D.C. Dead

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, fellas. 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.”