"Yes. To discuss money Tilly said he owed him.”
She looked at him.
"Yes," he said.
She kept looking at him. It was beginning to sink in.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"It's just ... I've never had reason to believe ...”
"I appreciate that.”
"I just never ..." she said, and let the sentence trail.
She was thinking now. Wondering about everything he'd told her. Considering whether or not it was even remotely possible that ...
"There are prenuptial agreements," she said.
Very softly. "We signed prenuptial agreements.”
"What did they say, Mrs. Bowles?”
"If ... if we ever got divorced ...
I'd get half of everything he owns. Now and forever.”
"I see.”
"And ... we're in each other's wills as well. As sole beneficiaries. Whoever goes first ...”
She shook her head.
"There's lots of money involved," she said.
Carella waited.
"His father left him something in excess of a million dollars ... and, of course, he's done very well on his own. He'll probably be made a partner this spring.”
She shook her head.
"I just can't believe this, really. If you say he called Tilly ...”
"Yes, he's admitted that.”
"Then, well ... I suppose he did. And I suppose if he was considering a - divorce, he might have given it second ... but he wasn't, he isn't, I know that. We love each other. And if you're suggesting ...
I mean, I don't know what you're suggesting, but I guess you're trying to say Martin got this Tilly person to ...”
"Yes, Mrs. Bowles, I'm suggesting that's a possibility.”
"But that's just it. If that were the case, why would he have hired Darrow?”
"Who's Darrow?" Carella asked, puzzled.
"A private investigator.”
"A what?" Carella said. He was thoroughly surprised. "Why'd he hire a private ...?was "To get to the bottom of this. To find out who was trying to hurt me. So you see ...”
"When was this?" he asked.
"He started on Monday.”
"I wish you'd have told me.”
"I didn't see any reason why I should.
The man's legitimate, he's ...”
"How do you know that?”
"I checked.”
"I wish you'd have let me do the checking.”
"It seemed such a simple thing to do. He gave me his card, I simply called the number in Chicago ...”
"Your husband hired a private investigator from Chicago?”
"Yes.”
"Why? Don't we have enough of them here?”
"I don't know why. He's supposed to be very good.”
"And you say you called him in Chicago?”
"The number, yes. On his card. It's a real detective agency.”
"Why'd your husband hire him, do you know?”
"I just told you. To protect me. And to find whoever was trying to kill me.”
"Well, now that Tilly's dead, he won't have to do that anymore, will he? Tell me this man's name again.”
"Andrew Darrow.”
"How do you spell that last name?”
"Do-A-Rather-Rather ...”
Carella was already thinking it was a phony. A private eye named Darrow? As in Clarence?
"... O-W.”
"And the name of his company?”
“A. N. Darrow Investigations.”
I'll bet, Carella thought.
"Have you still got his card?”
"Yes.”
"Can I see it, please?”
"It's in my bag," she said.
She went out of the room. When she came back, she handed him what seemed to be a bona fide business card-but no one ever asked for identification when you had these things printed up.
He copied down the name, address, and telephone number printed on the face of the card, and then handed it back to her. It was beginning to get dark outside. He thanked her for her time, and told her he'd stay in touch. What she'd told him about the prenuptial agreement worried him considerably, but he tried not to reveal this. Nor was he too terrifically pleased that Martin Bowles had hired a stranger from Chicago to protect his wife from harm.
The moment he got back to the squadroom, he dialed the number he'd copied from the card. A recorded message said: "You've reached Darrow Investigations. I'm out of town just now, but if you'll leave a message when you hear the beep, I'll get back to you as soon as I return. Thank you.”
Darrow Investigations, he thought, and dialed 1-312-555-1212.
"Directory Assistance," a voice said.
"In Chicago," he said. "A listing for Darrow Investigations on South Clark Street.”
"How are you spelling that?" she asked.
"Do-A-Rather-Rather-O-Will," he said.
As in Clarence, he thought.
"One moment, please," the operator said.
He waited.
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't have a listing under that name.”
"Can you try A. N. Darrow?" he asked.
"Is that N as in Nancy?”
"Yes, please.”
"Moment, please.”
He waited again.
When she came back, she said, "Nothing under that name, either, sir.”
"Are you sure?”
"Yes, sir.”
“Thank you," he said, and hung up.
He thought for a moment, and then looked through his personal directory for the number of the telephone company's P.A. line. When he got through, he identified himself to the woman who answered, told her he was investigating a homicide and needed a name and address for a telephone number in Chicago. She said she'd call back in a moment. It actually took her three minutes to punch up and dial the number her records showed for the 87th Precinct. When she got Carella again, she asked him for the number in Chicago, said she'd contact her equivalent there, and called back ten minutes later to say the number he'd given her was an unpublished number.
"I don't understand the problem," he said.
"I just told you, sir. It's a nonpub.”
"Am I talking to a P.A. operator?”
"Yes, sir, you are.”
"And do those letters still stand for Police Assistance?”
"They do, sir.”
"I've had cooperation on nonpubs in the past," he said.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "You're probably thinking of a nonlist.”
"No, I'm thinking of a nonpub. This is a homicide I'm working.”
"Yes, sir, I appreciate that. But I can't let you have a nonpub ...”
"Did Chicago give you a name and address for that number?”
"No, sir, Chicago did not.”
"Who'd you talk to there?”
"I can let you have the number at Illinois Bell, sir, but they seemed pretty adamant about it.”
"Let me have the number, please," he said.
"Yes, sir," she said, and gave him the number.
Carella dialed it.
"Subpoena Group," a woman's voice said.
Carella figured he was already in trouble.
"Yes," he said, "this is Detective Carella at the 87th Precinct in Isola?”
"Yes?" she said.
"Who am I speaking to, please?”
"Mrs. Fisher.”
"Mrs. Fisher, I'm working a homicide down here, and I have a Chicago telephone number I understand is unpublished ...”
"Yes, sir?”
"I'd like a name and address for that number.”
"You'll have to get a court order ...”
"This is a homicide," he said.
"You'll still need a subpoena ordering us to release that information.”
"Well, that might be a little difficult ...”
"Yes, sir.”
"... seeing as I'm all the way down here, and you're ...”
"Yes, sir, but that's the way it's done here.”
"Are you talking about an Illinois court order?”
"Yes, sir. This is Illinois, sir.”
"That's just what I mean. A man's been killed down here ...”
"Yes, sir.”
"And normally, when we're investigating ...”
"All of our requests come from law-enforcement officers, sir.”