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Chapter 31

Marge had gone down to the station house to see her husband, the jailbird. She encountered an immovable object in the shape of her own brother.

“No, you can’t see him, Marge,” said Alec. “He’s a murder suspect, and the only one that can see him right now is his lawyer, which he doesn’t have. Yet.”

She planted her hands on her hips and gave her brother the look of a woman who wasn’t going to be messed with. A woman who’d once discovered a stack of dirty magazines under her brother’s bed and had proceeded to hand them to their mother and ask what the people in those magazines were doing. Alec had been grounded for the rest of the summer. ‘I did it once, I can do it again,’ her look seemed to say. Alec wilted.

“Alec Lip,” she now said, her voice brooking no nonsense. “You listen to me and you listen good. You and Tex are practically brothers. In fact it’s not an exaggeration to say that he’s the brother you never had. You certainly love him like a brother, don’t you?”

“Why, yes, I do, but—”

“And you’re going to stand there and tell me he can’t even receive a visit from his own wife—your sister? Shame on you.”

“But—”

“Shame on you!”

Alec sighed. It was obvious he was thinking how hard it is to be a cop in times like these, when your own relatives start beaning people they don’t like with baseball bats—aluminum or otherwise—and having wives that just happen to be your younger sister.

“I can’t, Marge. If Mayor Butterwick found out she’d have my badge.”

They were standing in the police precinct lobby, and Dolores Peltz, who combined desk sergeant duties with dispatch tasks, had pricked up her ears and was drinking in every single word of the back-and-forth between brother and sister. Free entertainment, she seemed to consider this minor showdown. Better thanGrey’s Anatomy.

“Who cares what Charlene Butterwick thinks! He’s my husband and I want to see him. Now!”

“What’s all this screaming and shouting?” asked Charlene Butterwick, walking in just then. “Hi, Marge. Chief. Dolores.”

“Hi, Madam Mayor,” said Dolores, eyes gleaming. Now this was going to be good, that gleam seemed to say. This was stuff Shonda Rhimes couldn’t come up with if she tried.

“I want to see my husband and this man,” said Marge, pointing an imperious finger at her brother, “is telling me I can’t. Because he’s afraid of you!” she added, redirecting that same accusing finger at the Mayor.

“It’s fine, Alec,” said the Mayor. “Let her see her husband.”

“Madam Mayor?” asked Alec, surprised.

“I said let her through. I’m starting to think this whole case isn’t as open and shut as I first thought. Did you know that Jaqlyn was having an affair with Monica Chanting?”

“Um…” said Alec, who clearly didn’t.

“Or that Jaqlyn had huge gambling debts and practically had to flee loan shark enforcers in New Hampshire? Who may or may not have tracked him down here? And that Francine Jones had recently discovered his affair and wasn’t too happy about it?”

“See?” said Marge triumphantly. “You arrested my husband without a second thought, and now you’re going to have to let him go.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Marge,” said the Mayor. “The victim’s body was found in your husband’s car, and he was overheard directing verbal threats at the man. There’s dozens of witnesses, and the whole thing is on the internet for everyone to see. So…” She took off her glassesand carefully started polishing them with the hem of her blouse. “I think it’s best if we hand this over to the state police and let them figure it out.”

“The state police!” Alec cried. “But, Charlene!”

“He’s your brother-in-law, Alec!” said Charlene. “And the lead detective in the case is dating the man’s daughter. No, this case will be handled the way it should be handled. Which is by the book. I talked to the Assistant DA and he agrees this is all for the best. So you’re off the case, and so is Chase, and as soon as we can arrange transport, Tex Poole will be taken to a holding facility, awaiting arraignment.”

Marge, who’d hoped to find an ally in Charlene, saw the chances of a quick release of her husband suddenly being reduced to zero.

“You can’t do this,” she said. “You just told us there are other suspects.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want sentimentality or family bonds or whatever to mess up this investigation. Now do you want to see your husband or not?”

“Yes, I do,” said Marge, and followed the Mayor and Alec inside, leaving Dolores to pick up her phone so she could gleefully start WhatsApping the news all around town.

Who needed a newspaper when they had Dolores?

Once inside, Marge was admitted into a small room, and moments later her husband was led in. He was still dressed in the same outfit he’d worn at the garden party, though he already looked a little worse for wear. There were smudges on his best Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and the collar was upturned, touching his left ear. He looked dazed and confused, but when he caught sight of Marge, his expression changed into a happy smile.