She touched her own face as though it hurt and she expected to find it bleeding. “Roger — Mr. Jasper — these are not violent people. How did all this happen to them? And to me? I’m a respectable woman. I don’t go around breaking into people’s houses or picking up things I’m not supposed to touch. Yet I did.”
“It’s not too late to correct one of those mistakes. Return the letter.”
“It’s my property.”
“As long as it was on Roger Lennard’s table, it belongs to him. If he had posted it, it would be yours on delivery.”
He didn’t realize her intention until she was already in the street, darting between the cars. She must have been sixty or more, but she moved with the speed of a natural athlete and luck was with her. He didn’t catch up with her until the letter was in the mailbox, beyond the reach of everyone except the U.S. Postal Service.
“Roger intended to mail it,” she said calmly. “I simply did it for him.”
They returned to Hibiscus Court, walking in silence like strangers. The lieutenant was sitting in the front seat of his unmarked car, talking on a radiotelephone. He got out when he saw them coming.
His face remained impassive but he sounded rather amused. “You two look as if you’ve been playing games. A little hot for that, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “One of my men tells me you talked for a while at the bus stop, then Mrs. Holbrook suddenly dashed across the road and mailed something in the postbox. Is that right, Mrs. Holbrook?”
“Quite right,” she said. “I remembered a letter I’d forgotten to post earlier.”
“Memories like that pop up at the darnedest times, don’t they? I mean, one minute you’re sitting calmly talking to your lawyer and the next minute you’re tearing across the road waving your purse to stop traffic.”
“Things happen like that sometimes.”
“Was it an important letter?”
“It was to me.”
“Don’t you have a secretary who handles that sort of chore?”
“He had to go to the dentist.”
Because it was true it sounded true. He let the subject drop. To Aragon he said, “By the way, I didn’t ask you how you managed to arrive here so fast. You got ESP? Listen to police calls?”
“I answer my telephone.”
“Oh, never mind. I don’t expect the truth anyway. I haven’t met a lawyer yet who told the truth the first time around.”
“I’m sorry your experience has been so limited.”
“That could be taken as a hostile remark.”
“Yours wasn’t very friendly either, lieutenant.”
“Maybe not, but this is my show. You’re the guest. When the time comes and it’s your show I’ll be just as polite as I have to be.”
“I look forward to that.”
The lieutenant returned his attention to Mrs. Holbrook. “Is this your first visit to Mr. Lennard’s place?”
“Yes.”
“Abercrombie tells me Lennard had another visitor around lunchtime.”
“He told me that, too.”
“Can you guess who it might have been? Any ideas on the subject?”
“His description was very vague.”
“That’s not an answer to my question, Mrs. Holbrook. You said previously you were fond of Roger Lennard, very fond — I believe that was how you phrased it. If you were all that fond of him, you must know something about his private life.”
“We had many conversations, but they were mostly about his work with the students.”
“Do you know his friends?”
“Some of them.”
“One in particular?”
“I knew Roger had one in particular but I wasn’t personally acquainted with him. I only saw him when he came to pick Roger up at school occasionally.”
“What’s his name?”
“Timothy North.”
“Is he locally employed?”
“He’s a bartender. He’s not in Roger’s social class at all. I can’t understand how the two of them—”
“Where does he tend bar?”
Mrs. Holbrook appealed to Aragon. “Do I have to answer all these questions?”
“He’ll get the answers anyway,” Aragon said. “If you save him time he might save you trouble.”
“It’s called Phileo’s,” Mrs. Holbrook said. “I believe it’s a — well, a strange place. I’m sure Roger didn’t go there habitually. He might have dropped in now and then. But Roger was a very idealistic young man.”
“You keep referring to him in the past tense, Mrs. Holbrook.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of doing it.”
“You happen to be correct. Roger never regained consciousness. They’ve pulled the plugs.”
She stood very straight and stiff. The lieutenant had seen other people do this when they were stretched too taut and getting ready to snap. “Let’s stop the questioning for now.”
“My God,” she said. “What if I had come sooner? Could I have saved him? What if—”
“Look, this job is tough enough without the what-ifs. You go home and take a stiff drink. Or a couple of aspirin. To each his own.”
“Did he kill himself?”
“He might have had a little help. However, there was a piece of paper in his typewriter that might have been the beginning of a suicide note. But we have no proof that it was or that he wrote it. You go home,” he repeated. “Hit the booze or the aspirin and take a rest.”
“I don’t want—”
“You don’t want,” the lieutenant said. “But I want. Good day, Mrs. Holbrook.”
She refused Aragon’s offer to drive her back to the school, but she let him walk her to her car which she’d left at a gas station. She didn’t move like the woman who’d run across the street to post the letter. Her gait was slow and awkward, as if she had, within the hour, grown years older and pounds heavier. She rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment before putting the keys in the ignition.
“Are you sure you can make it?” Aragon said.
“I have to,” she said simply. “This has just been a preliminary event. The main bout’s coming up now.”
The scarcity of cars in the Privileged Parking zone made it apparent that the board of directors’ meeting was over. She expected nothing further for the present than an informal note or a message from her secretary. Instead, her secretary had gone home and Hilton Jasper was sitting in the office, waiting.
In spite of the no smoking please sign on her desk and the absence of ashtrays, he was smoking a cigarette. When she entered he crushed the cigarette in the wastebasket with obvious reluctance and rose to his feet.
“I’ve been waiting for you” — he consulted his wristwatch — “for over an hour.”
“Punching a time clock isn’t part of my job. This is my private office. Who let you in?”
He indicated the girl Gretchen, who was in the opposite corner of the room, still dusting books but no longer humming. “She’s not much of a talker but she’s a very good worker. I could use her in my business.”
Gretchen gave no real sign that she heard or understood or cared, but she increased her pace and Mrs. Holbrook knew she had done all three.
She said, “You’d better stop for the day, Gretchen.”
“I’m not finished.”
“If you finish all the books today, you won’t have any left to do tomorrow.”
“I can do them again.”
“That’s nonsense, Gretchen. Now you hurry along and get into your swimsuit. It’s almost pool time. You’re such a strong swimmer, the timid students need your good example. Then afterwards maybe John will let you help him clean the pool.”
The girl hesitated. She wanted to stay and dust the rest of the books but she also wanted to set a good example. Then suddenly she made up her mind, stuffed all the dustcloths into the tote bag and trudged across the room and out into the hall.