Rusty Ringle stepped into the darkened tap room of Harry's Bar & Grill. It was a cop bar just off Congress Street in Atlanta.

Several of his fellow investigators greeted him as he entered the room.

"Look what the cat dragged in"

"We are blessed by royalty."

And - "Grab a chair and join us."

Rusty hooked a chair from a nearby table and slid in next to a homicide detective.

One of the other cops filled a glass from a pitcher of beer and handed it to him. Rusty took a long draught and wiped his lips before he said, "Thanks, I needed that."

Rusty and his partner, Johnny Earthquake, had been cops in Atlanta before opening their own detective agency in Savannah, Georgia. He knew some of the men at the table and introduced himself to the rest.

"Found any lost dogs lately?" one guy asked. They all laughed. Savannah, in the fifties, was not known as a hotbed of crime.

"Well, I'm in town to give a deposition in the Windsor case and Johnnie's just wrapping up a murder case. That's why he didn't come." Rusty enjoyed the looks on their faces. "We call it the case of the Black Widow."

At the clamor for more, Rusty drained his glass and told them they were going to need more beer.

Suitably replenished, he looked around the table. "It started with a phone call..."

~

Johnny's testimony at the inquest:

We got a call from William Throckmorton the Third. His daddy, Throckmorton #2, has just died and left everything to his second wife, Melinda. 

The Third, and his siblings, got nothing. He wanted us to dig up some dirt on the widow that would invalidate the will.

The coroner called his death a heart attack and didn't even do a postmortem but it looked a little fishy to me. Rusty and I did some digging.

Then I went to see the widow.

I told her I was sorry for her loss.

"How can I help you, detective?"

"I have just a few questions," I say. "About a month before he died, your husband announced that he was going to leave half of his fortune to charity. But I spoke with his lawyer and he didn't show up for their appointment."

"That's right. He was feeling poorly, so he rescheduled. How is that possibly of interest to you?"

"It goes to motive," I tell her.

"I think you had better leave."

"Can you tell me about your bank accounts in Kansas City and San Diego?"

"I... Would you like some tea? We'll have a cup and I will explain."

She brought out a pot and two cups. Poured it right in front of me. I was supposed to think it would be safe to drink it. I asked for milk. When she came back with a creamer, I already had my cup in my hand. She sat down across from me.

"Now, what was your question?" She smiled at me.

I drank some tea and her eyes confirmed my instinct. "Why kill him?" I asked.

"He was a dead man as soon as he proposed to me. It was just a matter of timing. Then the damn fool started giving away my money."

She watched me expectantly for a few minutes and then sighed. There was resignation and something else rolled into that sigh.

I nodded at the cup of tea in front of her. "What will they find when they analyze that?" I asked.

"She looked at me, then down at her cup. Leaning forward she picked it up. Her hand trembled slightly. She drank some tea and said, "I have no idea what you are talking about."  

She was dead before the paramedics got there.