A Cast of Killers by Katy Munger

just along for the ride."
    "Not anymore you're not," Auntie Lil
promised. "And she was most definitely poisoned. We'll know more
when you get us a peek at the autopsy report, Lilah dear."
    Lilah nodded calmly. Obtaining an autopsy
report was child's play for her. T.S. wondered jealously if the
task entailed another call to the gnomish Dr. Millerton.
    "I'm sure the police can handle it from
here," T.S. tried telling Auntie Lil. He knew protests were useless
but felt that decorum called for some sort of halt to arms.
    Auntie Lil stared at him. "I'm sure the
police won't care a whit."
    He sighed. Once she had it in her head that
she was locking horns with the New York Police Department, there
was no stopping Auntie Lil. She had a point to prove and honor to
avenge, thanks to a long-simmering feud between them that had
started more than three decades ago when a young patrolman had had
the nerve to cite her for running a red light in broad daylight in
front of a grammar school. Auntie Lil's defense—that the middle of
the block was a stupid place for a red light and no children were
around—had not played well in front of the judge. Especially since,
in a display of rookie enthusiasm, the patrolman had actually
showed up in court, describing Auntie Lil's impulsive behavior and
colorful vocabulary with a flair for overacting not seen since the
days of silent movies. Auntie Lil had zero tolerance for being
imitated and promptly hit him with her pocket-book in front of the
judge, thus ensuring an enormous fine and narrowly escaping a token
jail term.
    Thus had war been declared between Auntie Lil
and the police, a feud underscored since by the City's continuous
failure to instill its officers with the need for treating
law-abiding citizens with a minimum of respect. Ever since the
expensive incident, Auntie Lil had relentlessly kept track of her
every contact with the NYPD and T.S. had to admit that very few had
been pleasant, despite a lack of provocation from Auntie Lil. Even
the most innocuous questions, such as asking directions, seemed to
irritate the overworked force. And, of course, once Auntie Lil ran
up against Lieutenant Abromowitz any residual respect or sympathy
for the NYPD went right out the window. But that was another
story.
    There were more important matters on Auntie
Lil's mind now. "Why would anyone kill a harmless old lady?" she
asked, enraptured by the intricacies the mystery promised. She
stared into space and slowly twirled a white curl absently around a
finger.
    "Perhaps it was a random killing?" Lilah
suggested, impervious to the skeptical expression triggered by her
remark. "Some nut case." Her voice slowed and she shivered
delicately. "Perhaps they intended to kill someone else."
    Now that was a good point, T.S. felt.
    "No." Auntie Lil shook her head firmly. "She
was the only one poisoned. It had to have been added to her portion
alone. No one would know it was hers unless it was on her tray. I'm
sure it was intended for her. How absolutely efficient they
were."
    "Thanks to your chili. The perfect disguise
for poison," T.S. added pointedly.
    "They'd have gotten her if we'd been serving
egg custard," Auntie Lil protested. "And the caustic effect on her
stomach lining was caused by the poison, not by my chili. I don't
care what you say."
    "Caustic effect on her stomach?" Lilah echoed
faintly. She finished the rest of her drink in a sudden, unladylike
gulp.
    Grady rescued her before T.S. had the chance.
"Perhaps, madam, you might care for another drink?" he suggested
tactfully. Lilah's dismayed face dominated the rearview mirror.
    "We haven't got time for that now," Auntie
Lil declared. Her brow furrowed as she stared into the depths of
her pocketbook for divine guidance. "We've got to come up with a
plan at once and move quickly before the police take over
everything and ruin it. Dr. Millerton will notify them tomorrow,
I'm sure of it. We must have a plan in place by then."
    T.S.—who did not share her