Murder at the Library of Congress - Margaret Truman [73]
Widlitz’s determination to protect David Driscoll as the real source of the Reyes painting was fading fast.
“This Conrad, he’s the one who paid you for the work?”
“I haven’t been paid yet. I haven’t finished the work.”
“Did you find anything behind the painting?”
“No. There is nothing behind it.”
The art squad detective left the room and conferred with his partner while looking into the room through a one-way mirror. The homicide detective had taken up the questioning and was leaning over Widlitz, causing the older man to shrink into a ball in his chair.
“He’s not being straight with us,” the chief told his partner.
“I know. This Conrad works for somebody else. We’re being too nice to him.”
“We mention the security guard murder in Miami, maybe suggest he’s an accessory to murder?”
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Ten minutes later a frightened, panicked Abraham Widlitz told them his client was David Driscoll.
“The David Driscoll?”
“Yes.”
The detectives looked at each other.
“This Conrad works for him?”
“I don’t know. He delivers things for him. He delivered this painting.”
“He’s delivered other paintings to you?”
“Yes, a few. Murder? Please, I know nothing about murder. I want to speak to a lawyer.”
“That’s probably a good idea, Mr. Widlitz. Excuse us.”
They conferred outside the interrogation room with an assistant district attorney they’d called in.
“There’s nothing to hold him on,” the DA said.
“Possession of stolen property” was offered.
“You think he knew it was stolen?”
A shrug. “Let’s assume he did.”
“What’s to be gained?” asked the DA. “You think he has more information to offer?”
“Maybe not, but I’d just as soon not have him contacting Driscoll until we’ve been able to hash this out with Miami. Twenty-four hours?”
“All right, but no more than that. And no more questions until he has an attorney present.”
Chapter 29
Dr. Broadhurst was engaged in quiet contemplation. The question on his mind was whether to call an emergency meeting of the Joint Committee on the Library of Congress to discuss Paul and the Driscoll matter. His thoughts were disturbed by his secretary reminding him that someone from Public Affairs would bring a writer from American Heritage for an interview in fifteen minutes, and that a final draft of a speech Broadhurst was to give that night at American University was ready. She handed it to him.
“Thank you, Pamela. Have the writer come in as soon as they arrive.”
He read quickly through the draft, making a few minor changes. Fifteen minutes later a public affairs specialist arrived with her journalistic ward. The interview lasted a half hour. The moment they left, Broadhurst’s secretary handed him a message slip, explaining, “Public Affairs wonders whether there’s any possibility of you finding a few minutes to speak with Lucianne Huston?”
“I wanted to have a word with her anyway, but off the record. See if you can arrange that.”
Minutes later, his assistant returned. “Ms. Huston can’t promise not to use anything you say to her. She thinks this story is too important. ‘The American public has a right to know what goes on in the institutions it finances,’ she said.”
“Then tell her that I can’t talk to her right now.”
Annabel had received a call from Civilization’s editor, Rich Wilson, that morning before leaving home: “I’ll be in D.C. today, Annabel, flying down later this morning to meet with the good folks at Public Affairs. Thought we might catch up for a few minutes while I’m there.”
“Sounds good to me,” she’d said. “When will you be free?”
“Having lunch at one. How about twelve, twelve-thirty at their office?”
“I’ll swing by.”
She spent the morning in the manuscripts reading room poring over materials published in the early fifteen-hundreds that might shed light on the relationship between Columbus and his friend and sailing companion, Bartolomé de Las Casas. The exercise didn’t prove productive and she had the manuscripts returned to their vaults at noon.
She took the underground walkway from Madison to Jefferson and went to Public Affairs.
“Is Rich Wilson