Conduct in Question

Chapter 9

In the bedroom, Laura was almost dressed. He sat on the bed. Her gaze in the mirror told him she was already miles away.

“Harry, I’ll be late tonight. The meetings will go straight through dinner.”

“You were late last night too,” he said mildly. Her glance was wary. “I do worry about you, what with this murderer about.”

“Don’t worry. I’m with a group, never alone.”

“Maybe we could go out for dinner Friday night. Have some time together.”

She nodded. “I think that could work. I’ll check my agenda and leave you a message.”

“Friday night? Surely you can’t be booked with work then!”

She shrugged and gathered up her purse.

When she was gone, he chose his suit and squinted in the sunlight to coordinate his shirt and tie. Maybe, if he got into the real money, they could retire somewhere really nice. Fishing boats and brilliant blue waters flashed into his mind. But then, would she ever retire? He had to admit that it seemed doubtful. She was wedded to her career more than to him. But how could she leave him after twenty years? Had passion for Stover entirely blotted out her reason? It wasn’t unlike Richard Crawford and his thraldom. He chose the cufflinks she had given him last Christmas.

When he entered his office, Miss Giveny was hunched over her typewriter, fuming as she tried to replace the ribbon. “The Chin offers are on your desk,” she said flatly.

Harry examined all the offers. Not a single error—that was why he put up with her crankiness. He sighed, as the image of her poor sister, Merle, in her nightie, floated into his mind.

She had already opened a new file for the Deighton estate. Marjorie had executed the will last year, appointing Gideon Trust and Crawford as her executors. With the old man gone, Harry stepped into his place. The house was to be sold and the whole estate divided equally among Katharine, Gerry, and Suzannah. But Suzannah’s share was subject to a secret trust, which he had not yet found.

Staring out the window, he remembered. At tea, Marjorie had said the trust was safe with her. He made a note to hunt through her papers at the house. Usually, a secret trust was in the form of a letter addressed to the executors. Unlike a will, a secret trust did not have to be submitted to the Probate Court, and consequently it did not become part of the public record, available for all to see.

Harry liked to think such documents contained clues to the dark side of the testator’s personality. After all, only the dullest person would have no secrets best kept from prying eyes.

After instructing Miss Giveny to photocopy the will and return the original to the vault, he tried to reach Gerry and Suzannah, without success.

“By the way, Miss Giveny,” he called from his office. “Have we heard from anyone named Rosie this morning?”

His secretary appeared in his doorway and shook her head. “What’s her last name?

Harry shrugged and reached for the phone. Minutes later, he had Sergeant Welkom on the line. “I’ve heard nothing from Miss Deighton’s housekeeper, Rosie. She was supposed to be coming back last night.”

Welkom grunted. “We’re on it, counselor.”

“What about an autopsy?”

“We’ll let you know when we hear from the coroner.”

Damn lazy cop, Harry thought as he made a note.

Expecting Chin at one o’clock, Harry went out for an early lunch. He needed time to think. Miss Giveny had given him a message from Frank earlier that morning, inquiring about Marjorie’s death and her will. Pulling open the door of Moffat’s restaurant, he stopped. He hadn’t even reached Suzannah. How in hell did Frank already know? Maybe Katharine had spoken to him.