Hounded to Death by Laurien Berenson Page B

her throat.
    The waiter, still hovering and holding the pot, refilled her cup as soon as she set it back on the table. Good man.
    â€œBetter?” Aunt Peg inquired as Margo expelled a deep breath and sat back in her seat.
    â€œNot yet. Is Charles still dead?”
    â€œI’m afraid so.”
    â€œThen I’m going to need a hell of a lot more than coffee to get through the rest of this day. What could he have been thinking?”
    â€œCharles?” I asked.
    Silly question, I know. But since he’d been the victim presumably his death had not been his idea.
    â€œOf course Charles,” Margo snapped. “Who else are we talking about?”
    Aunt Peg’s bacon and eggs had arrived with my oatmeal. They were sitting in front of her, untouched and growing cold on the plate. Bertie, meanwhile, had tucked into her French toast like it was the first meal she’d had in a year. She doesn’t let anything distract her when there’s food in the offing.
    â€œHow is Caroline doing?” Aunt Peg asked.
    â€œBetter than you’d expect,” Margo said. “She’s a pretty tough cookie.”
    â€œEven so…”
    Margo shook her head. “If you’re waiting for hysterics, Caroline won’t be the one to supply them. She has entirely too much dignity to play out her grief in public.”
    â€œI assume she’ll go home, won’t she?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s not what she said last night.” Margo reached over and swiped a piece of bacon off Peg’s plate. “Of course I saw her before she’d spoken to the police. She might have changed her plans since then.”
    The thought of her breakfast disappearing into someone else’s mouth was enough to motivate Aunt Peg. She angled her plate away from Margo and began to eat.
    â€œShe must have been in shock when she found out,” said Bertie.
    â€œI hope,” Aunt Peg said, looking at her friend meaningfully, “that you broke the news to her gently.”
    â€œI didn’t break it to her at all. Caroline already knew.”
    That bit of information distracted us long enough for Margo to snag a square of toast from Peg’s plate.
    â€œHow?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t know. I didn’t ask. It wasn’t any of my business, was it?”
    I would have made it mine, I thought.
    â€œSpeaking of business,” said Aunt Peg. “I know how hard you’ve worked to pull this symposium together. What a shame that last night’s events have spoiled it all for you.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Margo looked surprised. “Charles’s death is certainly unfortunate, not to mention untimely. But I’m afraid I don’t see how his demise will have any bearing on my symposium.”
    Margo was either very naïve or else so totally focused on her own goals that she was failing to see the big picture. I wondered if that was why Aunt Peg had been concerned about sending her to break the news to Caroline the night before.
    â€œFor one thing,” said Bertie, “look around the dining room. I’ll bet there isn’t a single person here who’s talking about dogs, or the lecture they went to yesterday, or the ones they plan to attend today.”
    â€œSo there’s a temporary departure from the agenda,” Margo said, waving off our concerns. “Of course what happened is big news, but people will get over it and the symposium will bounce right back. You’ll see. By tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.”
    â€œThat would be a shame,” I said.
    â€œThere’s nothing shameful about it. It’s human nature, plain and simple. People pay attention to the things that are important to them—”
    â€œAnd a murder in their midst isn’t important?”
    Margo gave me a long look. “Have the police ruled Charles’s death a murder? I hadn’t heard that.”
    â€œWell, no,