Rogues Gallery by Dan Andriacco Page A

point?”
    â€œMy point is that I am rather sure you did know him, and that is the reason you called him by what has been described as a ‘pet name.’ I find names quite interesting. You prefer to be called Beth, invariably a shortened form of Elizabeth. Elizabeth Bennet is a rather famous name from the classic novel Pride and Prejudice , one well known to devotees of Jane Austen - such as Kathy Bell.”
    In one fluid movement, he stood from his wheelchair and pulled off both her hat and her pointed mustache.
    â€œKathy!” Bob Tucker cried. He almost swallowed his lollipop.
    â€œYes,” Lynda said slowly. “She hasn’t changed much. I saw her on the streets a few times back then, although her parents would never let me talk to her. I probably wouldn’t have recognized her if I hadn’t known that’s who she was, but she couldn’t know that for sure. That’s why the scrubs when she flagged us down.”
    â€œThere’s nothing illegal about changing my name before I came back to this narrow-minded town,” Kathy/Beth said. “And you can’t prove I did anything else.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that,” Oscar said. “There may be some physical evidence at what’s left of the crime scene. I’d like you to come with me to answer a few questions.”
    I had my eye on the Poirot walking stick leaned against a wall behind Kathy Bell, alert for any quick movement in that direction. But she just crossed her arms over her flattened chest. “I’m not going anywhere or saying anything until I get a lawyer.”
    â€œMay I recommend Erica Slade?” Mac said. “She revels in difficult cases.”
    â€œWell, we sure know how to throw a party, don’t we, sweetie?” Mo Russert raised a glass of red wine to Jonathan Hawes and downed it.
    It was past midnight. The McCabes, the Codys, and the lovebirds were the last holdouts, sitting around a coffee table. Lynda had removed her wig, giving free rein to her honey-blond curls. Mac was ready to do what he does best - quaff beer and fill in the blanks. But this time there wasn’t much left to tell.
    â€œThe whole town, certainly including her parents, considered Kathy Bell a victim,” he said. “But she didn’t. She romanticized her relationship with Pete Duffy into a forbidden but genuine love, a perspective that apparently only grew through the years. And as it did, so did her bitterness at those involved in putting Duffy in jail. Perhaps she especially hated you for the stories you wrote, Lynda, because you were a woman.”
    Lynda wisely avoided commentary on Mac’s amateur psychoanalysis and stuck to the facts. “I remember several widely reported cases around the country in recent years of female teachers who were convicted of having sex with a minor student, then resumed the relationship after serving prison time.”
    Instead of noting that I’d never been that fond of any of my female teachers, I said, “So after Pete Duffy died, she went totally round the bend and came back here hell-bent on revenge. And Lynda was her number one target. She adopted a phony name and avoided people that she thought might recognize her.”
    Mac had beer in his mouth, so he just nodded.
    â€œI must have told her that Lynda and Jeff were coming to the party, although I don’t remember that,” Mo said. “I do remember that she told me she was a nurse. That explains where she got the scrubs and the anesthesia or whatever sleep-inducing drug she used. But how could she become a nurse under an assumed name?”
    â€œI think it more likely that she was a student nurse somewhere far from here under her real name,” Mac said.
    â€œAnd how and where did she get the explosives?” I wondered.
    Mac shrugged. “We may never know, old boy.”
    â€œI’m worried about that old boyfriend who blew the whistle on Kathy and