by Stuart Woods
“So,” he said to Holly, “I know who you are. Who are these two?”
“Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti, NYPD, and Stone Barrington, NYPD, retired.”
The detective nodded. “I read the papers. This got something to do with that lady from the White House?”
“The corpse in the bedroom is the lady from the White House,” Holly replied.
“Be right back,” the detective said. “You three stay here.” He walked down the hall toward the bedroom.
“Don’t you dare give him that diary,” Holly said to Dino.
“I hadn’t planned to,” Dino replied.
The detective returned. “How come you’re gloved?” he asked Dino.
“Because I’m the only one carrying gloves.”
“What did you touch with those gloves?”
“I had a look in the filing cabinet in the study and in the top desk drawers.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing I’d want in my scrapbook.”
“Did the lady have a diary?”
“I looked in the bedside drawer,” Stone said, “and there was no diary. I didn’t touch anything, though. Your people have a clean shot at prints.”
“Gee, thanks,” the detective said. “Suppose I print all of you, anyway?”
“Suppose you go fuck yourself,” Dino said.
“Now, gentlemen,” Holly interjected. “Everybody be nice. Detective, I’ll confirm that nobody touched anything.”
“How’d you get in the house?” he asked. “The front door was locked.”
“The b?ack door isn’t,” Holly said, careful about her use of tense.
“You spooks don’t run the Arlington PD,” he said.
“We have neither the time nor the inclination,” Holly replied. “We’re grateful for your help.”
Stone spoke up. “You should be grateful,” he said to the detective.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because if she hadn’t made the request, you’d have two TV trucks out there and a yard full of reporters clamoring for a statement.”
The detective made a mock curtsy in Holly’s direction. “Thanks for keeping my picture out of the papers. The chief might have seen it.”
“Here’s an idea,” Dino said. “Why don’t you call them back in?”
“Good idea,” the detective replied.
“Detective,” Holly said, “I don’t think you need us anymore.”
“Christ knows that’s true,” he replied. “Good afternoon and good riddance.”
Holly herded Stone and Dino out the door. “Let’s move,” she said. Then, when they were outside: “Dino, don’t let that diary fall down your pants.”
They were back in the suite at the Hay-Adams before Dino produced the diary. Holly grabbed it, sat on the sofa, opened it to the last page, and read aloud.
“‘Those two from New York grilled me relentlessly this afternoon. I told them everything, and it was embarrassing, but it turned me on. Took care of that when I got home. Now I’m depressed.’”
“She doesn’t sound all that depressed,” Dino said, “not if she could do herself after our conversation.”
“I never knew being interrogated was a turn-on,” Stone said.
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Dino replied.
Holly was turning pages, scanning them. “My goodness, she described every sexual encounter with Brix, even the masturbatory ones!”
“Was she sleeping with anybody else besides Brix?” Stone asked.
“Apparently not,” Holly replied.
“Then the paraphernalia in her bedside drawer was just in case?”
Holly closed the diary and tossed it to Stone. “This only goes back to the first of last year. She must have earlier ones.”
“I don’t think it’s worth trying to get them out of the Arlington cops,” Stone said. “Not if this one covers the time leading up to the deaths of Brix and his wife.”
“You can read the whole thing,” Holly said, rising. “I’m going back to the office.”
“Why don’t you brief the director,” Stone said. “I’m not ready to face her again.”
“What can I tell her?”
“Tell her we’ve hit a brick wall. Tell her all our possible witnesses are dead.”
“I’ll do that,” Holly said, then took her leave.
“There’s one still alive,” Dino said when she had gone. “The March Hare.”
“Well,” Stone said, “if you’d like to introduce me tntroduceo her, I’ll be glad to ask her all the right questions.”
“I think you already know her,” Dino said.
“Yeah?”
“Sure, she’s somebody at the White House, and you know who you know there.”
“Fair Sutherlin?”
“Who else?”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Who else you got?”
Stone shrugged. “We can’t nail her for all this just because we don’t have another suspect.”
“Stone, do you remember ever having been a cop?” Dino asked.
“Vaguely.”
“What does a cop do when he’s eliminated all the suspects but one, but he doesn’t have any evidence?”
“You want us to interrogate Fair?”
“Why not? I’d beat her with a telephone book if I could get away with it.”
“I don’t think my heart would be in it,” Stone said.
“I think you’re referring to another part of your anatomy,” Dino said.
“You think that just because I slept with her, I’d give her a pass?”
“I can’t think of any other reason for you to give her a pass,” Dino said. “Tell me one.”
“I just don’t think she’s capable of all this. Under the political hard shell, she’s a decent person.”
“That’s not an assumption I’m willing to make,” Dino said. “Call her.”
43
Fair Sutherlin’s new secretary showed them into her office. “Hey, fellas,” she said, waving them to the sofa. “What’s up?”
“You already have a new secretary?” Dino asked.
“They’re lined up, wanting to get into the West Wing,” Fair replied. “It only took a phone call. I hear you went out to Charlotte Kirby’s house, just in time to discover the body.”
“Yes,” Stone said, “we always seem to get places just a little late.”
“What did you find?”
Dino snorted. “You mean you haven’t seen the crime-scene photos yet?”
“Actually, I did. They were e-mailed to me. I’ve never seen anything quite like that. I’ve only got twenty minutes, fellas, and you’ve already used up five. What do you need?”
“Just some answers,” Dino said.
Stone crossed his legs and looked at a picture on the wall across the room. “Is that one from the National Gallery?” he asked.
Fair started to answer, but Dino cut her off.
“Never mind that. You were in the White House when Brix’s wife’s body was found, weren’t you?”
“Don’t you remember our last conversation about that?” she asked irritably.
“Indulge me.”
“I’m at the White House every day of my life,” she said, “weekends included, and a lot of nights, too. Ask?c me if I killed her.”
“Did you kill her?” Dino asked, following instructions. “Even accidentally?”
“No. What else?”
“But you knew her.”
“Asked and answered the first time we talked. Listen, do you think that by asking me the same questions over and over, you’re going to get different answers?”
“I’ve known it to happen,” Dino said.
“Well, this is not a police interrogation room, and I’m not the perp, so don’t try that shit with me.”
“Shall I tell the president you said that?” Dino asked.
“Tell him anything you like,” Fair said, shrugging. “Now, let’s cut to the chase, fe
llas. We’re busy around here saving the country.”
“Saving it from what?” Stone asked.
“Whatcha got?” she asked. “We’ll save the country from it. We do that every day. Some days, we save the world.”
“How did that story about us interviewing Charlotte Kirby get into the papers?” Dino asked. “And don’t tell me it’s Washington.”
“It’s Washington,” Fair replied.
“Did you give it to somebody?”
“I did not. Did it ever occur to you that Charlotte might have given it to somebody?”
“And then offed herself because it was in the papers?”
“Stranger things have happened in this town. What’s going on here?”
Stone spoke up again. “We’ve run out of people to interview. You’re the last witness standing.”
“Witness? Witness to what?”
“You tell us,” Dino said.
Fair looked at her wristwatch. “You’ve got one more question. Make it a good one.”
Stone looked at Dino. “Yeah, make it a good one. I’m on tenterhooks.”
“All right,” Dino said. “Who do you think killed the Kendricks?”
Fair sighed. “I think Brix killed them both,” she said, then stood up. “Now get out of here. I’m not talking to either of you anymore.” She looked at Stone. “Unless there’s a drink and dinner involved.”
Stone and Dino shuffled out of her office, and the door slammed behind them.
“That was pretty lame,” Stone said.
“Yeah, and you were such a great help,” Dino replied.
“It was your party. I didn’t want to talk to her in the first place.”
“You mentioned that.”
They walked down the hall and out to the car.
“You still think she’s the March Hare?” Stone asked.
“Who else is there?” Dino asked.
“There must be seven or eight hundred people working in there,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the West Wing. “We didn’t talk to all of them.”
“Are you proposing that we talk to just the women?” Dino asked.
“Suppose the Marchose the Hare is a man? Suppose Brix swung both ways?”
“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.”
