D.C. Dead

by Stuart Woods

“Of all the people we’ve talked to,” Dino said, starting the car, “did any one of them say a single word to indicate that Brix had the slightest interest in fucking anything but every female who got in his way?”

  “Now that you mention it, no. Are we going back to the Hay-Adams?” Stone asked as they drove out the White House gate.

  “That’s where my stuff is,” Dino said. “The stuff I’ve got to pack before I can go home.”

  “You’re giving up?”

  “Give me one really good reason to continue, and I’ll stay.”

  Stone was quiet.

  “Well?”

  “We know the March Hare exists.”

  “We know that Charlotte Kirby told us the March Hare exists,” Dino said. “That’s it.”

  “You think she was lying?”

  “Everything we know about her so far indicates to me that she was crazy enough to make it up.”

  Stone shrugged. “Certainly her behavior was, to say the least, eccentric.”

  “Eccentric? That’s all you got?” Dino asked. “The woman was a self-operating nymphomaniac. She was a thick slice of fruitcake, chock-full o’ nuts.”

  “All right,” Stone said, “I’ll give you all of that. But if you’re right, here’s my theory.”

  “I gotta hear this,” Dino said.

  “Charlotte killed Brix’s wife, and she was the woman the maid heard with Brix in the Lincoln Bedroom. She killed Milly Hart and Muffy Brandon, too.”

  “And herself,” Dino said. “Don’t forget herself.”

  “Her motive was jealousy of Brix, and she took herself out of the picture just as he did, and for the same reasons.”

  Dino turned into the portico of the Hay-Adams. “I like

  it,” he said, switching off the engine. “Now, let’s go upstairs and write a report that says just that, then get the hell out of town before somebody else gets offed, making fools of us both.”

  “Done,” Stone replied.

  As they walked through the door, the phone was ringing. Stone got it. “Hello?”

  “It’s Holly. Dinner with the Lees in the family quarters at eight. Shelley Bach and I are commanded, too.”

  “What do they want?”

  You know what they want, and you’d better have it ready.“

  “See you there,” Stone said. He hung up and turned to Dino. “We’re dining with the Lees. Let’s get that report together.”

  44

  STONE AND DINO MET HOLLY AND SHELLEY AT WHITE HOUSE reception, and they rode up in the elevator together, all of them quiet.

  Will and Kate Lee were sitting in the family quarters’ living room when the Secret Service agent ushered the group in. Hands were shaken, drinks were ordered from the butler.

  The president spoke first: “From what I hear, you fellows are about done with your work.”

  “We are, Mr. President,” Stone replied. He handed the president a brown hotel envelope. “Here’s our report,” he said.

  The president dropped the envelope on the coffee table before him and took a sip of his drink. “I’d rather hear it from you.”

  Stone looked at Dino. “Go,” Dino said.

  “Mr. President, Mrs. Lee,” Stone said. “We have been unable to prove conclusively, with the available evidence, who is responsible for all that has occurred. All we can offer you is an opinion that is supported by what we have learned, and it would never stand up in a court of law.”

  The president took another sip of his drink. “Kate and I are prepared to accept your conclusions and get on with our work and our lives. Let’s have it.”

  “We believe that the key to what has happened is Brixton Kendrick’s former secretary, Charlotte Kirby,” Stone said. “We believe that she killed Emily Kendrick with an edging stone from the White House garden. She and Mr. Kendrick had been having an affair for some time, and her motive was jealousy. After that, the available evidence supports suicide by Mr. Kendrick.”

  “Charlotte Kirby!” Lee said, half to himself. “I hardly knew her, but she seemed such a mild person.”

  “She was anything but, Mr. President, from her own testimony, which we’ve outlined in our report.”

  “And the other women?”

  “All killed by Charlotte Kirby,” Stone said, “who then took her own life.”

  Kate Lee spoke up. “So there’s no one left to prosecute or blame?”

  “That’s correct,” Stone said. “We believe Ms. Kirby was more than a little mad, and as you will see in our report, she was probably made that way by Brixton Kendrick.”

  “I just have one question, Stone,” the president said. “If I had not initiated your investigation, would Milly Hart and Muffy Brandon still be alive?”

  “There’s no way we can know that, Mr. President,” Stone replied. “It’s very possible that Charlotte Kirby would have gone on her killing spree even if we hadn’t turned up. You are in no way to blame for her actions. That’s in our report, too.”

  “Perhaps I’ll feel better about this after I’ve had time to digest it,” Lee said.

  The butler came into the room. “Mr. President, Mrs. Lee, dinner is served.”

  They went into the dining room and Kate Lee directed them to their seats. Her husband tasted the wine, and dinner began.

  “Stone,” Kate Lee said, “I suppose you and Dino will be returning to New York soon.”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Stone said.

  “I expect you’ll be glad to get home,” the president said.

  “I’ll tell you truthfully, Mr. President, the practice of law has never looked more attractive than it does now.”

  “As does New York City police work,” Dino added, “as opposed to the D.C. brand.”

  “I can understand that,” Lee said.

  “Our visit here has been an education,” Stone said.

  “Kate and I are grateful that you took the time to come down ho come dere. We thought your investigation would ease our minds, but I’m afraid it’s just given us more to grieve over.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Mr. President.”

  “Don’t be. We’ve learned to take things as they come. One of the first things that struck me after I took office was how little I could affect what happens. Presidential power is often an illusion. Kate, on the other hand, sees the effect of her work more immediately than I do. She runs an operation—it succeeds or fails. In order to get that kind of closure, I have to veto a bill.”

  The sound of a ringing telephone came from the living room.

  “I don’t like it when that phone rings in the evenings,” Lee said. “It’s never good news.”

  The butler came into the dining room. “Assistant Director Bach,” he said, “your office is calling. They say it’s urgent.”

  Shelley rose. “Excuse me, Mr. President, Mrs. Lee,” she said, then left the room.

  “Stone,” the president said, “what is your work in New York like these days?”

  “Well, my two largest clients for a while were Strategic Services, the security company, and my wife’s affairs.”

  “We were very sorry to hear of her death,” the president said.

  “Thank you, sir. I also spend a good deal of time supervising the legal work for an insurance group, Steele, that came to us recently.”

  “I understand you get called upon by Lance Cabot from time to time,” Kate said.

  “I’m afraid so,” Stone said wryly. “Sometimes I’m sorry I signed that contract with your agency.”

  Kate laughed. “I suppose you’ve learned that our work isn’t great fun.”

  “Perhaps not,” Stone said, “but it’s always interesting.”

  “Dino,” the president said, “what keeps you occupied these days?”

  “Well, Mr. President, even though New York City crime is down in almost every area, we still have enough murders, rapes, and robberies to keep my detectives in the Nineteenth Precinct busy.”

  Shelley Bach returned to the dining room. “Mr.
President, Mrs. Lee,” she said, “I’ve just had word that Fair Sutherlin has been murdered.”

  There was a loud clink as the president dropped his fork onto his plate. “Where? How?” he asked.

  “She was bludgeoned to death in her apartment, apparently late this afternoon,” Shelley replied. “Her body was discovere

  d by her building superintendent less than half an hour ago, and, knowing that she was a federal employee, he called the FBI. My people are on their way to the scene, and, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go over there now.”

  “Of course,” the president said. He and his wife stood and shook her hand. “Stone, Dino? I expect you’ll want to go there, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” Stone said, standing. He and Dino said their good-byes.

  “Holly,” Kate Lee said, “you’d better go, too. I want a full report as soon as possible.”

  The four left the quarters and got into the elevator.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to pin this one on Charlotte Kirby,” Stonirby,”e said as they rode down.

  45

  THEY ARRIVED AT FAIR SUTHERLIN’S APARTMENT BUILDING and took the elevator upstairs. The door to her apartment stood open, and men in suits were inside.

  “Wait here a moment,” Shelley said. She took latex gloves, a hairnet, and booties from her handbag and donned them, then disappeared inside. A moment later, an agent appeared and issued the same equipment to Stone, Dino, and Holly.

  “Careful, aren’t they?” Dino said. “Most cops would just blunder into the place.”

  Fair Sutherlin’s body lay under a sheet in the living room.

  Shelley called a man over. “This is Special Agent Dave King,” she said, “the supervisor on this investigation.”

  “I thought that was you,” Holly said.

  Shelley shook her head. “Dave and his people are homicide specialists. I’m just a bureaucrat, as far as they’re concerned.”

  “That’s not true,” Dave King said to them. “Assistant Director Bach always sees something we don’t. We’re happy to have her at a scene.”

  Shelley made a motion with her hand, and Dave King stooped and pulled back the bloodstained sheet. Fair’s face bore an expression of surprise. The eyes were open, the right side of her head was crushed, and her hair was matted with blood.

  Stone turned away, feeling horribly sad.

  “Maybe this homicide isn’t connected to the others,” Holly said.

  “That’s nice of you, Holly,” Stone replied, “but it’s clear that Dino and I backed away from this too soon.”

  “Thanks, Holly,” Dino said, “but Stone’s right.”

  Shelley spoke up. “If this is connected, and I’m inclined to think it is, then Fair must have been having an affair with Brix Kendrick, too. All the other victims were.”

  “We never turned up any evidence to connect her to Brix,” Stone said.

  “Just one more thing we missed,” Dino added.

  Dave King brought over a large clear plastic bag containing what appeared to be a marble statuette, covered with blood. “The murder weapon,” he said.

  “That’s a weapon of opportunity,” Dino said. “Indicates her murderer didn’t necessarily come here to kill her. Indicates anger, too. But it wasn’t a burglary gone wrong. I’ll bet nothing’s missing.”

  Fair’s large handbag, tagged, sat on the floor near her body.

  “Anything missing from that?” he asked Dave King. “Money? Credit cards?”

  “The bag seems to be intact,” King replied.

  “May we look in the bedroom?” Stone asked.

  “Sure, just don’t move anything.”

  Stone walked into the bedroom and looked around. It seemed the same as it had been on his earlier visit. Her tube of Pagan Spring lipstick was still on the dresser. So much for clues, he thought.

  Dino walked to the dressing table and raised the lid on a jewelry box. “Some nice pearls,” he said, “and a few rings and bracelets.”

  “You’re right,” Stone said, “it wasn’t a burglary.”

  There was a scream from the other room, and they both ran back there. The young woman who had shown them into Fair Sutherlin’s office earlier stood in the doorway, being consoled by Shelley Bach, who finally got her quieted down.

  “Who are you?” Shelley asked.

  “My name is Rose Marie Dyvig,” she said, and spelled the last name, as if she were accustomed to doing so. “I’m Ms. Sutherlin’s secretary. One of them.”

  “Dino and I can confirm that,” Stone said.

  “I came to check on her,” the young woman said. “She got a call on her cell phone late this afternoon and left the White House, saying she’d be back in an hour. I waited for her, because I had some papers to deliver that needed her signature. Finally, I called her a couple of times, and when I didn’t get a reply and when she didn’t come back, I came over here.”

  Shelley sat her down and turned to Dave King. “Did you find her cell phone?” she asked.

  “No, there wasn’t one anywhere in the room—not in her handbag, either.”

  “The murderer took it,” Dino said, “so we couldn’t check it to see who called her this afternoon.”

  “That was very thorough,” Stone said. “I wonder what else she took.”

  “Why do you think it was a woman?” Holly asked.

  “It’s the March Hare,” Stone replied.

  “Who else?” Dino asked.

  “I don’t think there’s anything more we can do here,” Shelley said. “Let’s get out and let my people do their work.”

  Shelley walked Rose Marie Dyvig to her car, parked at the curb, then Stone and Dino went to the Agency SUV that they had been loaned, and Shelley and Holly to their respective cars.

  “You ladies may as well join us for dinner at the Hay-Adams,” Stone called out. They both nodded and got into their cars.

  “Have you told the hotel we’re checking out tomorrow?” Dino asked.

  “No.”

  “Just as well. Looks like we’re not going anywhere.”

  ROOM SERVICE DID ITS usual fine work, and they dined without much chat. After dinner, the two couples adjourned to the bedrooms and closed the doors.

  STONE AND HOLLY LAY naked in bed, holding hands, but they had not otherwise touched each other.

  “You seemed familiar with Fair Sutherlin’s apartment,” she said. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Yes,” Stone said. “Once. Dino and I went to a dinner party there, too.”

  “Don’t get the idea that I mind,” Holly said.

  “Thanks for not minding.”

  “We don’t have that kind of relationship,” Holly said. “What was your impression of her?”

  “I liked her. I admired the way she did her work.”

  “Do you think she had an affair with Brix Kendrick?”

  “On no evidence but evidencethe manner of her death, yes.”

  “I wish I had met the guy,” Holly said. “I’d like to see what sort of man could string together that many affairs and get away with it in a town where everybody talks about everybody.”

  “You could argue that he didn’t get away with it,” Stone said. “He’s dead, after all.”

  “Do you think the March Hare killed Charlotte Kirby?”

  “We never saw a gun, did we? I certainly want to see the police report. Can you get it for me?”

  “Better if Shelley does that,” Holly said. “She has an official reason to ask for it, and I don’t.”

  Stone chuckled. “That doesn’t seem to stop you from getting what you want from the cops.”

  “Better not to ask too often,” Holly said. She raised herself onto one elbow. “Stone, do you have any idea, any thoughts at all, about who the March Hare is?”

  “No,” Stone said. “Not an idea, not a thought.”

  “That’s depressing.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  46

  STONE AND HOLLY EME
RGED FROM THE BEDROOM TO FIND Dino breakfasting alone. “Shelley had an early meeting,” he said. “Your breakfast is on the sideboard.”

  Stone and Holly helped themselves from the hot dishes and sat down. “I wanted to ask her to get us the police report on Charlotte Kirby’s murder,” Stone said.

  “I already thought of that. She’ll fax it over to us.”

  “Good man,” Holly said, looking at him funny. “You seem depressed, Dino. Not your usual cheerful self.”

  “Dino, cheerful?” Stone said, laughing.

  “I thought we were out of here this morning,” Dino said. “We’re not.”

  “That is depressing, isn’t it?” said Stone.

  “I don’t mind having you two around,” Holly said. “You put a little fun into my humdrum life.”

  “Humdrum my ass,” Dino snorted. “The stuff you get into at the Agency, you’re probably having too much fun!”

  “I wish we had some sort of lead—anything,” Stone said. “I don’t know what to do next.”

  “How about Fair Sutherlin’s cell phone?” Dino suggested. “It’s disappeared, and the murderer must have taken it.”

  Holly spoke up. “The Agency has a program for cell phone searches,” she said. “Can I use your laptop, Stone?”

  “Sure, it’s on the desk.”

  Holly sat down at the computer and began typing. “I’m logging on to the Agency mainframe,” she said, “then I can access the program.” She stopped. “There. What’s her number?”

  Stone got his iPhone, looked up the number, and read it out.

  Holly typed in the number, then waited, looking at the computer screen. “It’s searching.”

  “You could use that program at the NYPD, Dino,” Stone said.

  “We’ve had it for years, or something like it. Comes in useful now and then.”

  Holly checked the screen again. “Nothing.”

  “Maybe it’s been removed from D.C.,” Stone suggested.

  “No, this would find it anywhere in the world, unless it’s been smashed, the SIM card removed, or it’s where there’s no cell reception, like in a bomb shelter.”