Let Me Call You Sweetheart (22 page)

She had brought a yellow pad on which she had written a series of questions, leaving room under each to make notes of their answers. Briefly she told them everything that had impelled her to make this second visit: Dolly Bowles' story about the presence of the Mercedes the night Suzanne died; the fact that Suzanne had been extremely plain growing up; Dr. Smith's bizarre re-creation of her face when operating on current patients; Smith's attraction to Barbara Tompkins; the fact that Jimmy Weeks' name had come up in the investigation; and, finally, the threat to Robin.
Kerry felt that it was a credit to the three of them that after their initial shock over hearing the disclosures, they did not waste time reacting among themselves. Beth Taylor reached for Skip's hand as she asked, "What can we do now?"
"First, let's clear the air by saying I now have grave doubts whether Skip is guilty, and if we uncover the kinds of things I expect to find, I'll do my best to help Geoff get the verdict reversed. This is how I see it," Kerry told them. "A week ago, Skip, you surmised after we talked, that I didn't believe you. That really isn't accurate. What I felt, and what I thought, was that there was nothing I had heard that couldn't be interpreted in two ways--for you or against you. Certainly there was nothing I heard that would provide grounds for a new appeal. Isn't that right, Geoff?"
Geoff nodded.
"Dr. Smith's testimony is the main reason that you were convicted, Skip. The one great hope is to discredit that testimony. And the only way I can see to do that is to back him into a corner by exposing some of his lies and confronting him with them."
She did not wait for any of them to speak. "I already have the answer to the first question I intended to ask--Suzanne never told you that she'd had plastic surgery. And incidentally, let's cut the formalities. My name is Kerry."
For the remaining hour and fifteen minutes of the visit she fired questions at them. "First of all, Skip, did Suzanne ever mention Jimmy Weeks?"
"Only casually," he said. "I knew he was a member of the club and that she sometimes played in a foursome with him. She used to brag about her golf scores all the time. But when she knew I was getting suspicious that she was involved with someone, she began to mention only the names of the women she played with."
"Isn't Weeks the man on trial for income tax evasion?" Deidre Reardon asked.
Kerry nodded.
"That's incredible. I thought it was terrible that the government is harassing him. Last year I was a volunteer on the cancer drive, and he let us hold it on the grounds of his estate in Peapack. He underwrote the whole thing and then made a huge donation. And you are saying that he was involved with Suzanne and that he's threatening your little girl!"
"Jimmy Weeks has made sure his public image as basic good guy has been carefully nurtured," Kerry told her. "You're not the only one who thinks he's a victim of government harassment. But trust me--nothing could be further from the truth." She turned to Skip. "I want you to describe the jewelry that you believe Suzanne had received from another man."
"One piece was a gold bracelet with zodiac figures engraved in silver, except for the Capricorn symbol. That was the centerpiece, and all encrusted with diamonds. Suzanne was a Capricorn. It was obviously a very expensive piece. When I asked about it, she told me her father had given it to her. The next time I saw him, I thanked him for his generosity to her, and, just as I expected, he didn't know what I was talking about." "That's the kind of item we might be able to trace. We can put out a flyer to jewelers in New Jersey and Manhattan for openers," Kerry said. "It's surprising how many of them can either identify a piece they've sold years before, or recognize someone's style when it's a one-of-a-kind design."
Skip told her about an emerald-and-diamond ring that looked like a wedding band. The diamonds alternated with the emeralds and were set in a delicate pink-gold band.
"Another one she claimed her father gave her?"
"Yes. Her story was that he was making up for the years he hadn't given her anything. She said that some of the pieces were family jewelry from his mother. That was easier to believe. She also had a flower-shaped pin that was obviously very old."
"I remember that one," Deidre Reardon said. "It had a smaller bud-shaped pin attached to it by a silver chain. I still have a picture I cut out of one of the local papers showing Suzanne wearing it at some sort of fund-raiser. Another heirloom-type piece was the diamond bracelet Suzanne was wearing when she died, Skip."
"Where was Suzanne's jewelry that night?" Kerry asked.
"Except for what she was wearing, in her jewelry case on top of her dressing table," Skip said. "She was supposed to put it in the lockbox in her dressing room, but she usually didn't bother."
"Skip, according to your testimony at the trial several items were missing from your bedroom that night."
"There were two things missing that I'm positive of. One was the flower pin. The problem is that I can't swear it was in the jewelry box that day. But I can swear that a miniature frame that was on the night table was gone."
"Describe it to me," Kerry said.
"Let me, Skip," Deidre Reardon interrupted. "You see, Kerry, that little frame was exquisite. It was reputed to have been made by an assistant to the jeweler Faberg‚. My husband was in the army of occupation after the war and bought it in Germany. It was a blue enamel oval with a gold border that was encrusted with pearls. It was my wedding present to Skip and Suzanne."
"Suzanne put a picture of herself in it," Skip explained.
Kerry saw the guard at the door look at the wall clock. "We've only got a few minutes," she said hurriedly. "When did you last see that frame, Skip?"
"It was there that last morning when I got dressed. I remember particularly, because I looked at it when I was changing the stuff in my pockets to the suit I'd just put on. That night, when the detectives told me they were taking me in for questioning, one of them came up to the bedroom with me while I got a sweater. The frame was gone."
"If Suzanne was involved with someone else, is it possible she gave that picture of herself to someone that day?"
"No. It was one of her best pictures, and she liked looking at it. And I don't think even she would have had the guts to give my mother's wedding present away."
"And it never showed up?" Kerry asked.
"Never. But when I tried to say it might have been stolen, the prosecutor argued that if a thief had been there, all that jewelry would have been gone."
The bell signaled the end of visiting hours. This time when Skip got up, he put one arm around his mother, the other around Beth, and drew them to him. Over their heads, he looked at Kerry and Geoff. His smile made him seem ten years younger. "Kerry, you find a way to get me out of this place and I'll build a house for you that you'll never want to leave for the rest of your life." Then he suddenly laughed. "My God," he said, "In this place, I can't believe I said that."
...
Across the room, convict Will Toth was sitting with his girlfriend, but he gave most of his attention to the group with Skip Reardon. He had seen Skip's mother, the lawyer and the girlfriend here any number of times. Then last week he had recognized Kerry McGrath when she visited Skip. He would know her anywhere--McGrath was the reason he would spend the next fifteen years in this hellhole. She had been the prosecutor at his trial. It was clear that today she was being very cozy with Reardon; he had noticed that she spent the whole time writing down what he was telling her.
Will and his girlfriend stood up when the signal came that visiting hours were over. As he kissed her good-bye, he whispered, "Call your brother as soon as you get home and tell him to pass the word that McGrath was down here again today and taking lots and lots of notes."
Si Morgan, senior FBI agent in charge of investigating the Hamilton theft, was in his office at Quantico on Saturday afternoon, going over computer printouts concerning that case and the others believed to be related.
They had asked the Hamiltons, along with burglary victims in similar cases, to furnish names of all guests who attended any gathering or party at their homes during the several months before they were victimized. The computer had created a master file and then a separate list of the names that appeared frequently.
The trouble, Si thought, is that so many of these people travel in the same circles that it's not uncommon to see certain people included regularly, especially at the big functions.
Nevertheless there were about a dozen names that turned up consistently. Si studied that alphabetized list.
The first one was Arnott, Jason.
Nothing there, Si thought. Arnott had been quietly investigated a couple of years ago and passed as clean. He had a healthy stock portfolio, and his personal accounts didn't show the sudden infusions of cash associated with burglary. His interest income was also consistent with his lifestyle. His income tax statement accurately reflected his stock market transactions. He was well respected as an art and antiques expert. He entertained frequently and was well liked.
If there was a red flag in his profile, it was that Arnott was perhaps a little too perfect. That and the fact that his in- depth knowledge of antiques and fine art was consistent with the selective first-rate-only approach the thief took to the victims' possessions. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to run a check on him again if nothing else shows up, Si thought. But he was much more interested in another name on the frequent list, Sheldon Landi, a man who had his own public relations firm.
Landi certainly seems to rub shoulders with the beautiful people, Si mused. He doesn't make much money, yet he lives high. Landi also fit the general profile of the man the computer told them to look for: middle-aged; unmarried; college educated; self- employed.
They had sent out six hundred flyers with the security-camera photo to the names culled from the guest lists. So far they had received thirty tips. One of them came from a woman who had phoned to say she thought the culprit might be her ex-husband. "He robbed me blind the whole time we were married and lied his way into a big settlement when we were divorced, and he has that kind of pointy chin I see in the picture," she'd explained eagerly. "I'd check on him if I were you."
Now, as he leaned back in his desk chair, Si thought about that call and smiled. The ex-husband the woman was talking about was a United States senator.
... Sunday, November 5th
Jonathan and Grace Hoover were expecting Kerry and Robin round one o'clock. They both believed that a leisurely Sunday afternoon meal was a civilized and restful custom.
Unfortunately, the brightness of Saturday had not lasted. Sunday had dawned gray and chilly, but by noon the house was pleasantly filled with the succulent aroma of roasting lamb. The fire was blazing in their favorite room, the library, and they were contentedly settled there as they awaited their guests.
Grace was absorbed in the Times crossword puzzle, and Jonathan was deep in the paper's "Arts and Leisure" section. He looked up when he heard Grace murmur in annoyance and saw that the pen had slipped from her fingers onto the carpet. He watched her laboriously begin the process of bending over to retrieve it.
"Grace," he said reprovingly, as he sprang up to get it for her.
She sighed as she accepted the pen from him. "Honestly, Jonathan, what would I ever do without you?"
"You'll never have to try, dear. And may I say that the sentiment is mutual."
For a moment she held his hand to her face. "I know it is, dear. And believe me, it is one of the things that gives me the strength to carry on."
...
On the way over to the Hoovers', Kerry and Robin talked about the previous evening. "It was much more fun staying at the Dorsos' house for dinner than going to a restaurant," Robin exulted. "Mom,! like them."
"I do too," Kerry admitted without reluctance.
"Mrs. Dorso told me that it isn't that hard to be a good cook."
"I agree. I'm afraid I let you down."
"Oh, Mom." Robin's tone was reproachful. She folded her arms and stared straight ahead at the narrowing road that indicated they were approaching Riverdale. "You make good pasta," she said defensively.
"I do, but that's about it."
Robin changed the subject. "Mom, Geoff's mother thinks he likes you. So do I. We talked about it." "You what?"
"Mrs. Dorso said that Geoff never, ever brings a date home. She told me you're the first since his prom days. She said that was because his little sisters used to play tricks on his dates and that now he's gun shy."
"Probably," Kerry said offhandedly. She turned her mind from the realization that coming back from the prison, she had been so weary that she had closed her eyes for just a minute awakened later, resting against Geoff's shoulder. And that it had felt so natural, so right.
...
The visit with Grace and Jonathan Hoover was, as expected, thoroughly agreeable. Kerry did know that at some point would get around to discussing the Reardon case, but it wouldn't be before coffee was served. That was when Robin was free to leave the table to read or try one of the new computer games Jonathan always had waiting for her.
As they ate, Jonathan entertained them with talk about the legislative sessions and the budget the governor was trying to get through. "You see, Robin," he explained, "politics is like a football game. The governor is the coach who sends in the plays, and the leaders of his party in the senate and the assembly are the quarterbacks."
"That's you, isn't it?" Robin interrupted.
"In the senate, yes, I guess you could call me that," Jonathan agreed. "The rest of our team protects whoever is carrying the ball."
"And the others?"
"Those from the other team do their damnedest to break up the game."
"Jonathan," Grace said quietly.
"Sorry, my dear. But there have been more attempts at pork- barreling this week than I've seen in many years."
"What's that?" Robin asked.
"Pork-barreling is an ancient but not necessarily honorable custom wherein legislators add unnecessary expenses to the budget in order to win favor with the voters in their district. Some people carry it to a fine art."
Kerry smiled. "Robin, I hope you realize how lucky you are to be learning the workings of government from someone like Uncle Jonathan."
"All very selfish," Jonathan assured them. "By the time Kerry is sworn in for the Supreme Court in Washington, we'll be getting Robin elected to the legislature and have her on her way too."