Bad Business

34

I met Marlene Rowley for lunch at the new Legal Seafood in Cambridge. The weather was nice so we sat outside in Charles Square. I didn't know whether it meant that widowhood agreed with her or didn't agree with her, but Marlene had porked up a bit. Her face was puffy and her butt was more robust. When we were seated she had a glass of white wine. I ordered iced tea.

"Don't you drink?" Marlene said.

"I try not to at lunch. Makes me sleepy."

"Isn't that interesting," Marlene said. "It has no effect on me, you know."

She was talking to me but her eyes were ranging Charles Square. The waiter brought our drinks and took our order.

"You were taking a seminar with Darrin O'Mara," I said.

"Who told you that?" she said.

She took a large snort of white wine.

"Darrin."

"My God," she said. "That's a violation of confidentiality."

"That's what it sounds like to me," I said.

"That bastard," she said.

"So tell me a little about that," I said.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I don't need you prying into my sex life."

"You don't?"

"Oh don't be so smart."

"I'm trying," I said. "But I'm not succeeding. What were the seminars like?"

"Could you order me another glass of wine?" Marlene said.

"Sure," I said.

When that was accomplished I said, "What were the seminars like?"

Marlene drank from her second glass.

"They were emancipating," she said. "When I entered the program I was in thrall to sexual convention."

"Yikes," I said.

"Do you know what thrall means?"

"I do," I said.

"What?" she said.

"Captive," I said.

"Well, you are smart," she said.

"I am. But not because I know what thrall means. Tell me about escaping the bondage of sexual convention."

"That's one of the first things we learned," Marlene said. "Darrin explained that people would be uncomfortable with sexual freedom, and would denigrate it."

"Disparage," I said.

"What?"

"Denigrate means disparage."

She frowned.

"Yes," she said.

Several waiters arrived at our table with lunch.

"So what did you do to escape?" when they left.

"Darrin taught us to experience our sexuality as fully as we could."

"Not a bad thing," I said. "Did he offer specifics?"

"Specifics?"

"How were you to accomplish the experiential thing?" I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you, ah, spouse swap? Meet people at mixers? Hang outside of South Station and yell, `Hey, sailor'?"

"Don't be offensive," she said.

"Sometimes it gets away from me," I said.

"Well, I am not going to sit here and talk about my most intimate experiences with you, if that's what you think."

"Isn't modesty just another snare of conventional sex attitudes?"

Marlene showed no interest in her crab salad. She snagged a busboy on his way by.

"Could I have some more wine?" she said.

"I send your waiter right over," the bus boy said.

"Why are you asking me all this?" Marlene said.

While she waited for the waiter, she tipped her glass up to drain the remaining droplets. I had a spoonful of my chowder.

"I'm detecting," I said when I'd swallowed the chowder. "Did O'Mara do anything but urge you to be free?"

"I am paying you to find out who murdered my husband," she said.

The waiter brought Marlene a glass of wine.

"You should probably bring me another glass, when you get the chance," she said to the waiter.

"Certainly, ma'am," the waiter said. He glanced at me.

"More iced tea, sir?"

I shook my head. Marlene guzzled some wine. I had some chowder.

"Did O'Mara do anything to help free you of your Victorian hangups?" I said.

Marlene was looking around the courtyard. There might be someone important.

"What we learn in the seminar experience, and what we say and do there, belongs to us, and to no one else."

"Not even me?" I said.

She giggled and raised her wineglass toward me. "Especially not you," she said.

The waiter arrived with the backup glass and she finished off the one she was drinking so he could take it with him.

"Did you and Trent meet Bernie and Ellen at the seminar?" I said.

"Of course not. Bernie and Trent worked together at-" She tried to say Kinergy, but got the G transposed and it came out "Kingery."

She didn't seem to notice. I asked her some more things. She drank some more wine. I finished my chowder. She didn't touch her crab salad. I drank the rest of my iced tea. She had some more wine. I continued to learn nothing about Darrin O'Mara. I considered Spenser Crimestopper, Rule 2: If after repeated efforts you don't succeed, quit. I paid the check. As I was paying it, Marlene stood suddenly.

"I have to wee-wee," she said.

"Thanks for sharing," I said.

She turned from the table, and staggered and fell backward and sat hard on the brick patio with her legs splayed out in front of her. I got to her just ahead of a woman at the next table. "Are you all right?" the woman said.

"Shertainly," Marlene said.

I got my hands under her armpits and hoisted her up. "Shleepy," she said.

"She needs the ladies' room," I said to the woman at the next table. "I'll get her there. Can you go in with her?"

"Of course," the woman said. I wanted to kiss her.

"But if she falls again," the woman said, "I don't think I can pick her up."

"I'll wait outside," I said. "If you need me, just sort of clear the way, and I'll come in and get her."

The woman from the next table smiled. She was a strong-looking woman with a large chest and black hair salted with gray.

"Okay," she said.

I steered Marlene toward the ladies' room, and waited outside. After a longer time than I would have thought, they came out.

"I wee-wee-d," Marlene said.

"Swell," I said.