Part 33 (1/2)
”Is there some way you can give me a hint without breaking your word to your friend?”
”I'm not sure. Perhaps if I tell you a little about it without revealing the friend's ident.i.ty?”
”Sounds good to me.”
”Marc says that he's worried that the police might have more on Arrington than he knows about.”
”I've been worried about that, too.”
”Well, you're both right to be worried.”
Stone sucked in a breath. ”Can you tell me any more?”
”I'm sorry,” she said. ”I don't think I can.” She sipped her brandy. ”It's just that there may very well have been a witness to what happened that night.”
”You mean the Mexican gardener?”
”No, someone else. That's all I can say.”
”Have you told Marc about this?”
”No, he'd just browbeat it out of me, and I'd feel terrible. I don't think you would try to do that.”
Funny, Stone thought, he had been thinking about doing just that. ”Well,” Stone said, ”if you can ever see your way clear to tell me more, I'd like to hear it.”
”I think that's unlikely,” she replied.
Stone looked at his watch. ”I'd better go; it's getting late.”
She walked him to the door, and he gave her a peck on the cheek. ”Thanks for dinner,” he said, ”and for the good company. I needed it.”
”I'm sorry I can't be of more help,” she said.
”You've at least confirmed our suspicions,” Stone said, ”and that's a help.” He waved and started toward his car. She waited until he had backed out of the drive before closing the door.
The street was dark, and there were a few cars parked along the curb. As Stone put the car into gear and drove away, he noticed headlights appear in his rearview mirror. Funny, he thought, he hadn't seen a car coming when he'd backed out. He watched the lights in the mirror until he reached Sunset, then lost them in the traffic.
Forty-one.
STONE WAS WAKENED BY THE SOUND OF SOMEONE entering the bungalow. Since Betty was now in Hawaii, he wasn't expecting anybody, so he got into a robe and padded into the front room in his bare feet.
A young woman was seated at Betty's desk; she looked up, startled. ”Oh,” she said. ”I didn't know you were here.”
”I'm here,” Stone said. ”But why are you?”
”I'm Louise Bremen, from the secretarial pool; Betty wanted a temp while she's on vacation.”
”Oh, of course; I'd forgotten. I'm Stone Barrington.” He walked over and shook her hand.
”Anything special you want done?” she asked.
”Just sort the Calder mail and separate the bills. Betty uses a computer program to pay them.”
”Quicken? I know that.”
”Good; you can write the checks, and I'll sign them. I'm a signatory on the Calder accounts.”
”Sure; can I make you some coffee?”
”I'll do it, as soon as I've had a shower,” Stone said. He went back to his bedroom, showered, shaved, and returned to the kitchenette. He was having breakfast when the phone rang, and Louise called out, ”Marc Blumberg for you.”
Stone picked up the phone. ”Marc?”
”Yes, I . . .”
”I'm glad you called. I had dinner with Vanessa last night, and she pretty much confirmed our suspicion that the police have something on Arrington they haven't disclosed. Seems there was another witness to what happened when Vance was shot.”
”And who was that?”
”She wouldn't say; she said she had been told in confidence.”
”And why didn't she tell me me that? She certainly had plenty of opportunity.” that? She certainly had plenty of opportunity.”
”She said she was afraid you'd browbeat the name out of her. She seemed very serious about keeping the confidence. I think you ought to take her to lunch and press the point.”
There was a long silence on the other end.
”Marc?”
”You haven't been watching television this morning, have you?”
”No; I guess I slept a little late. I'm having breakfast now.”
”Vanessa is dead.”
”What?”
”Her house burned to the ground last night. TV says the cops haven't ruled out arson.”
”But I was with her; we had dinner.”
”Must have been later than that. It's the husband. I know it is.”