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“Chicken and bacon with mayo okay?” she asked. “If not I’ll trade you for my fruit salad.”
“Either way,” said Yuki. “I don’t think I can taste anything.”
Yuki seemed to have no appetite but looked glad to have Cindy as company. Cindy was thinking of theChronicle’s six o’clock deadline and had hopes she could update the Hayes v. Cates story in time. It was rare for Yuki to give her exclusive news on the record, but today might be one of those days.
Cindy passed a can of sparkling water to Yuki, pulled the tab on hers. She slid the sandwich to Yuki’s side of the desk and unsealed the container of fruit salad, took a bite of melon, and dialed down whatever feverish expression might be giving her real hunger away. Yuki took a bite of her sandwich, apparently determined not to let Cindy bully her for any front-page tidbits.
Cindy, sitting across the desk from Yuki, was finding it hard not to interrogate her friend. What did Yuki know? And would she tell her? She watched Yuki take her sandwich apart, push a strip of bacon around with her fork, pick it up with her fingers and chew on it for a while. Cindy drank her seltzer and waited. And then, she had to ask.
“Yuki, what caused St. John to call a recess? Schneider asked to talk to the judge, then the judge asked for the prosecution, too. You all spoke for exactly two point seven seconds. You and Schneider went back to your tables and St. John said, ‘Court is adjourned until further notice.’ I was there, Yuki. I can write that.”
“Sure, Cin. Not a problem.”
“So, Yuki. Judge says, ‘Court is adjourned.’ But you and Schneider don’t leave when the room is emptied, so I think there’s some story here.”
Yuki said, “Cin, I would give you akidney,but this is …”
Cindy said, “Let me guess. Off-limits. But. What if I give you one ofmyorgans? How about my liver?”
Yuki laughed, and Cindy was laughing too when Len Parisi’s shadow crossed the doorway.
Yuki looked up. “You need me, Len?”
“Judge wants to meet in chambers. Now.”
CHAPTER 86
THE FRICKE FAMILY chapel, circa 1853, had been built on a treed quarter-acre lot behind the Frickes’ house. The white, wood-frame structure was hidden from the road below by the house and a large copse of trees. There were stained glass windows on the long sides, a red painted front door, and a simple cross at the top of the steeple.
By a quarter to ten, Fricke friends and family had gathered on the freshly mown chapel lawn while Conklin and I stood at the edge of the tree line. I had brought Cappy’s annotated photo from Holly’s funeral and we were attaching names to faces and getting a feeling for the gathering. Some of the mourners were dabbing at their tears or crying out loud. Some were enjoying themselves. Looked like they were at a class reunion or party of old friends.
After scanning the crowd, I put the photo away in my bag and we waded in. Conklin went over to Patty Delaney and cut her from the herd. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but she wasn’t hysterical the way she’d been a few days ago. I foundJudy Borinstein, looking smart in a navy-blue suit and gold accessories. She was speaking to a tearful woman I recognized as Marilyn Stein, a.k.a. Marly, Holly’s assistant and another of Jamie’s lovers, now living in New York City. Borinstein was in business mode as was I, and I broke into their conversation. Marilyn stiffened her face to me and started to move away.
Borinstein caught her by the arm and said, “Marly, we’re lucky to have Sergeant Boxer leading this investigation. Spend a few minutes with her, why don’t you?”
Then Judy was called away.
Marly asked me, “Have you gotten anywhere in Holly’s death?”
“Not yet. It’s possible that this investigation into Jamie’s death will turn up a clue in Holly’s.”
Marly shrugged and looked past me, her expression meant to convey,Whatevah. I couldn’t care less.
I said, “Ms. Stein, I know that Mr. Fricke cared about you very much. We need your help.”
“I can’t tell you anything. I left the Frickes’ employ after Holly was murdered. It’s been six months.”
The lawn had emptied and this might be the last time I’d spend time with this woman.
“Marly, very simply, who wanted Holly dead?”
“Holly would say that I did.”
Conklin came over in time to hear this exchange. He said to Marly, “Why do you say that?”
“I knew too much about her,” Marly said. “I signed a six-page NDA but that didn’t stand up to how much Jamie loved me. I was a servant by day and a madly in love idiot a fewnights a month when he and I were together. Holly knew all of that. It’s a humiliation that will cost me thirty years in therapy and I doubt I will ever trust a man again. But I didn’t kill Holly or Jamie. I have a job and a roommate and a doorman in New York, all of whom can testify to where I was when Jamie was killed.”
I asked for names and numbers and Marly gave them to me. I had other questions. Had there had been any hate mail or threatening phone calls to Holly, any aggression from Jamie toward Holly, anything that at that time, or in retrospect, made her suspect that Holly or Jamie might be in serious danger?