Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [70]
Caroline’s plain features had remained unchanged, though her voice conveyed a hint of disbelief. “You didn’t scream when you saw the shoes? You didn’t run for help?”
Judith avoided looking at Renie. For once, it was her cousin’s problem to talk her way out of a mess.
“There wasn’t time,” Renie replied.
“So,” Caroline persisted, “you just waited in here for your cousin?” She shot Judith a swift, sidelong look.
“I told you, my cousin showed up almost immediately,” Renie said.
Caroline’s sharp blue eyes now fixed on Judith. “Is that right?”
“Yes. We’re probably still in a state of shock.” Judith could hardly admit that after all their misadventures, even “surprise” would have been too strong a word.
“Where had you been while your cousin was in here?”
“Looking for her.” Judith waited a beat, but Caroline said nothing. “Before that, I was over in suits and dresses.” She wasn’t about to confess that she’d been with Anemone Giddon. Once Émile was officially identified, Caroline might pick up on the link with the dead man. And with Judith.
The male security employee returned, accompanied by a slightly older man who exuded quiet authority.
“I understand,” the new arrival said in a sympathetic voice, “that you two ladies have made a very disagreeable discovery.” He put out a hand. “I’m Daniel Goldfarb, the store manager. Would you please join me in my office? You’ll be much more comfortable there and we can get you some water or whatever you’d like. I can’t apologize enough for this unfortunate incident.”
Judith was torn. Sitting around Daniel Goldfarb’s office sipping Perrier was only a notch better than twiddling her thumbs at the police station. She needed answers, not comfort. But she knew there’d be official hoops to jump through. Renie would have to give the police her story.
Apparently Renie was thinking along the same lines. “What I’d like is to go back to our hotel and lie down,” she declared, making herself tremble a bit. “I’m exhausted. I wouldn’t want to collapse on your premises. You already have one dead body.” She picked up her big purse and slung it over her shoulder. “You know where to reach us. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Daniel looked perplexed. Caroline showed no emotion, but her male counterpart was scowling.
“You have to wait until the police arrive,” he said. “I’m sorry, but we can’t let you leave.”
“Yes, you can,” Renie asserted, reaching in her purse and taking out her wallet. “You have no legal grounds to keep us here. If you want to argue the point, here’s my lawyer’s name and number.” She handed a business card to the security man and stomped out of the dressing room.
“She hasn’t been well,” Judith murmured, squeezing her way past the trio. “I must go take care of her.”
Two uniformed officers were going up the escalator as Judith and Renie were going down. A squad car pulled up as the cousins exited the store. They kept moving without a backward glance.
“Do you think they’ll actually call Bub?” Judith asked as they reached the main floor.
“Of course not,” Renie said, briskly walking past handbags and leather goods. “I don’t carry Bub’s cards with me. The one I gave them was for Jerry, the window cleaner.”
Judith realized that her cousin was leading them out of a different entrance from the one where they’d entered the store. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around at the immediate unfamiliar sights.
“We need a drink,” Renie said after they’d walked half a block. “And lunch. Now we’re back on Stockton.”
“So why are we going uphill?”
Renie pointed straight ahead. “Do you want the cops following us back to the St. Francis right now? The Ritz-Carlton’s close by. I’d like to get as far away from the scene of the latest crime as possible.”
“You’re in the wrong place for it,” Judith said, puffing a bit and pointing to a street sign on their left. “See that?”
Renie grinned. “Oh, yes. I’ve seen that sign before. Dashiell Hammett lived in that building during the twenties. That part of Monroe Street’s named in his honor. I guess he lived in a lot of other