by Stuart Woods
“Apparently not.”
“You remember in the movie when somebody says to Jack Nicholson, ‘Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown’?”
“Yes.”
“Well: Stone, it’s Washington.”
“I learn a little more about it every day,” Stone said.
“Oh, by the way, don’t make any plans for lunch tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to be invited to have it with the president.”
“How do you know that?” Stone asked.
“Stone, it’s Washington.”
18
Stone and Dino were kept waiting at the White House for more than half an hour before being ushered into the Oval Office, where a waiter was setting up a table.
The president greeted them with handshakes, then they sat down. “You’re having lobster salad,” Will Lee said, “because I’ve heard you like it.”
“That’s entirely true,” Stone said, while Dino nodded.
“I’m having something unspeakable,” Lee said. “Kate has me on a diet. I mean, I exercise five days a week, I don’t know why I have to be skinny, too.”
“You look just fine to me, Mr. President,” Dino said.
“You know, I think so, too,” Lee said. “I’d order the lobster salad, but it would get back to Kate in a heartbeat.”
The waiter returned with a cart and served lobster salad to Stone and Dino, then put something before the president, who grimaced. “I’ve learned not to ask what it is,” he said.
“If it’s any consolation, Mr. President,” Stone said, “when we had lunch with Mrs. Lee, she had something fairly awful-looking.”
“That’s comforting,” Lee said wryly.
“But she made us eat it, too,” Dino said. “Or tried to. We had lunch at a diner later.”
The president laughed heartily. “Serves her right,” he said, “but don’t ever let her know. You’ll never hear the end of it. Wine, anyone?”
“We wouldn’t dare,” Stone said.
“All right,” the president said, swallowing without chewing, “tell me what you’ve got.”
“Gossip,” Stone said.
“We have gossip?” Dino asked, looking confused.
“I’m sorry, Dino,” Stone said, “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. Mr. President, Holly Barker and I had dinner last night at Maison Blanche, and-”
“I heard she was wearing a smashing yellow dress,” Lee said.
Stone’s jaw dropped.
“It’s Washington,” the president said.
“Yes, sir,” Stone said. “Well, anyway, we were sitting at a banquette, and there was another one back-to-back with us, and we overheard a conversation between a couple that was an eye-opener.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Dino said.
“Dino, I said I was sorry. Anyway, Mr. President, the woman at the table said that Brixton Kendrick had had a number of affairs.”
“Brix?” Lee asked, looking astonished.
“Yes, sir.”
“So we’re reduced to restaurant gossip?” Dino asked.
“It’s the best lead we’ve had so far,” Stone said.
“What about the lipstick?” Lee asked.
“I’m afraid that’s gone nowhere, sir,” Stone replied. “But it was the rest of the conversation that was interesting.”
“I can’t wait,” Dino said.
Stone shot him a dirty look. “The woman said that a friend of hers had been having an affair with Kendrick, and that she was terrified that she would be questioned by us, and her husband would divorce her.”
“By you?” the president asked. “She knew about you?”
“Mr. President, it’s Washington.”
Lee nodded. “So she said she actually knew someone who was having an affair with Brix?”
Stone nodded. “I thought that gave the conversation more weight than mere gossip.”
“Who was this woman at the restaurant?” Lee asked.
Stone produced his notebook. “I got that from the maitre d’ before we left: the couple were Mr. and Mrs. Biddle Trask.”
“Biddle Trask? He’s the secretary of commerce. I appointed him.”
“I don’t know his wife’s name,” Stone said.
“Elizabeth-Betty. I think you’d better have a word with her, and you tell her I sent you-personally.”
“Yes, sir.”
“My secretary will give you her address.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The president looked thoughtful. “That puts a whole new complexion on this affair, doesn’t it?”
“Well, it’s something we didn’t know,” Stone said.
“Or just found out,” Dino said.
“I handled a few murder cases when I was a young lawyer,” Lee said. “Well, one murder case. Anyway, if this information is true, then it might make Brix’s suicide more understandable. He could have feared his past coming out.”
“I’m afraid this information, if it’s true, might go against your contention that Kendrick didn’t kill his wife,” Stone said.
The president nodded. “I must admit, it took the wind out of my sails. I hope I haven’t gotten you two down here for nothing.”
Stone didn’t know what to say to that.
“Well, since the word is out that you are in town, we’re going to have to be very careful here,” Lee said.
“We haven’t been paid anything,” Stone said, g,” Ssailawyer,and it’s not necessary that we are paid. I think it might be better if we can honestly say that we aren’t on the government payroll.”
The president sighed. “Dick Nixon would have had a pile of cash in somebody’s safe to handle a situation like this.”
“Mr. President, I think we would prefer not to be paid.”
“Then I will respect your wishes in that regard,” Lee said.
“There’s something else to consider here,” Stone said.
“What’s that?”
“So far, everyone we’ve interviewed has been a White House staffer,” Stone said. “But if we interview Elizabeth Trask, then we lend credence to her gossip.”
“I take your point, Stone,” Lee said, “but if you’ve interviewed anybody, then it’s out there. I don’t think talking to Betty will make things worse. Oh, you might tell her that I said to shut up or I’ll tell her husband she’s spreading this stuff.”
“Mr. President, it was her husband to whom she was telling it.”
“Oh, yes,” Lee said. “I forgot about that. Well, Biddle Trask is not the kind to spread gossip, though I’m sure he was very interested in hearing it.”
“Mr. President, as long as we’re talking about Brixton Kendrick’s sex life, was there anyone here in the White House that he seemed to have an unusual interest in? Any woman, I mean.”
“Well, Brix wasn’t gay,” Lee said, “I’d bet on that. Of course, I would have bet he never had an affair with anybody.”
“That’s what everyone we’ve talked to has told us,” Dino said.
“Brix ran the White House, in the nonpolitical sense,” the president said. “He would have had both reason and opportunity to talk to anyone on the premises, but I can’t think of anybody he seemed attracted to. Brix was a very charming guy, with both men and women.”
“I understand, Mr. President,” Stone said, putting down his fork and placing his napkin on the table. “I think it’s time to let you get back to running the country.”
They all stood and shook hands. Stone stopped at the president’s secretary’s desk and got the Trasks’ address, then he and Dino left.
Dino waited until they were in the car. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this conversation at the restaurant,” he said.
Stone sighed and fastened his seat belt. “It’s a Georgetown address,” he said.
19
The house was bigger than what Stone had come to expect in Georgetown. It was surrounded by lawn and gardens, and set back
from the street, with a circular driveway.
“Maybe we should have called first,” Dino said.
“I’d rather surprise her,” Stone replied.
Dino pulled into the driveway, and they got out of the SUV and rang the bell. A uniformed maid answered the door.
“May I help you?” she asked, regarding them as if they were Bible salesmen.
“Mr. Barrington and Lieutenant Bacchetti to see Mrs. Trask, at the request of the president of the United States. ” Sesmen.”
The woman blinked. “Please come in. I’ll see if Mrs. Trask is at home.” She showed them to chairs in a round foyer and disappeared through a door.
“At home?” Dino asked. “Doesn’t she know if her boss is at home?”
“‘At home’ means receiving visitors who don’t have an appointment.”
“Thank you for translating,” Dino replied. “I think I’m going to let you handle this one. She’s not used to people like me.”
“Cops?”
“Italians.”
The maid reappeared. “Mrs. Trask will see you. This way, please.” She led them into a large room full of chintz-covered furniture and Audubon prints of birds. A handsome woman in her fifties sat alone on a sofa, looking nervous.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Trask,” Stone said. “I am Stone Barrington, and this is Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti. The president asked us to visit with you.”
“Please sit down,” she replied, waving a hand vaguely.
Stone and Dino chose chairs.
“Mrs. Trask,” Stone said, “I know that you’ve heard of our presence in town and why we’re here.”
“How would you know that?” she asked.
“It’s Washington,” Stone said.
“Well, yes.”
“I’m aware of your conversation with your husband at Maison Blanche last evening.”
“Good God! Is the place bugged?”
“I was sitting at the banquette immediately behind yours, about two feet away.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“I was having dinner. It was impossible not to hear what you were saying.”
“A gentleman would not have heard it,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height.
“Be that as it may,” Stone said, “I am aware that a friend of yours was having an affair with Brixton Kendrick.” He took his notebook from an inside pocket and got out his pen. “The president would like you to give us her name and address.”
“Good God, you can’t go bursting into Muffy Brandon’s house and demanding to know about her secret life!”
Stone wrote down the name. “Mrs. Trask, we are not the SWAT team. We are investigating a murder and a suicide at the request of the president of the United States, and we will exercise the utmost discretion. What is Mrs. Brandon’s address?”
“How did you know her name?”
“You just told it to me,” Stone said, as patiently as he could.
“Oh, my God! You see what you’ve made me do?”
“Please, Mrs. Trask: Mrs. Brandon’s address.”
The woman sighed. “She lives two houses that way,” she said, pointing. “It’s the green house with the window boxes.”
“Thank you. Now, last evening you said that Mr. Kendrick had had numerous affairs. With whom?”
“Well, I don’t know if they were numerous,” she said. “I know of only one other.”
“And who would that be?” Stone asked, pen poised.
“I’ve heard that Milly Hart and Brix were surreptitiously seeing each other for a while. With a y,” she said helpfully. “In the afternoons.”
“And her address?”
“The next block,” she said, pointing again. “Second on the left, with a black door.”
“Any others at all?” Stone asked.
“Not that I am aware of,” she replied.
Stone stood. “Thank you for your assistance, Mrs. Trask. I’m sorry to have intruded on your afternoon.”
She shrugged. “Anything for the president,” she said.
The trask door closed behind them, and they got into the car.
“I know the way,” Dino said, starting the car.
They found a parking place on the street, and as they were about to get out of the car, Stone pointed at the house with the window boxes. A well-dressed man carrying a briefcase was closing the door behind him and walking down the front steps. “Well, at least we won’t have to deal with Mr. Brandon.”
“How do we know that’s Mr. Brandon?” Dino asked.
“You have a point.”
They waited until the putative Mr. Brandon had cleared the block, then they walked to the house and rang the bell. Almost immediately, it was opened by a woman in a Chanel suit.
“Mrs. Brandon?” Stone said. “I am-”
“I know who you are,” she said quickly. “Come inside before anyone sees you.” She closed the door behind her. “Betty Trask called just now. You narrowly missed my husband, thank God! Come in here.” She led the way to a cozy, paneled study, seated them, then closed the door. “Now,” she said, perching on a small chair, “what do you want?”
“I’m sure Mrs. Trask told you why we’re here,” Stone said.
“Well, of course she did,” Mrs. Brandon replied. “But what do you want from me? Brix Kendrick is dead and confessed in a letter, or so I read in the Post. A year has passed. Why are you dragging me into this?”
“Mrs. Brandon, you dragged yourself into this when you had an affair with Mr. Kendrick. We’re simply investigating the circumstances of his and his wife’s deaths, and we hope you can help us. This is not for publication.”
“Oh, all right, what do you want?”
“How long were you and Mr. Kendrick, ah, seeing each other?”
“About two and a half months,” she said.
“And where did you meet?”
“Here, in this house. Brix would leave the White House in the afternoons and come here for an hour or so. Do you want to know what we did?”
Stone ignored the question. “Do you know of anyone else Mr. Kendrick was seeing?”
“Milly Hart,” she said. “She was before me. He admitted that to me.”
“Were you jealous of Mrs. Hart?”
“Certainly not!” she said indignantly. “Why would I be jealous of that little tramp?”
“Are you aware that Milly Hart was having an affair with anyone besides Brixton Kendrick?”
She thought for a moment. “No,” she murmured, aware that she had just called herself a tramp.
“Mrs. Brandon, what were your movements on the day Mrs. Kendrick died?”
“Am I a suspect? Am I under arrest? I want an attorney.”
“Mrs. Brandon, you’ve been watching too much Law amp; Order. It’s a simple question: where were you that day?”
“All day?”
“That would be helpful.”
“I slept late, then I went to my monthly garden club luncheon.”
“How long were you there?”
“From noon until around three. I was giving a presentation. After that, I had tea at a friend’s house, and no, I will not tell you who that was, until we’re in a courtroom.”
“Did you see Mr. Kendrick at all that day?”
“No, I did not. The last time was the day before.”
“How would you describe his frame of mind?” Stone asked.
“Serene. Brix was always serene. That’s why I was surprised he killed himself.”
“Why do you think he killed himself?”
“I should think it was obvious. He killed his own wife, for God’s sake!”
“Did it surprise you when you heard of her death?”
“Of course it surprised me.”
“Did you think Mr. Kendrick was the sort of man who would kill his wife?”
“Certainly not! Not for a moment.”
“Did he ever say to you that he wanted out of his marriage?”
“No, never. He
and Mimi were devoted to each other. He just had a very powerful sex drive.”
Stone closed his notebook. “Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Brandon,” he said. “Can you tell me where Milly Hart lives?”
“Certainly not, I barely know the woman.”
She led them to the door, and after looking both ways up and down the street, she let them out without a word and slammed the door behind them.
“Well, that was useful,” Dino said.
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Dino.”
“What are we doing here?” Dino asked. “Every time somebody asks us what we want, I don’t know what to tell them.”
“Let’s go find Milly Hart,” Stone said.
20
Dino started the car. “Okay, tell me where Milly Hart lives.”
“I don’t know where she lives,” Stone replied.
“Why do you think I know where she lives?”
Stone got out his cell phone and called Fair Sutherlin’s direct line. Her secretary put him through.
“Good afternoon, Stone. Did you have a nice lunch with the president?”
“Very nice, thank you.”
“You mean you enjoyed the food?”
“He gave us lobster salad,” Stone said. “What’s not to enjoy?”
“Wait until Kate hears about this.”
“Oh, he had Kate’s diet lunch, while Dino and I gorged ourselves.”
“I see. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. By the way, it’s not black tie.”
“I’m relieved to hear that, since I didn’t bring a dinner jacket.”
“What else can I do for you?” she asked, a leer in her voice.
“I’ve heard that the White House operators can find anybody.”
“That is perfectly so.”
“Would you kindly ask them to find the address of a woman named Milly Hart? With a y?”
“And who is Milly Hart with a y?”
“Someone Brixton Kendrick may have been having an affair with.”
There was a dead silence, for a slow count of about four. “Brix Kendrick was having an affair?”
“At least one, maybe two.”
“Good God! Who was the other one?”
“I’m going to tell you only because I know our reports cross your desk anyway. The other one, confirmed, is Muffy Brandon.”
