“I don't know. I'd have to look.”
“I've already looked.”
“Maybe I hung something on top of it. Maybe it slipped behind a chair.”
I glanced around. “Somehow I don't see you tossing things.
Or letting your cashmere sweaters slip onto the floor.”
“Not usually. But this isn't usually.”
“So where's the sweater?”
She met my eyes. “What difference does it make?”
“What difference? Because Ralph Benning was murdered. Because you had a damn good reason to want him dead. Because we all fell asleep and you could have left the house. Because Elaine Ekstein will be charged with his murder. And because.…”
“Elaine?”
“That sweater is not in this house. It is nowhere. Ditto the leggings.”
“Elaine couldn't murder anyone.”
“True.”
“How could she be charged?”
“Easy. The police think she could have done it.”
“But that's silly. Elaine? What an idea.”
“Where's the sweater, Lindsay.”
She raised her elegant chin. “I don't know where it is.”
“Did you leave the house last night?”
“Of course not.”
I spotted the little flash of anger behind her words. Interesting. Anger was a change from Lindsay's usual grace and fragility. Maybe I'd been treated to a glimpse of the real person. “Then where's your sweater?”
Merv loomed into the room and stood between Lindsay and me. “She's already told you she doesn't know.”
“Thank you, but I'm not finished here.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Goddam it, Merv, let go of my arm.”
I found myself staring at the closed door of Lindsay's bedroom. Of course, it takes more than that to stop one of the MacPhee girls. I turned the handle. Locked. I rattled the handle. Nothing.
I knocked on the door. Still nothing. I poised to give it a nice solid kick when I felt Alvin's hot breath.
“I can't believe even you would do this, Camilla.” Reproach oozed out of his pores.
“Do you believe Elaine will spend the night in the slammer?”
“No, she won't. And even if she did, Elaine's tough as old rope. There's no reason for you to terrorize Lindsay.”
“Terrorize? I'll terrorize you, you little twerp.”
Alvin managed a certain bony dignity. “You have to pull yourself together, Camilla. I can't allow you to upset Lindsay.”
While I sputtered “You? What do you mean you can't allow me?” I lost my advantage. Alvin insinuated himself between the door and me. The only way to knock would be to push him down the stairs first. I thought about it.
Unlike the others, Mrs. Parnell did not treat me like a pariah. She poured my cup of coffee and issued her stream of smoke away from my face, always a sign of affection on her part.
“Quite the discussion.”
“You heard it from down here?”
“I heard you.”
“Well, I had a legitimate question and I didn't get any kind of a legitimate answer.”
Mrs. Parnell issued one of her long wheezy chuckles that always tempt me to call 911. “So I gathered.”
“Maybe I lost it a bit.”
“Who doesn't get caught up in the heat of battle from time to time? And the question remains not only legitimate but delicate. We shall have to be most strategic in this matter.”
“But Alvin and Merv don't share your opinion.”
“Nevertheless,” Mrs. Parnell said. “Ain't love grand?
* * *
“I can't believe you didn't tell me you were protecting Lindsay Grace. I'm your buddy, Tiger. You could trust me with your life.”
I lounged at the table at Dunn's and watched P. J. fiddle with his fried eggs. Dunn's has an all-day breakfast, which was handy because P. J. was late, even by his standards. I could tell his mind was on the Benning story and how I might have information to improve it.
“You're a reporter. I wouldn't even trust you with your life. And don't bother pouting. It'll give you wrinkles.”
P. J. poked at the home fries. “Don't hold back on me. What's the dope on Elaine Ekstein? Cops slapped her into interrogation fast enough. Did she know this Benning?”
I didn't have the heart to tell him I wanted information from him. There was no plan to give him any.
“It's a mistake, P. J. They're grasping at straws.”
“Got a tip for you. Cops are confident she did it. They're closing the book on it.” He waited.
“That's crap and you know it. Elaine couldn't kill someone. Three officers staked out Lindsay's place. How could she or anyone else get out without them noticing? Incompetence? Or railroading? Your call.”
“Point taken.”
“Your turn to trust me. If you find out how Elaine was supposed to have slipped by them, let me know. Maybe she can make herself invisible at will.”
P. J. slipped from the booth, tossed a ten on the table and ran like hell for the door. “Will do.”
Well, that was one way to find out what happened to Benning. Wait and read it in the paper.
* * *
“We have no comment at this time.” I tried to push past a circus of journalists, mikes and cameras outside the Elgin Street Courthouse on the way to Elaine's bail hearing.
Elaine took a different approach. “I'd like to take this opportunity to say…”
I stuck myself in between her and the brace of microphones. “My client has no comment.”
I thought I saw P. J. Lynch well back in the crowd. Of course, unlike the guys with the television cameras, he could head on in and hear for himself. Mind you, that crossed the border between police reporter and court reporter, but maybe it was time for P. J. to make the switch and get the occasional night's sleep.
“Elaine! Did you do it?” An anonymous voice attached to a mike.
“No comment.”
“Elaine, do you have any words for battered women?”
“We have no comment.”
Elaine said, “Well, I certainly do.”
I stood up taller, the better to block her face from the flashes. “My client has no comment on that issue.” I turned to her and whispered, “You have no goddam comment. Now move your butt through the door on the double.”
“No comment,” I called back over my shoulder as we swung into the Courthouse.
* * *
We were all the way into Courtroom Number Five before I finished Elaine's short refresher on how to behave before the media and in the court. I pulled no punches.
The Superior Court judge had a crisp new perm and manicured short nails lacquered in a classic red. She also had a rep for not suffering fools gladly. I hoped to hell we weren't about to be fools. Although