Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [19]
He returned the CD to its slot in the cabinet, resumed his seat at the desk, and logged on to his computer. He spent the next fifteen minutes reviewing a variety of investment accounts, smiling at their increase in value since last looking at them two days ago. He exited that program, unlocked one of the desk drawers, and pulled out a small black notebook. He opened it and examined the most recent page, on which a number of dollar figures were noted. Then he read off a series of digits written on the book’s first page and fed them to the keyboard. Seconds later, another series of dollar amounts appeared on the screen. Nothing accompanied those figures, no account names, no addresses, no headings or other information. The final figure was larger than the preceding one, prompting another small smile. He noted that last dollar amount in the book, closed and locked it in the drawer, and returned the key to where it had been hidden beneath paper clips in a coffee mug.
He logged off the computer, extinguished the lights, and left the room, stopping in the kitchen to put his empty teacup in the dishwasher. He went upstairs, a satisfied grin wreathing his face as he slipped into bed, the four cats staking out positions at its foot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Readers of the Washington Post and viewers of TV news shows the following morning learned that the President’s poll numbers had dropped to their lowest point ever; that Iran had dispatched a team of diplomats to Iraq to help that country establish a fundamentalist government; that scientists had definitively linked the continuing increase in the number of hurricanes to global warming; and that a Canadian opera singer, enrolled in the Washington National Opera’s Domingo-Cafritz Young Artist Program, had been found dead in the Kennedy Center the previous night.
The front-page article in the Post reported that the corpse was that of Charise Lee, a twenty-eight-year-old female voice student from Toronto. Her body was found in a secluded area of the Kennedy Center and was being treated as a possible homicide. Her family had been notified and was en route to Washington from Toronto. No further details were available, according to a police spokesman. An investigation was under way.
The article was clearly written without a great deal of hard information to go on. A paragraph, lifted from a WNO press release, described the Young Artist Program. William Frazier, chairman of WNO’s board, who was reached at home, stated, “Naturally, all of us at the Washington National Opera are shocked and saddened by this terrible event. Ms. Lee was a young singer of extraordinary talent, whose star in opera was bright. Our hearts go out to her family
It was a little before seven in Mac and Annabel’s Watergate apartment. Sleep hadn’t come easily. Annabel had finally given up at four and tried to take her mind off the murder by going to the library and reading a book purported to be funny but wasn’t, at least not in her current mood. Mac joined her at five.
“Mr. Pawkins agreed to investigate on behalf of the company?” Annabel asked when he’d settled next to her on the couch. She knew the answer but was in need of confirmation, or starting the conversation.
“Right. And he doesn’t want to be paid. He says it’ll be his gift to the opera
“That’s so generous. What else did he say?”
“I don’t remember. He likes tossing out opera references, maybe to test me. I failed. I’m meeting him for breakfast
“Oh? Why?”
“He wants to bounce things off me
“I thought…”
“I don’t mind being a sounding board. It won’t go further than that
She sat back and closed her eyes.
“You’re in your thinking mode,” he said.
She came forward and faced him. “It had to be someone connected with the opera, Mac. That’s the only logical explanation
“Not necessarily
“How many people had access to the Opera House last night?”
“More than you realize. Lots of people