Scandalous Behavior

36

Two days later, Dr. Don received a letter from the New York State tax people, demanding his federal tax returns for the past four years and a list of the days he had spent in New York during those years and their purpose. He immediately called his accountant. “How the hell am I supposed to get all this information?”

“I have your tax returns. Do you have a diary or keep a calendar of your travels?”

“Yes.”

“Then extract the information they want and send it to me. I’ll send them a letter saying that we’re working on it.”

“Are they going to hit me for back taxes?”

“It’s too early to tell. Do you pay state taxes in California?”

“No.”

“Where is your legal residence?”

“In Florida.”

“For how long?”

“Four years.”

“Where was your legal residence before that?”

“I’m not sure, exactly.”

“You don’t know where you lived four years ago?”

“Maybe New Mexico, maybe Georgia.”

“Did you pay state taxes in either of those?”

“Yes, in Georgia.”

“Send me the info, and I’ll get started.”

“How long is it going to take to clear this up?”

“Many months, maybe years.”

“Oh, shit.”

“That’s what everybody says.” He hung up.

Less than an hour later, Dr. Don received another call.

“Good morning, it’s Lisa, at The New Yorker.”

He managed a smiling voice. “Good morning, Lisa.”

“I’ve received an anonymous tip that the New York State tax authorities are investigating you. Any truth to that?”

“Are you in cahoots with my mailman? I just got a letter an hour ago.”

“Like I said, the source is anonymous — sounds accurate, though. What did they ask you for?”

“Tax returns, my schedule in New York.”

“Uh-oh.”

“That’s pretty much what my accountant said, though in a great many more billable words.”

“Thanks, that’s all I needed to know. Oh, just one more thing: Why did you paint the front of Stone Barrington’s house?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Goodbye, Lisa.” He hung up.

“Now what?” his wife asked.

“We’re down a point,” Calhoun replied.

Stone and Dino were about to leave for their morning ride when Lady Bourne, née Elizabeth Bowen, pulled up in her car and got out.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” Stone said, shaking her hand and introducing Dino. “How are you?”

“I’m very well, but Charles, I fear, is not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought, perhaps, he looked slimmer on his return from Paris.”

“Yes, he’s losing weight steadily, not eating well. The doctor comes every day. He thinks we’re near the end.”

“May I come and see him?”

“I don’t think you would enjoy the experience, and he might not even know you’re there. I’ll give him your regards, and if he asks for you, I’ll call.”

“Please do.”

“I’ll tell him you’re exercising the horses, too — he’ll like that.”

“It’s more the other way around.”

“I want to thank you again for the wonderful honeymoon you gave us in Paris.”

“I only gave you the house — you supplied everything else.”

“Well, yes, but our visit was greatly enhanced by the house.”

“I’m glad.”

“By the way, that Inspector Holmes has called twice at the cottage to see Charles, but I sent him away both times. He may come and see you.”

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“The only contact that Charles has had with the police for many years was over the murder of Richard Curtis by the brigadier. I should think it’s in regard to that.”

“I see.”

“I just thought you should know Holmes might call.”

“Thank you.”

They shook hands again, and she drove away.

“I wonder what’s stirred up the inspector?” Dino asked.

“Who knows?” They mounted their horses and rode away.