Page 105 of The Happy Month

“Harp and I got into a terrible fight after the last time you called.”

“Was there a reason for that?”

“Harp doesn’t think we should dredge up the past, that’s how he says it, ‘dredge up the past’. I don’t see the harm, though. I mean, it’s nice to think about how things were.”

“When you were friends with Vera, did she talk about her other friends?”

“Oh, she did. She was very popular.”

“Did she mention a woman named Gigi?”

She was quiet for a long time. So long in fact that I asked, “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m sorry, I was thinking. I don’t think she ever talked about anyone named Gigi, but now that you’re asking me, I don’t remember a lot of names. I just remember she mentioned different people. But now… I couldn’t tell you anyone’s name.”

“What about Manny and Virginia Marker?”

“They were in the book, weren’t they? I’d never heard of them before. Who are they?”

“Did Vera ever talk about a girlfriend whose husband beat her?”

“Heavens no. I think I would remember that. But then, well… people didn’t talk about that kind of thing then. It was considered impolite.”

“What about your husband? Would he remember?”

“Oh no, he’s useless when it comes to people’s names.”

“In Philburn’s book, he said you knew about the trip to Malibu. You don’t remember who Vera was going with?”

“I don’t remember… I think Mr. Philburn made that up. Not everything he wrote was true.”

That raised an interesting question. If she was telling the truth, then how did Philburn know about the trip to Malibu? I doubt that he went to the Academy Library. That would suggest an ambition I didn’t think he had. Georgia was lying to me.

“Maybe you didn’t really know Vera that well.”

“What? Why would you say that to me? Why are you being cruel?”

“I’m just trying to get to the truth. And I think you’re lying to me.”

I heard the phone crash into its cradle as she hung up on me. Yeah, she was lying to me. But why? What was the point?

After I got hung up on, I flipped through the TV channels and settled on an old episode of Andy Griffith’s show. I fell asleep before I could figure out what kind of trouble Barney Fife had gotten himself into this time.

The front door flew open and Junior blew in. I sprung awake, having no idea how long I’d slept.

“Well, that was traumatic. You didn’t tell me I’d have to operate machinery,” Junior said, flopping into one of the orange chairs. “I nearly lost a finger when those frightening pieces of glass crashed together.”

Just a bit of an exaggeration. He dropped a stack of copies onto the coffee table. “I’ve read every word. I’m now an expert on the Shirley Kessler murder. Ask me anything.”

“Is there a woman named Gigi mentioned?”

“No. There is not.”

“Who was the investigating officer?”

“Gunner Olavson.”

“Who was hewith?”