I looked over to the patrol car. Rube and Pen were in the backseat, and Detective Lark was leaning through the open door, talking to them. "Something happened tonight that maybe he should know. Pens stalker called the program and said she'd be getting a lethal message."
My skin tingled as Ariana touched my arm. "Can you tell me exactly what he said?"
I repeated the call as best I could remember. "It's recorded, of course."
"I'll tell Ted."
As she went to walk over to the patrol car, I said, "Isn't the question to ask whose advantage it is that Oscar's dead?"
Ariana turned back to me. "You're thinking Jack Yarrow? You see the eminent professor luring Oscar to the top of this building, men shoving him over?"
"Well, yes," I said. "I can, actually."
I didn't get upset until I was back home at Kendall & Creeling. It was almost dawn, and I felt as though I hadn't slept for days. Julia Roberts was my undoing. If only she hadn't purred the moment she saw me. I swept her up in my arms and buried my face in her fur. "Oscar Braithwaite's dead," I told her. Then the tears came.
"I don't know why I'm crying," I sniffled to Jules, who was being remarkably good about the whole thing. "It's not mat I knew him well, but Oscar was my client. And he died in a horrible way."
A vivid picture of Oscar's sprawled body kept appearing in my mind. How long would it take to fall four stories? Only a second or two. Did Oscar have time to realize he was about to die, or be terribly injured? Were his last thoughts for himself, or did he think of his sister?
I'd stuck around and finally driven Pen home while Ariana drove Rube to the radio station to collect Pen's car. Pen had been beside herself with grief. It was somehow shocking to see someone usually full of bold life now so distraught. I'd stayed with her until Rube arrived, feeling totally inadequate. What could I say to comfort her? Not a thing. For want of anything else to do, I'd made her a cup of tea.
I squeezed Jules a little tighter. "Poor Pen," I said to her. "Can you even imagine how she feels?"
Jules yawned. Empathy wasn't her strong suit.
When she struggled politely, I put her down. After Jules had groomed her wet fur into a semblance of order, and I'd managed to pull myself together, and was contemplating a hot shower before I fell into bed, Ariana called.
"That was rough," she said. "Are you OK?"
Tears immediately filled my eyes. "I was until you asked me."
"Are you up to seeing her later today?"
Pen had demanded a meeting this afternoon, insisting that both Ariana and I attend. Rube had said he'd come too. We'd established we'd meet at three o'clock here at Kendall & Creeling.
"I think so." I blinked rapidly. "Sorry to be such a sook."
"Oh, Kylie, don't be so hard on yourself."
There was such warmth in her voice, I said, "Stop it!"
"What?" She sounded startled.
"Don't be so nice to me. It'll make me cry more."
A soft chuckle came down the line. "I'll try to be harsh," she said. "But it'll be difficult."
"I want you to stay on the case, Kylie." Pen Braithwaite was adamant. "Oscar would have expected it. Nail Jack Yarrow as a plagiarist…" She paused, then added, "Or worse."
As it was Sunday, and much quieter than usual in my office, all I could hear of the outside world was a distant siren and the soft rumble of traffic on Sunset Boulevard. Pen, Rube, and I sat around the coffee table I'd recently purloined from Lonnie's office, where it'd been buried under a blizzard of files and papers.
I had the errant thought of how nice it would be to do what I'd originally scheduled for myself-spend the afternoon planting Australian-native bushes in the backyard. I'd only had time to give them a quick watering, so they'd have to survive in their pots another week.
Ariana leaned forward in her chair. "You believe Professor Yarrow had something to do with your brother's death?"
She was casually dressed in what looked like the same well-worn blue jeans she'd been wearing on Friday night. I felt a totally unseemly tug of desire.
Pen, her face gray with strain, said quietly, "I'm sure he's responsible. Yarrow's home free as far as the symposium is concerned. He'll get up in front of his peers and triumph with an address based on Oscar's findings and claim the research as his own. There'll be no one mere to contradict him."
"I'll contradict him," declared Rube stoutly.
Pen patted his hand. "You're such a love to say that, but you know as well as I do that we need hard evidence." She turned to me. "Evidence that Kylie's going to obtain this coming week."
"It would help if I knew what the quokka question was," I said.
"I've no idea," said Pen. She looked at Rube. "Did Oscar confide in you.”
"Not a word."
Crikey, this was no help. "Maybe Erin Fogarty knows," I said. "She worked with Oscar in the field, so she should have a fair idea what was going on."
Pen's expression became bleak. "Erin Fogarty," she said, "broke Oscar's heart. He never got over it."
Rube was surprised. "Why, I saw them talking together on Friday. They seemed on very good terms."
"Where and when was this?" Pen demanded.
"I don't know…I think around four-thirty, when I was leaving. I was walking to my car in the parking structure when I came upon Oscar and Erin, heads together, very lovey-dovey. I didn't like to interrupt, so I pretended I hadn't seen them, got into my car, and left."
Fixing me with a hard stare, Pen said, "You're friendly with this young woman?"
"Working on it."
"Work harder. She's the key. I'm sure of it."
Ariana said, "If this is a murder case-"
"If? If!" Some of Pen's usual spirit showed in her flashing eyes. "Of course Oscar was murdered. I've held back from saying this because I know the investigation's just beginning, but I know in my heart it's true-the same way I know Yarrow had something to do with it."
"What about your stalker?" Rube said. "You know Oscar swore he was going to track him down and beat him to a pulp. And that call last night to your program was a thinly veiled threat. What if he meant the message was Oscar's death?"
I'd had this thought myself, so I waited with interest to see how Pen responded.
"It was so like Oscar to want to protect me." Her lips trembled. "And I laughed at him on Saturday morning when he said he had a lead about my stalker." A tear ran down her cheek. "I hurt his feelings. The last thing he said was that he'd show me."
I could see Pen was about to drop her bundle, so to divert her I said, "Have you opened the envelope?"
"Envelope?"
"Your brother gave us an envelope to be opened if something happened to him," said Ariana. "He said he was giving you an identical one.
"I think I shoved it in a drawer somewhere," said Pen vaguely. "I didn't take him seriously." Her face crumpled.
Rube, obviously seeing she was about to break down, stood up. Taking her arm, he said, "Come on, honey. Let's take you home."
It was an indication of Pen's misery that she didn't protest but meekly allowed herself to be led away.
I saw them out and came back to find Ariana had retrieved Oscar's creased white envelope from the safe.
"Let's have a cuppa," I said, "and we can open it then."
The kitchen was one of my favorite rooms because Ariana had first kissed me there. I couldn't help thinking about that kiss as I watched Ariana's slim fingers opening the envelope.
As I made the tea, she spread the contents out on the kitchen counter. After I'd poured us each a cup of tea-I wondered if Ariana actually liked it, or was just being polite-we examined the material Oscar had thought important enough to include in his after-death missive.
There was a photocopy of a handwritten will, leaving everything to his sister, Penelope Braithwaite. Across the top he had written "Pen has the original."
Several stapled pages were headed "Australian Megafauna." Another set of pages appeared to be an extract of research by someone named Diana Niptucker, Ph.D. The final item was a handwritten letter signed by Oscar Braithwaite.