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"He suspects he knows. It has to do with a case Geoff Dorso has been working on and that he's tried to get me to help him with. He's trying to get a man out of prison that he's convinced is innocent."
"Are you helping him with it?"
"Actually, I'd pretty well decided that 'by getting involved I was stirring up a hornet's nest for no reason. Now I'm beginning to think I may have been wrong, that there are a couple of very good reasons to think that Geoff's client indeed may have been unfairly convicted. But on the other hand, I'm certainly not going to put you in any danger to prove it. I promise you that."
Robin stared ahead for a moment and then turned to her mother. "Mom, that doesn't make sense. That's totally unfair. You're putting Dad down for something, and then you're doing the same thing. Isn't not helping Geoff if you think his client shouldn't be in prison 'situational ethics'?"
"Robin!"
"I mean it. Think about it. Now can we order the pizza? I'm hungry."
Shocked, Kerry watched as her daughter stood up and reached for the bag with the video movies they were planning to watch. Robin examined the tides, chose one and put it in the VCR. Just before she turned it on, she said, "Mom, I really think that guy in the car the other day was just trying to scare me. I don't think he really would have run me over. I don't mind if you drop me off at school and Alison picks me up. What's the dif?"
Kerry stared at her daughter for a moment, then shook her head. "The dif is that I'm proud of you and ashamed of myself." She hugged Robin quickly, then released her and went into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, as she was getting out plates for the pizza, the phone rang and a hesitant voice said, "Ms. McGrath, I'm Barbara Tompkins. I apologize for bothering you, but Mrs. Carpenter, in Dr. Charles Smith's office, suggested that I call you."
As she listened, Kerry grabbed a pen and began jotting notes on the message pad. Dr. Smith was consulted by Barbara... He showed her a picture... Asked her if she wanted to look like this woman... Operated on her... Began counseling her... Helped her select an apartment... Sent her to a personal shopper... Now is calling her "Suzanne" and stalking her...
Finally Tompkins said, "Ms. McGrath, I'm so grateful to Dr. Smith. He's turned my life around. I don't want to report him to the police and ask for a restraining order. I don't want to hurt him in any way. But I can't let this go on."
"Have you ever felt you were in physical danger from him?" Kerry asked.
There was a brief hesitation before Tompkins answered slowly, "No, not really. I mean he's never tried to force himself on me physically. He's actually been quite solicitous, treating me as though I were fragile somehow--like a china doll. But I also get a sense occasionally of terrible, restrained anger in him, and that it could easily be unleashed, maybe on me. For example, when he showed up to take me out to dinner last night, I could tell he wasn't happy that I was ready to immediately get out of my apartment. And for a moment I thought he might lash out. It's just that I didn't want to be alone with him. And now I feel as if I outright refused to see him, he could get very, very angry. But as I told you, he's been so good to me. And I know a restraining order could seriously damage his reputation."
"Barbara, I'm going in to see Dr. Smith on Monday. He doesn't know it, but I am. I think from what you tell me, and particularly from the fact that he calls you Suzanne, that he's suffering from some sort of breakdown. I hope he might be persuaded to seek help. But I can't advise you not to speak to the New York police if you're frightened. In fact, I think you should."
"Not yet. There's a business trip I was going to make next month, but I can rearrange my schedule and take it next week. I'd like to talk to you again when I come back; then I'll decide what I should do."
When she hung up, Kerry sank into a kitchen chair, the notes of the conversation in front of her. The situation was getting much more complicated. Dr. Smith had been stalking Barbara Tompkins. Had he also been stalking his own daughter? If so, it was very likely that it was his Mercedes Dolly Bowles and little Michael had seen parked in front of the Reardon house the night of the murder.
She remembered the partial license numbers Bowles claimed to have seen. Had Joe Palumbo had a chance to check them against Smith's car?
But if Dr. Smith had turned on Suzanne the way Barbara Tompkins feared he might turn on her, if he was the one responsible for her death, then why was Jimmy Weeks so afraid of being connected to Suzanne Reardon's murder?
I need to know more about Smith's relations.h.i.+p with Suzanne before I see him, before I know which questions to ask him, Kerry thought. That antique dealer, Jason Arnott--he might be the one to speak to. According to the notes she had found in the file, he had been just a friend but went into New York frequently with Suzanne to auctions and whatever. Perhaps Dr. Smith met them sometimes.
She placed a call to Arnott, leaving a message requesting him to call her back. Kerry then debated about making one more call.
It would be to Geoff, asking him to set up a second meeting at the prison with Skip Reardon.
Only this time she would want to have both his mother and his girlfriend, Beth Taylor, there as well.
Jason Arnott had planned to stay quietly at home on Friday night and prepare a simple dinner for himself. With that in mind he had sent his twice-weekly cleaning woman shopping, and she had returned with the filet of sole, watercress, pea pods and crisp French bread he had requested. But when Amanda Coble phoned at five o'clock to invite him to dinner at the Ridgewood Country Club with Richard and her, he had accepted gladly.
The Cobles were his kind of people--superrich but marvelously unpretentious; amusing; very, very smart. Richard was an international banker and Amanda an interior designer. Jason successfully handled his own portfolio and keenly enjoyed talking with Richard about futures and foreign markets. He knew that Richard respected his judgment and Amanda appreciated his expertise in antiques.
He decided they would be a welcome diversion after the disquieting time he had spent in New York yesterday with Vera Todd. And in addition, he had met a number of interesting people through the Cobles. In fact, their introduction had led to a most successful forage in Palm Springs three years ago.
He drove up to the front door of the club just as the Cobles surrendered their car to the parking valet. He was a moment behind them going through the front entrance, then waited as they greeted a distinguished-looking couple who were just leaving. He recognized the man immediately. Senator Jonathan Hoover. He'd been at a couple of political dinners where Hoover put in an appearance but they'd never met face to face.
The woman was in a wheelchair but still managed to look regal in a deep blue dinner suit with a skirt that came to the tips of high-laced shoes. He had heard that Mrs. Hoover was disabled, but had never seen her before. With an eye that instantly absorbed the smallest detail, he noted the position of her hands, clasped together, partially concealing the swollen joints of her fingers.
She must have been a knockout when she was young, and before all this happened, he thought as he studied the still-stunning features dominated by sapphire blue eyes.
Amanda Coble glanced up and saw him. "Jason, you're here." She waved him over and made the introductions. "We're talking about those terrible murders in Summit this morning. Both Senator Hoover and Richard knew the lawyer, Mark Young."
"It's pretty clear that it was a mob hit," Richard Coble said angrily.
"I agree," Jonathan Hoover said. "And so does the governor. We all know how he's cracked down on crime these eight years, and now we need Frank Green to keep up the good work. I can tell you this: If Weeks were being tried in a state court, you can bet the attorney general would have completed the plea bargain and gotten Haskell's testimony, and these murders never would have happened. And now Royce, the man who bungled this whole operation, wants to be governor. Well, not if I can help it!"
"Jonathan," Grace Hoover murmured reprovingly. "You can tell it's an election year, can't you, Amanda?" As they all smiled, she added, "Now we mustn't keep you any longer."
"My wife has been keeping me in line since we met as college freshmen," Jonathan Hoover explained to Jason. "Good seeing you again, Mr. Arnott."
"Mr. Arnott, haven't we met before as well?" Grace Hoover asked suddenly.
Jason felt his internal alarm system kick in. It was sending out a strong warning. "I don't think so," he answered slowly. I'm sure I'd have remembered, he thought. So what makes her think we've met?
"I don't know why, but I feel as though I know you. Well, I'm sure I'm wrong. Good-bye."
Even though the Cobles were their usual interesting selves and the dinner was delicious, Jason spent the evening heartily wis.h.i.+ng he had stayed home alone and cooked the filet of sole.
When he got back to his house at ten-thirty, his day was further ruined by listening to the one message on his answering machine. It was from Kerry McGrath, who introduced herself as a Bergen County a.s.sistant prosecutor, gave her phone number, asked him to call her at home till eleven tonight or first thing in the morning. She explained that she wanted to talk to him unofficially about his late neighbor and friend, the murder victim, Suzanne Reardon.
On Friday evening, Geoff Dorso went to dinner at his I parents' home in Ess.e.x Fells. It was a command performance. Unexpectedly, his sister Marian, her husband, Don, and their two- year-old twins had come in from Boston for the weekend. His mother immediately tried to gather together her four other children, their spouses and offspring, to welcome the visitors. Friday was the only night all the others could make it at once, so Friday it would have to be.
"So you will postpone any other plans, won't you, Geoff?" his mother had half pleaded, half ordered when she had called him that afternoon.
Geoff had no plans, but in the hopes of building up credit against another demand invitation, he hedged: "I'm not sure, Mom. I'll have to rearrange something, but..."
Immediately he was sorry for having chosen that tack. His mother's voice changed to a tone of lively interest as she interrupted, "Oh, you've got a date, Geoff! Have you met someone nice? Don't cancel it. Bring her along. I'd love to meet her!"
Geoff groaned inwardly. "Actually, Mom, I was just kidding. I don't have a date. I'll see you around six."
"All right, dear." It was clear his mother's pleasure in his acceptance was tempered by the fact that she wasn't about to be introduced to a potential daughter-in-law.
As he got off the phone, Geoff admitted to himself that if this were tomorrow night, he would be tempted to suggest to Kerry that she and Robin might enjoy dinner at his parents' home. She'd probably run for the hills, he thought. He found it suddenly disquieting to realize that several times during the day the thought had run through his mind that his mother would like Kerry very, very much.
At six o'clock he drove up to the handsome, rambling Tudor house that his parents had bought twenty-seven years ago for one-tenth of its present value. It was an ideal family home when we were growing up, he thought, and it's an ideal family home now with all the grandchildren. He parked in front of the old carriage house that now was the residence of his youngest and still-single sister. They'd all had their turn at using the carriage house apartment after college or graduate school. He'd stayed there when he was at Columbia Law School, then for two years after that.
We've had it great, he acknowledged as he breathed in the cold November air and antic.i.p.ated the warmth of the inviting, brightly lighted house. His thoughts turned toward Kerry. I'm glad I'm not an only child, he said to himself. I'm grateful Dad didn't die when I was in college and Mother didn't remarry and settle a couple of thousand miles away. It couldn't have been easy for Kerry.
I should have called her today, he thought. Why didn't I? I know she doesn't want anyone hovering over her, but, on the other hand, she doesn't really have anyone to share her worries with. She can't protect Robin the way this family could protect one of our kids if there were a threat.
He went up the walk and let himself into the noisy warmth, so typical when three generations of the Dorso clan gathered.
After effusive greetings to the Boston branch and a casual h.e.l.lo to the siblings whom he saw regularly, Geoff managed to escape into the study with his father.
Lined with law books and signed first editions, it was the one room off limits to exploring youngsters. Edward Dorso poured a scotch for his son and himself. Seventy years old, he was a retired attorney who had specialized in business and corporate law and once numbered among his clients several Fortune 500 companies.
Edward had known and liked Mark Young and was anxious to hear any behind-the-scenes information about his murder that Geoff might have picked up in court.
"I can't tell you much, Dad," Geoff said. "It's hard to believe the coincidence that a mugger or muggers just happened to botch a robbery and kill Young, just when his fellow victim, Haskell, was about to plea bargain in return for testifying against Jimmy Weeks." "I agree. Speaking of which, I had lunch in Trenton today with Sumner French. Something that would interest you came up. There is a planning board official in Philadelphia they're positive gave Weeks inside information ten years ago, about a new highway being built between Philly and Lancaster. Weeks picked up some valuable property and made a huge profit selling it to developers when the plans for the highway were made public."
"Nothing new about inside tips," Geoff observed. "It's a fact of life and almost impossible to police. And frequently difficult to prove, I might add."
"I brought this case up for a reason. I gather that Weeks bought some of these properties for next to nothing because the guy who had the options on them was desperate for cash."
"Anyone I know?"
"Your favorite client, Skip Reardon."
Geoff shrugged. "We travel in close circles, Dad, you know that. It's just one more way Skip Reardon was pushed down the tube. I remember Tim Farrell talking at the time about how Skip was liquidating everything for his defense. On paper, Skip's financial picture looked great, but he had a lot of optioned land, a heavy construction mortgage on an extravagant house and a wife who seemed to think she was married to King Midas. If Skip hadn't gone to prison, he'd be a rich man today, because he was a good businessman. But my recollection is that he sold off all the options for fair market value."
"Not fair market if the purchaser has privileged information," his father said tartly. "One of the rumors I heard is that Haskell, who was Weeks' accountant even then, was aware of that transaction too. Anyhow it's one of those pieces of information that may be useful some way, some day."
Before Geoff could comment, a chorus of voices from outside the study shouted, "Grandpa, Uncle Geoff, dinner's ready."
"And it has come, the summons, kind..." Edward Dorso quoted as he stood and stretched.
"Go ahead, Dad, I'll be right behind you. I want to check my messages." When he heard Kerry's husky, low voice on the answering machine tape, he pressed the receiver to his ear.
Was Kerry actually saying that she wanted to go to the prison and see Skip again? That she wanted to have his mother and Beth Taylor there? "Hallelujah!" he said aloud.
Grabbing Justin, his nephew who had been sent to get him, Geoff scrambled to the dining room, where he knew his mother was impatiently waiting for everyone to sit down so that grace could be offered.
When his father had concluded the blessing, his mother added, "And we're so grateful to have Marian and Don and the twins with us."
"Mother, it's not as though we live at the North Pole," Marian protested, winking at Geoff. "Boston is about three and a half hours away."
"If your mother had her way, there'd be a family compound," his father commented with an amused smile. "And you'd all be right here, under her watchful eye."
"You can all laugh at me," his mother said, "but I love seeing my whole family together. It's wonderful to have three of you girls settled, and Vickey with a steady boyfriend as nice as Kevin."
Geoff watched as she beamed at that couple.
"Now if I could just get our only son to find the right girl..." Her voice trailed off as everyone turned to smile indulgently at Geoff.
Geoff grimaced, then smiled back, reminding himself that when his mother wasn't riding this horse, she was a very interesting woman who had taught medieval literature at Drew University for twenty years. In fact, he had been named Geoffrey because of her great admiration for Chaucer.
Between courses, Geoff slipped back into the den and phoned Kerry. He was thrilled to realize that she sounded glad to hear from him.
"Kerry, can you go down and see Skip tomorrow? I know his mother and Beth will drop everything to be there when you come."
"I want to, Geoff, but I don't know if I can. I'd be a wreck leaving Robin, even at Ca.s.sie's house. The kids are always outside, and it's right on an exposed corner."
Geoff didn't know he had the solution until he heard himself say, "Then I've got a better idea. I'll pick you both up, and we can leave Robin here with my folks while we're away. My sister and her husband and their kids are here. And because of them, the other grandchildren will be dropping by. Robin will have plenty of company, and if that isn't enough, my brother-in-law is a captain in the Ma.s.sachusetts State Police. Believe me, she'll be safe."
... Sat.u.r.day, November 4th
Jason Arnott lay sleepless most of the night, wrestling with trying to decide how to treat the call from a.s.sistant Prosecutor Kerry McGrath, even, as she so delicately put it, in an "unofficial" capacity.
By 7:00 A.M. he'd made up his mind. He would return her call and, in a courteous, civil, but distant tone, inform her that he would be delighted to meet with her, provided it would not take too long. His excuse would be that he was about to leave on a business trip.
To the Catskills, Jason promised himself. I'll hide out at the house. n.o.body will find me there. In the meantime, this will all blow over. But I can't look as though I have anything to be concerned about.
The decision made, he finally fell into a sound sleep, the kind of sleep he enjoyed after he had successfully completed a mission and knew he was home free.
He called Kerry McGrath first thing when he woke up at nine- thirty. She picked up on the first ring. He was relieved to hear what seemed to be genuine grat.i.tude in her tone.
"Mr. Arnott, I really appreciate your calling, and I a.s.sure you this is unofficial," she said. "Your name came up as having been a friend and antiques expert for Suzanne Reardon, years ago. Something has developed about that case, and I'd very much appreciate an opportunity to talk to you about the relations.h.i.+p you saw between Suzanne and her father, Dr. Charles Smith. I promise, I'll only take a few minutes of your time."
She meant it. Jason could spot a phony, had made a career of it, and she wasn't a phony. It wouldn't be hard to talk about Suzanne, he told himself. He frequently had shopped with her the way he shopped with Vera Shelby Todd yesterday. She had been at many of his parties, but so had dozens of other people. No one could make anything of that.
Jason was totally amenable to Kerry's explanation that she had a firm commitment to be picked up at one and would so much appreciate visiting him within the hour.
Kerry decided to bring Robin with her when she drove to Jason Arnott's house. She knew that it had upset Robin to see her struggling with Bob the night before over the copy of the Haskell note, and she reasoned that the drive to Alpine would give them a half hour each way to chat. She blamed herself for the scene with Bob. She should have realized that there was no way he would let her have the note. Anyhow, she knew what it said. She had jotted it down just as she had seen it so she could show it to Geoff later. It was a sunny, crisp day, the kind, she thought, that renews the spirit. Now that she knew she had to look seriously into the Reardon case and really see it through, she was determined to do it quickly.
Robin willingly had agreed to come along for the ride, although she pointed out that she wanted to be back by noon. She wanted to invite Ca.s.sie over for lunch.
Kerry then told her about the plan for her to visit Geoff's family while she went to Trenton on business.
"Because you're worried about me," Robin said matter-of-factly.
"Yes," Kerry admitted. "I want you where I know you'll be okay, and I know you'll be fine with the Dorsos. Monday, after I drop you off at school, I'll have a talk with Frank Green about all this. Now, Rob, when we get to Mr. Arnott's house, you come in with me, but you do know I have to talk privately to him. You brought a book?"
"Oh-huh. I wonder how many of Geoff's nieces and nephews will be there today. Let's see, he has four sisters. The youngest isn't married. The one next to Geoff has three kids, a boy who's nine- -he's the one closest to my age--and a girl who's seven and a boy who's four. Geoff's second sister has four kids, but they're kind of little--I think the oldest is six. Then there's the one with the two-year-old twins."
"Rob, for heaven sake, when did you learn all this?" Kerry asked.
"The other night at dinner. Geoff was talking about them. You were kind of out of it, I guess. I mean, I could tell you weren't listening. Anyhow I think it will be cool to go down there. He says his mother's a good cook."
As they were leaving Closter and entering Alpine, Kerry glanced down at her directions. "It's not far now."
Five minutes later they drove up a winding road to Jason Arnott's European-style mansion. The bright sun played on the structure, a breathtaking combination of stone, stucco, brick and wood, with towering leaded-pane windows.
"Wow!" Robin said.
"Sort of makes you realize how modestly we live," Kerry agreed, as she parked in the semicircular driveway.