D.C. Dead

42

Someone hammered on the front door. Holly went to answer it, and Dino stuffed the diary under his belt in the small of his back. Holly returned with two police detectives and a couple of people with satchels. Holly directed them to the bedroom, but one detective remained with them.

“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.”