Loves Music, Loves To Dance

XXI TUESDAY March 12

Susan hired a babysitter on Tuesday and took the train down to New York. Vince had asked her to come in. “I can understand how difficult this is for you, Mrs. Fox,” he’d said carefully. He did not tell her that they already had a connection to her husband. “We’ll do everything to keep our investigation from the media, but the more we know, the easier that will be.” At eleven o’clock, Susan was in FBI headquarters. “You can contact the Harkness Agency,” she told Vince. “They’ve been trailing Doug. I would like to think he’s just a philanderer, but if it’s more than that, I can’t let it go on.” Vince saw the agony in the face of the pretty young woman opposite him. “No, you can’t let it go on,” he said quietly. “However, it’s a long jump from knowing your husband is playing around to thinking that he might be a serial killer. How did you make that jump?”

“I was only twenty and I was so in love with him.” It was as though Susan was talking to herself.

“How long ago was that?”

“Fifteen years.”

Vince kept his face impassive. “What happened at that time, Mrs. Fox?” Her eyes fixed somewhere on the wall behind him, Susan told Vince about lying for Doug when Nan Sheridan died and how Doug had called out Erin’s name in his sleep the night her body was discovered.

When she was finished, Vince said, “The Harkness Agency knows where his apartment is?”

“Yes.” After she revealed everything she knew or suspected, Susan felt a vast weariness. Now all she had to do was live with herself for the rest of her life. “Mrs. Fox, this is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. We need to check with the Harkness Agency. The fact that they were following your husband could be of great value. Can you act normally with him for the next day or two? Don’t forget, our investigation may clear him.”

“It isn’t hard to keep up appearances with my husband. Most of the time he doesn’t notice me except to complain.”

When she left, Vince called in Ernie. “We have our first big break and I don’t want to blow it. This is what we’ll do…”

On Tuesday afternoon, Jay Charles Stratton was booked for grand theft. The NYPD detectives, in conjunction with the Lloyd’s of London security staff, had found the jeweler who fenced some of his stolen diamonds. The rest of the gems that were listed as being in the missing pouch were traced to a private safe deposit box rented under the name Jay Charles.

It had been a long meeting and the tension in the office all day was brutal. How do you explain to your best clients that a company’s accountants pulled the wool over your eyes? That sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. Doug called home several times and was surprised to hear the babysitter pick up the phone. Something was definitely up. He’d make it his business to get home tonight. It wasn’t that hard to straighten Susan out. His confidence oozed away. She wasn’t beginning to suspect… Or was she?

On Tuesday evening, Darcy went straight home from work. All she wanted to do was heat a can of soup and go to bed early. The tension of the last two weeks was catching up with her. She knew it.

At eight o’clock Michael phoned. “I’ve heard tired voices, but yours just might win first prize.”

“I’m sure it would.”

“You’ve been driving yourself too hard, Darcy.”

“Don’t worry. I intend to come straight home from the office for the rest of the week.”

“That’s a good idea. Darcy, I’ll be out of town for a few days, but keep Saturday for me, won’t you? Or Sunday? Or better still, both days?” Darcy laughed. “Let’s plan on Saturday. Have fun.” “It isn’t fun. It’s a psychiatric convention. I’ve been asked to fill in for a friend who’s had to cancel. You want to know what it’s like to have four hundred shrinks in one room at the same time?”

“I can’t imagine.”