Partners In Crime (10 page)

"What?" T.S. demanded. "Why are you
nodding?" It was really quite annoying, this feeling of always
being one step behind her.

"Nothing, really dear. Don't get excited."
She patted his knee. "But I do think it's time to compare your
party list with the late check-out list."

They moved to the dining room table. Brenda
lay sprawled on the smooth glass surface. Auntie Lil pulled out the
napkin purloined from Harvey's and waved it at the cat in a futile
attempt to shoo her away. When Brenda only lifted her head and
glared, Auntie Lil resorted to smacking the beast's bottom with her
handbag. This time, Brenda gave a light growl and sullenly leapt
from the table with a heavy thump.

"Honestly, Theodore. Can't you train
them?"

"No," he said, pulling out a chair. "I
can't." He sat at the table and watched her remove her pen and
notebook from her bag. "By the way, Auntie Lil," he pointed out,
"you stole that napkin from Harvey's."

"Did I?" She held it in her hand and stared
at it vaguely. "Oh, dear. Not again. I thought it was my
handkerchief." Sighing, she blew her nose on it daintily and stowed
it carefully away in her bag. "Now, where are those lists?"

He smoothed the two lists on the table
between them and they peered at the names together for several
silent moments. Finally, T.S. turned his head and asked: "What are
we looking for anyway?"

Auntie Lil pulled a blank pad toward her.
"That list is the list of employees who checked out late,
right?"

"Correct. Anyone who leaves past 6:00 P.M.
must check out." He ran his eye down the photocopied list.

"Starting at the top, I want you to tell me
if that person had been invited to your party. If not, there was
another reason they left late and we need to verify that. If they
were at the party, you'll just have to search your gin-soaked brain
to try and remember if they signed out at the correct time."

"Scotch," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Scotch-soaked brain."

"Of course. How careless of me." She
numbered the pad evenly down one side. "Then we simply look for
something that doesn't fit."

"Like what?"

"Like someone who came to your party and
stayed late but never signed out. Or someone not invited to your
party who stayed late to work for the first time ever. Or a name we
don't recognize. Remember, the party ended by 8:00, so pay special
attention to anyone staying later than 8:00 without a good
excuse."

"It will still take us forever," T.S.
protested.

"Not really," Auntie Lil pointed out.
"When's the last time you saw Robert Cheswick alive?"

He thought for a moment. "Around 7:30. I
remember because we finished the bottle of Dewar's at 7:15 and
Jimmy said it was the fastest time ever. Thanks to Cheswick, of
course. He left soon after, saying he had to catch up with some
work at his desk. Not that I believed he was capable of work at
that point, of course."

“
Then, for our purposes, we
can eliminate anyone leaving before 7:30." Auntie Lil drew a heavy
line through over half of the list.

"What about the people I know personally?"
T.S. asked. "I think we could safely eliminate some of them."

Auntie Lil peered at him over the top of her
glasses and shook her head sadly, as if disappointed with her
favorite pupil. "My dear Theodore. Trust no one. I'm willing to
trust you, but even that is a stretch, you know."

He started to protest but noticed the
twinkle in her eye and calmed down.

"Now let's get started. Everyone after
7:30." She drew several columns in across the empty page. "This is
just a preliminary list, of course. Once the time of death has been
officially fixed, we may be able to narrow it further."

"If the guards are telling the truth about
everyone checking out," T.S. added.

"If the guards are telling the truth. Which
reminds me—" Auntie Lil made several notations on the pad. "Who
were the guards on duty that night?"

He told her and she wrote down their names,
then looked up and smiled thinly, her expression suspiciously like
Brenda's. "They're our first two suspects."

I wouldn't want to cross
her,
he thought—and not for the first
time.

It took nearly an hour to cross-check the
two lists and compare the comings and goings of employees with what
memory T.S. could muster. By the time they were through, they had a
list of over a dozen names with comments and notations beside each.
T.S. stifled a yawn and Eddie, lying at his feet, stirred and
stretched in sympathy.

"Hang in there, Theodore. We're on the home
stretch. I want you to tell me what you know about each of these
people and I'll note it on their sheets."

It took another twenty minutes for this
step, but T.S. had to admit that it was most satisfying to have a
neat pile of suspects when they were through.

Auntie Lil tapped a finger on the pile. "The
murderer may well be among this crowd."

He glanced over their names and sighed. A
handful of partners, the firm's biggest client and some of its most
loyal employees. Including several of his favorites. T.S. sighed
again and stared at the notebook.

"What is it, dear?" Auntie Lil asked,
patting his hand tenderly.

"It just occurred to me that if the killer
is on this list, chances are good that I helped to hire whoever
murdered Robert Cheswick."

"It certainly can't be construed as your
fault."

"No, but I can't help feeling
responsible."

"Well, then, Theodore," Auntie Lil said
quietly, "make up for it." She sat up straight and looked him right
in the eye. "Get me in there tomorrow and help me find whoever
murdered Robert Cheswick."

"Or die trying?"

"Knock on wood when you say that," she
ordered, reaching out to rap him smartly on the head.

T.S. was relieved to see that only a
Sterling & Sterling security guard was posted in front of the
Partners' Room on Saturday morning.

"Good morning, Frank," T.S. greeted him
heartily. "This is my Auntie Lil."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." The guard
touched his hat in salute.

"Are you the Frank who was on duty the night
Mr. Cheswick was killed?" Auntie Lil inquired with a breathless
manner as if it were all too exciting for her.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am, though I didn't see a
thing. We don't come through here at night on our regular rounds if
the Main Floor doors check out." He shrugged ruefully. "The most
excitement I got was spelling Timothy out in the lobby and being
questioned by the lieutenant about it."

"Working weekends?" T.S. asked him.

"Yes, sir," the guard replied. "Need the
overtime. Putting two through college, you know."

T.S. nodded in sympathy. "Yes, of course.
Frank, Jr. and Tiffany, if I recall."

"That's right, sir. Frank, Jr. is going to
be a lawyer."

T.S. resisted the temptation to express his
condolences. "I'm surprised there's no police guard posted," he
said instead.

"They felt it unnecessary, sir. This being
the weekend and me willing to do duty." Frank's stance had relaxed
and he appeared unaware of Auntie Lil's not very subtle attempts to
peer around him into the room.

"I hear the lieutenant's a bit gruff," T.S.
remarked.

"Yep. He's a real piece of work," Frank
agreed. "Seemed damned and determined we'd let someone slip past."
He nodded toward Auntie Lil. "Excuse my language, ma'am."

"Well, you aren't the only one who got a
hard time." T.S. stepped closer to the man and spoke quietly, as if
he didn't want to upset Auntie Lil with the gory details. "It was
something to see how he operated. I was there, of course, during
the investigation. Mr. Hale insisted. I saw the scene, the body and
everything. Had to spend all afternoon answering questions for the
police."

Frank nodded, impressed. "I always found
police work quite interesting, sir," he said. "Lots of the other
guards have experience on the force and I like to hear them
talk."

Auntie Lil looked ready to stage an end run
around Frank. T.S. made his move while there was still time. "You
don't mind if my Auntie Lil takes a peek at the room, do you?" He
gave the guard a wink. "It's the most exciting thing that's
happened to her in a couple of years."

The guard gazed at Auntie Lil fondly. "Of
course not, Mr. Hubbert, sir. Just don't touch anything, ma'am." He
spoke to Auntie Lil carefully and slowly as if she were a child.
Fortunately, he turned back to T.S. as Auntie Lil slipped in the
room, thus missing her expression at being treated in such a
manner. T.S. was also grateful the guard had not wagged a finger at
her—Auntie Lil had looked like she wanted to bite him.

"What were they doing yesterday, sir?" Frank
asked, his security lapse already forgotten.

T.S. obliged him in great detail, unsure of
how long Auntie Lil wanted to have the room to herself. He
elaborated on the number of lab personnel and how they had both a
videotape and still camera photographer. He spoke of the scraping
and sampling that went on, the positioning of the body. He even
added a few details such as the way the body had jumped and swayed
when someone touched the chair. Frank seemed particularly gratified
at that. But T.S. was careful to omit mention of the dead man's
unzipped trousers and the dead flowers left behind.

"You were in the lobby that night?" T.S.
said after running out of juicy details.

"Just for about half an hour or so," Frank
admitted. "Timothy takes a break about 10:00 and I come in from my
rounds on the night floors to spell him. He's dedicated, that man.
Won't even go to the bathroom unless I happen by to sit in for him.
So I like to give him plenty of time."

"See anything unusual?"

"No, sir. Couple of people working late.
Nothing unusual there. The night shift nipping out to dinner,
maybe. Some of them smelled like they were on liquid diets, if you
know what I mean. I made everyone sign in and out."

"So, no one you failed to recognize?"

Frank shook his head. "Afraid not. They were
all familiar faces. I may not know their names, but I sure know
their faces."

"What about on your rounds? Anything
unusual?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Of course,
there's a lot of floors for me to cover alone," he added almost
apologetically.

"I quite understand," T.S. assured him. "I
remember when we cut back the night security staff several years
ago."

T.S. had just finished explaining his role
in unofficially aiding the investigation as a personal favor to
Edgar Hale when Auntie Lil strolled casually out of the Partners'
Room. She laid a gloved hand on Frank's arm.

"Thank you, Frank," she said and gave a
near-girlish squeal. "That was very exciting."

"You're most welcome, ma'am." This time the
guard nearly bowed as he touched his hat.

"Theodore," she turned her wide eyes on him.
"All this excitement is getting to me. Do you think I could rest in
your office awhile?"

"Of course." He took her arm helpfully and
waved goodbye to the guard. "I'll fill you in later, Frank. Thanks
for your time."

Frank nodded and stared after them as they
strolled to the main elevator.

She was hissing mad. "The most exciting
thing in years? Really, Theodore. How patronizing."

"You wanted to see the scene, didn't you?"
he hissed back. "Besides, you interrupted me just as I was getting
to the good part." Their footsteps echoed loudly through the
cavernous Main Floor.

"It was most informative," she admitted
grumpily once they were alone on the elevator.

"What did you find?"

"It was what I didn't find. His desk was
bare," she said.

"Perhaps the police cleared everything away.
Put it all in bags," T.S. suggested.

"No." Auntie Lil shook her head. "I don't
mean literally. He had the usual. A brass pen holder, a small
calendar. A stapler. Some paper clips in a silver dish. But he
hadn't a single family photo or memento."

T.S. thought carefully. "You're probably
right. He wasn't a sentimental man. Despite his lovely wife."

"It's even more than that," she insisted.
"The other partners all have personal effects on their desks. A
brass replica of a sailboat. Gold trains. Miniature golf clubs.
Graduation photos of their children. And nearly all of them have
the same unusual paperweight, a heavy oversized sterling silver
spoon on a round base with their initials carved on the handle. But
Cheswick didn't have one. In fact, he had nothing. Not one single
personal item. Do you know what that proves?"

"No, I don't," T.S. admitted, annoyed that
he had to. "What does that prove?"

"He was a man who had totally shut off his
emotions. On purpose. As if he were trying to block something
out."

T.S. was dubious. "Perhaps."

"Not perhaps. Definitely. There was a
conscious effort not to see the world around him, other than the
bank. He didn't want to admit his private life existed. Nothing
must show. I find that peculiar, don't you?"

He considered the question. "I suppose I
find it sad," he finally answered.

"And another thing." Auntie Lil placed one
white-gloved hand on her chin and mused. "I could not find a single
file in his drawer marked 'Correspondence' or 'Personal
Correspondence' or 'Personal' or anything like that."

"You went in his drawers?" T.S. asked
faintly.

"Oh, don't worry, Theodore—I wore my
gloves."

"That wasn't my concern."

"Well, I didn't disturb a thing." The doors
opened and she stepped briskly through, then waited for T.S. to
lead the way. "I must ask Anne Marie tomorrow about that
paperweight and those files."