The Christie Caper - Carolyn Hart [102]
“Perhaps we might focus on Margo,” Lady Gwendolyn remonstrated gently.
“So interesting sociologically …” With a cheerful smile, Laurel capitulated. “Ah yes. Margo was a serious student, not especially popular with other students, but respected President of her class all three years in high school. A scholarship to college. Unfortunately, she had to turn it down because of her father’s terminal illness and her mother’s inability to earn enough money to support the family. Margo started at the Masters Literary Agency as the receptionist, but her quick intelligence soon won Robert Masters’s attention, and he gave her the opportunity to read manuscripts. She excelled, not only having a good sense of what makes books work but an excellent instinct for books the market would reward. In 1974, Margo married an advertising executive, Larry Bynum. He was almost twenty years older than she. They had no children and divorced eight years later. At the office, Margo prospered until—”
Bledsoe’s attempt to torpedo Margo’s career was old news to Annie. Though Laurel had picked up a bit of additional information which was fascinating indeed.
Her face solemn, Laurel confided to the little group in the suite, “Another agent working there at the time remembers the incident well. She said, ‘Margo never forgets an ill turn. I saw her later that year—after she learned it was Bledsoe who had set her up and driven her from her job. Margo told me, “Someday, someway, Neil’s going to pay for this. You can count on it.” The way she said it—if I were Neil Bledsoe I wouldn’t walk down a dark alley if I thought Margo was anywhere around.’ One satisfied author describes her as his New York barracuda. ‘Margo never forgets a favor, always repays a slight.’ She is an accomplished runner, twice finishing the Boston Marathon in less than three hours.” Laurel closed the folder.
Max looked at their leader. “I believe I’m next. But, first, could I get everyone some coffee. More tea, Lady Gwendolyn?”
Dear Max. How had he sensed her desperate need for an infusion of caffeine? Annie immediately held up her empty cup. With her fresh cup of coffee and the paling of the sky beyond the balcony, she began to feel much more human.
“Victoria Shaw—” Max paused. “Honestly, I can’t believe this woman could ever hurt anyone.”
Lady Gwendolyn smiled at Max benignly. “Your gentlemanly response is certainly to your credit.”
Max’s ears turned pink. Annie: loved it.
“However,” Lady Gwendolyn continued, “we must remember that a genteel facade can mask murderous passion.” How could anyone who looked so much like a Dresden shepherdess speak so easily of passion and evil? But that was the fascination of Miss Marple, wasn’t it? A gentle nature so alive to the reality of evil.
Max avoided Annie’s glance and concentrated on his report. “Victoria Shaw was born in 1925 in Willow Spring, North Carolina. Her father, Edward Murray, was a Methodist minister. Her mother, Louise Winton, died when Victoria was four. Victoria was a sweet, good-natured child. She attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She met a young teaching assistant, Bryan Shaw, and they married upon her graduation. Bryan pursued an academic career, teaching English, emphasis upon nineteenth-century novelists. He taught at the University of the South, Southern Methodist University, and the University of Georgia. Upon his success as a mystery writer, he retired from teaching in 1974 and they settled in Willow Spring. They had three daughters, all of whom are now grown. Victoria always encouraged her husband in his writing, and she edited and typed his manuscripts. Bryan Shaw died of cancer in 1983. Since his death, she has dropped out of most of her activities. A neighbor: ‘Poor Victoria. She used to be so bubbly, so energetic. Before Bryan died. She’s