no one would. Henry went out, and the hostess rattled on. “So you know Dan and Kit.”
    â€œSure do.” The captain smiled. “I’ve been kidding Dan about that cast. A sharp-shooting New York boy like him getting mugged.” He went on, looking not at me but at them. “You’ve got a couple of smart kids watching out for you, Mrs. Gamadge.”
    â€œDon’t I know it.”
    The captain crossed his legs and looked back at me. “Your son tells me you’ve been involved in a certain amount of crime yourself.”
    â€œI’ve dabbled,” I murmured. “It was mostly my husband…”
    â€œThen you know that the bottom line is evidence. Do you have any evidence in the Folsom murder?”
    â€œNot a shred.”
    â€œJust a hefty suspicion?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œCan I persuade you to share—”
    â€œNo. Please. No.”
    He hesitated. “I can’t pressure you, Mrs. Gamadge. You aren’t a witness and for all I know you may be on the wrong track.”
    â€œYes, yes, I may be,” I said eagerly.
    â€œBut you don’t really think so, do you?” he said. I squirmed. “How will you feel if this person kills again?”
    â€œHe won’t, as long as I keep my mouth shut.”
    â€œDo you have to keep it shut forever?”
    â€œNo. Just till Saturday.”
    He looked at me steadily. “At which point he will take off, and you