orley Munson was surprised to see Constance Freeman standing in the (open) entryway of his office. He had looked up from a call with one of his clients and noticed her there, staring over at him with a look of anger, bewilderment and desire. Morley Munson made a lengthy excuse and hung up the phone, trying to force a smile onto his lips. He got up and motioned for Constance Freeman to enter the room (and close the door behind her).
Morley Munson secretly hated the fact that Constance Freeman had defied their pact
to have their meetings in private but he hadalso come to expect this kind of surprise from her. She didn’t wait for a kiss (or
a hug) but immediately plunged toward
the subject of her visit: her husband was missing. She had tried to phone Morley Munson the previous night to warn him that her husband had grown increasingly suspicious of her behavior and she had found him digging through her purse.
He had uncovered several nude sketches that she had made of herself (and of Morley Munson) and he had left the house in a weeping, howling hurry.
Morley Munson calmed Constance Freeman down with a glass of wine and the cold fact that her husband had indeed arrived to confront him at his house but that they had discussed the situation (like men) and, after several long hours, Constance Freeman’s husband had walked out into the night shaken but definitely still alive.
Morley Munson was not sure that this lie was the best choice to make but under the circumstances he decided that the fewer people who knew about this latest murder, the better. For now, it was important that Constance Freeman cried real tears when she informed the (local) police about her (missing) husband.
Illustration Rosanna Webster