Page 78
Story: The 24th Hour
ON MY WAY back to the Hall, I had a dark thought about a missed opportunity. One that threw shade on Moira. It had taken me too long to figure out how to pose this question and still keep her at the table.
Her phone had rung. She’d answered and had gotten into a lengthy conversation with her producer about people I didn’t know, movie people, events and designer names that hadn’t even grazed my consciousness.
Meanwhile, I was wondering how well Jamie and Moira knew each other. Sexually? And if so, what would that mean? I tried to imagine Moira as a double murderer. I couldn’t picture it.
Moira had said over her phone, “Thanks, Peggy. I’ll call you after I do the podcast.”
Then, she clicked off, saying, “Lindsay, I have to go. Here’s my card. Send me your contact info.”
She gathered her bag, phone, sunglasses. She blew me a kiss and waved down the driver of her smart-looking car.She opened the back door and with a flip of her skirt, a kick of her heels, disappeared into the back seat. The door closed.
And Moira was gone, leaving me with a headache and a lot to think about.
CHAPTER 103
I HAD JUST parked my car in the All Day lot off Bryant across from the Hall when my hip pocket chirped out my ringtone. I looked at the screen. Arthur Bevaqua calling.
“Arthur?”
“Sergeant, I’m walking on Bay Street. Heavy traffic.”
“Same here,” I said, locking my car, picturing the former Fricke house manager I’d talked with so many times in the last year.
“You okay, Arthur?”
“Pretty much, Sergeant. Feeling sad about, well. You know. Listen, I got a call from Ms. Borinstein this morning.”
“Something wrong?
“Mr. Jamie’s will, the draft I gave you when we were in his office.”
“Uh-huh. What about it?”
“Well, Ms. Borinstein and Mr. Jamie both signed the original and she’s a notary. So it’s stamped. It’s good.”
“Arthur, may I call you back? I’m going into the Hall—”
“Mr. Jamie left the house to Ms. Rae.”
I paused a few beats to take in this news, and it surprised me. That Jamie had loved Rae had been established.But how did that affect Arthur?
I asked, “Arthur. How does that affect you? Did you think Jamie would leave the house to you?”
“Hold on, Sergeant. Garbage truck. Okay. I’m here. I was just surprised, you know? That he didn’t want it sold. Money for his sons. Or turn it into a school or a soccer camp.”
“Is Rae at the house now?”
“No. She’s back in Malibu. She’ll be coming next week to look around. I’m just letting you know in case this changes anything.”
“I wonder if Christophe knows. He didn’t tell me.”
“And I haven’t spoken with Ms. Rae. It’s all so sudden. Call if you want to talk about this,” he said.
“Arthur, you sound worried. Why?”
“Ahh. So many questions. No answers.”
“Welcome to my world, Arthur.”
Her phone had rung. She’d answered and had gotten into a lengthy conversation with her producer about people I didn’t know, movie people, events and designer names that hadn’t even grazed my consciousness.
Meanwhile, I was wondering how well Jamie and Moira knew each other. Sexually? And if so, what would that mean? I tried to imagine Moira as a double murderer. I couldn’t picture it.
Moira had said over her phone, “Thanks, Peggy. I’ll call you after I do the podcast.”
Then, she clicked off, saying, “Lindsay, I have to go. Here’s my card. Send me your contact info.”
She gathered her bag, phone, sunglasses. She blew me a kiss and waved down the driver of her smart-looking car.She opened the back door and with a flip of her skirt, a kick of her heels, disappeared into the back seat. The door closed.
And Moira was gone, leaving me with a headache and a lot to think about.
CHAPTER 103
I HAD JUST parked my car in the All Day lot off Bryant across from the Hall when my hip pocket chirped out my ringtone. I looked at the screen. Arthur Bevaqua calling.
“Arthur?”
“Sergeant, I’m walking on Bay Street. Heavy traffic.”
“Same here,” I said, locking my car, picturing the former Fricke house manager I’d talked with so many times in the last year.
“You okay, Arthur?”
“Pretty much, Sergeant. Feeling sad about, well. You know. Listen, I got a call from Ms. Borinstein this morning.”
“Something wrong?
“Mr. Jamie’s will, the draft I gave you when we were in his office.”
“Uh-huh. What about it?”
“Well, Ms. Borinstein and Mr. Jamie both signed the original and she’s a notary. So it’s stamped. It’s good.”
“Arthur, may I call you back? I’m going into the Hall—”
“Mr. Jamie left the house to Ms. Rae.”
I paused a few beats to take in this news, and it surprised me. That Jamie had loved Rae had been established.But how did that affect Arthur?
I asked, “Arthur. How does that affect you? Did you think Jamie would leave the house to you?”
“Hold on, Sergeant. Garbage truck. Okay. I’m here. I was just surprised, you know? That he didn’t want it sold. Money for his sons. Or turn it into a school or a soccer camp.”
“Is Rae at the house now?”
“No. She’s back in Malibu. She’ll be coming next week to look around. I’m just letting you know in case this changes anything.”
“I wonder if Christophe knows. He didn’t tell me.”
“And I haven’t spoken with Ms. Rae. It’s all so sudden. Call if you want to talk about this,” he said.
“Arthur, you sound worried. Why?”
“Ahh. So many questions. No answers.”
“Welcome to my world, Arthur.”
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