“He went grocery shopping. Why? Should he be here?”
“Oh no. I was just curious.” It was better that the man wasn’t there. They might get different answers from Wilhelmina without Rafferty hanging on her every word. When they were all seated, Kit drew a breath. “We’ve learned new information about Mr.Munro.”
Wilhelmina’s brows lifted. “What did he do?”
At least the woman wouldn’t be surprised that Munro had lied. “He wasn’t born Brooks Munro,” Connor began. “He was originally Monroe Brookman and he’s served time in prison.”
Wilhelmina’s body stilled. “For what?”
“Mostly white-collar crime,” Connor said. “He…well, he had a partner.”
“Veronica Fitzgerald,” Wilhelmina said flatly. “Those twowere thick as thieves.” Her laugh was hollow. “I guess it’s because they were thieves.”
“Among other things,” Connor said. “They were also married.”
Wilhelmina’s eyes widened. “They werewhat?”
“Married,” Kit said. “They married thirty-three years ago. They still are married.”
Wilhelmina paled. “He…” She cleared her throat. “He’s a bigamist?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kit said. “We’re sorry to have to tell you this.”
Wilhelmina looked down, her hair falling forward to cover her face. Her shoulders began to shake and Kit wondered if they should have waited for Rafferty. Then Wilhelmina made a gasping sound and raised her head, and Kit realized that the woman hadn’t been crying, after all.
She was laughing. “Oh my God. You’re kidding me. Please say you’re not kidding me.”
“We’re not,” Kit said warily. “We thought you’d be upset.”
“Oh, I am,” Wilhelmina said, wiping her eyes. “I’m furious.” Her laughter abruptly halted. “It’s just that Raffie will feel so vindicated. He never liked Brooks. I knew something was going on between Brooks and Veronica, but I didn’t think they weremarried. And for how long?”
“Thirty-three years,” Connor said, watching Wilhelmina like one might a cornered wildcat.
“Wow.” She sat back and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she still held. “So what about the house? The one that I bought for him?”
Kit fought not to wince. “I’m not certain. Veronica might inherit, given she’s his legal wife.”
Wilhelmina’s lovely features morphed into a scowl. “Over my dead body.”
Kit winced again but said nothing because Wilhelmina had lurched to her feet and was pacing the room.
“That sonofabitch,” Wilhelmina muttered. “That selfish, criminal sonofabitch.”
That about summed up Brooks Munro, Kit thought. “It’s best if you contact your attorney, ma’am. I’m sure they can unravel any financial complications Munro’s deceit has caused you.”
Wilhelmina hadn’t stopped pacing. “Oh, I will. That sonofabitch.”
“What are your plans?” Connor asked. “Will you be returning to Boston?”
“Yes.” Wilhelmina stopped pacing to face them. “But not until this case is closed. I want to know who to thank for killing that no-good thief. Not only did he take my money—a lot of money—but he took five years of my life. I thought our marriage was legal. I dreaded divorcing him, but Veronica saved me from that anyway. Do I have to bury him?”
“No, ma’am,” Kit said. “That’s Veronica’s responsibility.”
“Well, at least there’s that,” she muttered.
Connor had relaxed, the difficult news now out of the way. “We were also wondering if you knew how Mr.Munro paid his employees.”
“Cash. He paid all the household bills with cash or money orders. He wanted to minimize any financial transactions. He said it was so that no one could report to his constituents how much money we spent. How well we lived. It could make him look inaccessible to his public.” She winced. “Plus, I don’t think the housekeeper was documented, so he definitely paid her with cash. I stayed out of all those dealings. But there’s a safe in his office, on the shelf behind his desk. I don’t know the combination, but I assume you can blow it open or whatever. Is there anything else?”