"Mel," Jane said, "you're going to have to wait for the DNA results anyway to be sure. Then contact them and sort of feel your way through the conversation. They deserve to know the truth, but may not want to. Let them ask what they want to know."
On the way home, Shelley said, "I'm wondering about something I think is too bizarre to even mention to anyone but you."
"I love your most bizarre ideas. Shoot."
"Okay. Since John Bunting got the forged prescription from his old druggist friend, what else might he have gotten under the table years ago?"
Jane thought for a moment. "Something to create a miscarriage? Or even three of them? Jeepers, Shelley. My grandmother told me there used to be a woman in town who grew rue plants to give girls who were 'in trouble' to get rid of unwanted pregnancies. She said that some part of the plant, crushed up, could do that."
"Which part?"
"I don't know. She didn't go that far. Maybe the flowers, or the leaves or the roots. Or it could just be an old wives' tale."
Shelley actually slowed down the minivan and pulled into a parking lot and came to a full stop. "Should we tell Ms. Bunting this?"
"No. She's as smart as we are. And if the miscarriages happened when they were in or near Chicago, instead of Europe, when she did carry to full term, she's capable of figuring this out herself. Especially since she knows what her husband and his druggist friend did recently. She knows how to use the Internet; she could figure this out. In fact, I was looking up herbs once, and think I ran across a warning about rue regarding the various dangers of it. Something about mucous membranes."
"I can't believe we're sitting here in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart talking about mucous membranes," Shelley said with a shudder. "So we won't mention this to her. Unless she wavers about the divorce.""Shelley, she's never going to waver on that."
They attended the play one last time on Monday. With the changed ending and with Bill Denk doing a magnificent job of playing the role John Bunting had previously held, it had turned into a better play.
Ms. Bunting was just as good, if not better than she had been in the first performance. They went backstage to visit with her and compliment her performance, which again had been greeted with a standing ovation.
"You did good!" Jane said, giving Ms. Bunting a hug. "Would you like to go out to a late supper with us?"
"I'd love it. I'll even pay for both of you. I'm so pleased with the lawyer you recommended. The papers were delivered to the jail the same day. Give me ten minutes to get out of this dress and makeup. I'll meet you in the lobby."
After they'd ordered their drinks and meal at the restaurant they'd taken her to before, Shelley said, "I hope this isn't tactless, but are you going to the needlepoint class tomorrow morning? We can pick you up if you like."
"Of course I'm going. That's sweet of you to ask." Ms. Bunting was cheerful. "I should have divorced him decades ago. I feel so darned independent knowing my life is now entirely in my own hands. I can take any role I want to. I can needlepoint. I can spend time with my grandchil‑
dren whenever I like. And the first thing I'm doing is selling our house in Connecticut and purchasing one here. The second thing is getting a better laptop and a fast line. In fact, I was online and looking up things on the Internet yesterday about miscarriages since I learned about John and that horrible druggist friend of his, and you wouldn't believe what I learned. There's this common herb called rue…"
Epilogue
Gloria Bunting sold her house in Connecticut and purchased a three-bedroom condo in Chicago that had views of Lake Michigan from the living room, her bedroom, and the largest guest room.
As soon as the news of John Bunting's incarceration for murder hit the newspapers and magazines, Ms. Bunting's agent was inundated with queries. Within a year, she'd been a guest star in two highly popular television shows and had three scripts she was considering for Broadway productions. She later learned from several good sources that her ex-husband had been telling everyone in the theater or film business that she wouldn't take any role unless there was a good role for him.
John Bunting was found guilty of murder and received a twenty-year sentence. But even though he was no longer allowed to drink alcohol, he died of liver disease six months after he entered prison.
The pharmacist who'd forged the prescription for the drugs John Bunting used to disable Denny before killing him went to jail for a year for forgery and accessory to murder. When he was released, his family put him in a nursing home.
The Roths, without wasting money to hire an attorney, filed several lawsuits against the Chicago Police Department, Detective Mel Van-Dyne, and the college that sponsored the play. All were thrown out of court.
Professor Imry didn't get funding for his next script, so he went to a small college in New Jersey and spent his free time reading Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Raymond Chandler, and John Dickson Carr. He produced two plays and then was sued for plagiarism. He gave up teaching and writing and educated himself about gardening. He set up an "exotic and unusual" vegetable stall next to a mall in Kansas City and is happy making a modest living.
Bill Denk, who played the butler in Imry's play, and then John Bunting's role, was seen in the production by an important local agent who provided actors for commercials. Since Bill, who was actually young, could play almost any age, he made a good living plugging denture paste, Viagra, and newly opened condominiums. He's now moved up to national advertising for hardware chains, resort chains, and luxury cruises.
Sven Turner has recovered slowly but completely. He's gone back to working for the college as a janitor and gambling on the weekends. So far, the IRS hasn't taken any notice of him.
Hilda Turner created a trust with her share of their wealth to fund medical research for children with diabetes. She oversees the trust, which has gained plaudits in the medical field.