Law and Disorder by Mary Jane Maffini Page B

to a small glass of red. I sank into a battered leather club chair, which felt quite heavenly, and accepted a red wine goblet filled to the brim. “I was just offering condolences to Madame Cardarelle, and I realized you lived next door.” Close enough to the truth. I did have to admit that I sounded as stilted as a stuffed bird.
    “Now I’ll have to have a double,” Coco said, swinging a bottle of something, “because that’s just too weird for words. I hope you don’t think for one minute that I believe you, Camilla.”
    “Why not? What’s wrong with condolences? Madame Cardarelle seems lovely.”
    Coco took a sip of her whatever it was, and took a seat in the opposite club chair. She crossed her legs, elegantly. “In an icy, repressed way, I suppose. But he was a gold-plated bastard. Don’t bother to deny it.”
    I didn’t plan to deny it. “No kidding. What’s the story?”
    “Did she seem broken up about it?” Coco arched an eyebrow and giggled.
    “Not in the least. No emotion whatsoever.”
    She said, “And you think she killed him?”
    A splot of wine slopped from my glass as she asked that. I snatched a tissue to wipe it up. “What makes you say that?”
    She shrugged. “Because you were there. And I know you like to meddle in murder. Every time I open the paper, there you are up to your armpits in one.”
    “I do not like to meddle in murder.”
    She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
    “Fine. Do you think she might have killed him?”
    “I certainly would have bumped off the old bastard. Well, I probably would have divorced him long before I felt like murdering him. And I like to think I wouldn’t have married someone like him in the first place.” She shivered. “Those jowls.”
    “But she didn’t divorce him.”
    “No.”
    “And he treated her badly?”
    “I don’t mean he beat her or anything. But he was a vile man, cold, manipulative, and I am absolutely certain she never had a happy day in her married life.”
    “I got that sense too, when she spoke, although she didn’t put it into words. So you’re insinuating she’d have reason to kill him. Do you think she polished him off?”
    She said, “That’s just wishful thinking on my part.”
    “Stop teasing me, Coco. Why not?”
    “For one thing, she was in hospital having a hysterectomy. She was still in the recovery room when he died.”
    “That must be why there was no funeral or visitation,” I said.
    “It certainly allowed her an out. She wouldn’t have had to pretend in front of his colleagues, who were probably glad he died too. I mean he wasn’t like any other judge I ever met. Then there was his family. I don’t think she got along with them.”
    “I read that he died of anaphylactic shock.”
    “Nuts. A long time allergy. He always carried an epi-pen.”
    “Let’s just speculate. Do you think she could have arranged to leave the nuts at home before she went into the hospital? Maybe hid his epi-pen?” Of course, I wasn’t sure how a joke would fit into this scenario.
    “It didn’t happen at home, though. He had gone out for a walk. I saw him leave at least forty-five minutes before they told me he died. He couldn’t have eaten any nuts at that point, because he was fine. Not that he spoke to me or even acknowledged my presence.”
    “Did he forget his pen?”
    “I heard that it was found by his hand and that it was working. A fluke, everyone said. I was just kidding about murder. If it was anyone else, I’d have thought what a terrible tragedy. But the world is better off without this man. Don’t quote me.”
    “This is very nice wine.” A non-sequitur for sure, but I wanted to get my head around this information.
    “Well, it should be a nice wine,” Coco said, without bothering to explain. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
    I thought for a minute. Coco liked to talk and I didn’t want this story spread all over town, at least until I understood it. Finally, I said, “Can you