Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [70]
“Physical abuse?” Sylvia asked. “Sexual?”
“I don’t know about sexual,” she replied, “but he was physically abusive. Psychologically, too. It’s a miracle she turned out the way she did. That’s why she moved out of her home and in with us
“Us?”
“Me. I took her in and provided a safe and secure home, a nurturing one in which she could focus on her talent and future in opera, voice and acting lessons, fitness training, anything she would need when she launched her professional career
Willie stood, stretched, and strolled around the large room. “Don’t mind me. I’ve got a bad back that acts up when I sit too long.” “Bad backs,” Zöe said, exhaling as though to expel the thought.
“Nothing worse. I’ve suffered with one for years. Thank God for my chiropractor, Dr. Tim. I see him almost daily when I’m in Toronto
The hour passed quickly, and was interrupted by Melincamp’s arrival.
“Stay away long enough?” he asked.
“We’re just about finished,” Sylvia said.
“And now I suppose you want me to leave,” Zöe said.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Sylvia replied.
She gathered her purse and was about to leave when Willie, who’d just come out of the bathroom, said, “How did you pay for your dinner at that Thai place? You use a credit card?”
“I think I did
“Got the receipt?”
She rummaged through her bag, found it, and handed it to him.
“Satisfied?” she said, annoyed.
“Thanks,” he said. “Anybody with you at the hotel after you came back from dinner?”
“No. I exercised here in the room, watched part of a dreadful movie, and—oh, I’m sure you want the name of the movie. I have no idea what it was. You can check the TV listings in the paper
She left, less sanguine than she’d been during the interview.
They went over the same ground with Melincamp.
He’d met with an administrator from the Domingo-Cafritz Young Artist Program on the day of Charise’s murder, and provided a name to the detectives. That night he’d had dinner at Tosca.
“Tosca?” Willie said. “That’s the opera
Melincamp laughed. “Yes, I know,” he said. “I’d not been there before and thought I had to try it, considering the name. The chef’s daughter, I was told, is named Tosca. I just hope she doesn’t meet the same fate as Madame Tosca in the opera
A receipt? “No, I paid cash.” Unusual to be on business and not document a meal with a credit card. “I try to pay cash whenever I can.” No receipt for your files? “I don’t remember whether I asked for one or not.” Anyone likely to remember you there? “Absolutely. I engaged in conversation with a few members of the staff.” The rest of the evening? A sheepish grin. “I went to a topless bar—please don’t tell Zöe, she wouldn’t understand. I find such places interesting. The sort of people who frequent them are fascinating
“I know what you mean,” Willie said. “And I always buy Playboy for the articles
Sylvia smiled at the ironic comment as she said, “Mr. Melincamp, about Charise Lee. What sort of young woman was she? Did you know her friends and boyfriends? Was Mr. Warren a lover?”
Melincamp turned to Willie, who stood by a window. “I believe I already told you, Detective, that Chris and Charise were far too busy pursuing their careers to become romantically involved
Portelain nodded. “Yeah, he told me that, Sylvia
“What about her family life?”
Melincamp raised his eyebrows. “Not a very wholesome one, I’m afraid. It got so bad that we had Charise move in with us
“You and Ms. Baltsa?”
“Well, she actually moved in with Zöe
“I see. What was wrong with her family life?”
The agent painted a picture that was basically in tune with what his partner had told them. But he added, “Frankly, I never really believed that Charise’s father abused her. I mean, he’s an old Jewish guy with old-world ideas and values. Always citing the Holocaust. At least that’s what Charise said. I think he tried