Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [64]
Judith was confused. “Why were they called in if Lorenzo wasn’t going to jump?”
“Because he was going to throw Oscar out the window after the copter got there.” Joe sounded weary. “Hey, I really have to get some sleep. I can’t be sick for the trial when it starts Monday. How come you haven’t left yet?”
“Personnel problems,” Judith said blithely. “Don’t worry, Renie and I are fine. We just had a nice dinner with some new friends. Take care of yourself. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
“If I’m still alive,” Joe said.
Judith liked his chances better than those of some other people she could name.
Dixie Beales had been poisoned. Dr. Selig had passed on the medical examiner’s findings to Biff McDougal around nine o’clock that evening. The exact type of poison had not yet been determined.
“Did it happen at lunch?” Judith asked Rick as they sat in Farallon’s bar having after-dinner drinks.
“Dixie didn’t eat much,” Rick said. “She had drinks instead. We’ll know more details in the morning.”
Rhoda placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “We must go to Grandviews and find out who Dixie lunched with. ‘An attractive young man’ is a rather vague description. It needn’t even be anyone we know.”
Rick turned to Judith. “Dominic was the server?”
Judith nodded. “That’s what Amalie told us.”
Rick sighed. “Dominic is over seventy. He’s an institution among San Francisco waiters. He’s amazing, but has the temperament of a prima donna assoluta. I believe Dominic started out at the age of seventeen at either Ernie’s or the Blue Fox. To him, ‘young’ might mean anybody under sixty.”
Rhoda pressed Rick’s arm more firmly. “You forgot to mention that he’s half blind. Dominic is far too vain to wear glasses, and unable to use contact lenses.”
“But his hearing is adequate,” Rick pointed out. “We’ll breakfast there tomorrow, my darling.”
Judith regarded the St. Georges with awe. “Is there anyone in San Francisco you don’t know?”
Rick and Rhoda exchanged bemused glances. “Probably not,” Rhoda said. “At least not anyone we ought to know. My dear husband is particularly democratic. He knows all sorts of people.” Her meaning was quite clear to Judith.
Renie failed to suppress a yawn. “I’m beat,” she admitted. “We should settle the bill.”
Rick smiled. “It was settled long ago.”
The cousins thanked their hosts. But Judith didn’t stir from her chair. “It does begin to sound like a vendetta, doesn’t it?”
Rick maintained his customary urbane manner. But Rhoda frowned. “It does, I suppose.” She again locked glances with her husband. “It’s a bit unsettling, really. After all, darling, I’m on the board. I could be next.”
The cousins woke up to sunshine Saturday morning. Standing by the window, Judith thought the bright day could be deceptive. The tall glass-and-steel buildings that shone so brightly didn’t necessarily mean it was warm outside. There could be wind. There usually was in San Francisco, whipping off from the bay, swirling up and around and down the many hills.
Renie was in an uncharacteristically good mood, even though it was not quite nine o’clock.
“What’s with you?” Judith asked as her cousin perused the room-service menu.
“I feel so much better since I talked to Bill last night and found out about Oscar,” Renie explained.
Judith sat down on her own bed opposite Renie. “Look at me,” she commanded.
Puzzled, Renie complied. “Do I look funny?”
“No funnier than you usually do in the morning.” But Judith was serious as she studied her cousin’s face. That was the problem—Renie was also serious. There was no indication that she was fantasizing. Oscar was a genuine part of the Jones family. Judith knew that Bill and Renie’s three children—and now their spouses—all treated Oscar as if he were a real being. Indeed, Judith recalled to her dismay, at least once when visiting the Jones household, she’d almost sat on the stuffed ape—and—without thinking—had apologized to him for the near miss.
“Yes,” Judith said grudgingly, “I’m glad