Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [79]
He called Annabel on her cell. “We have an interesting dinner on tap tonight,” he said.
“Sounds intriguing
“That’s why we’re doing it.” He filled her in on Josephson’s call.
“The Musinski murder? What does he have to do with that?”
“I don’t know, although my assumption is that it has to do with those missing Mozart musical scores. Allegedly missing
“Sure you want me to come along?”
“Yes
“You have a supers rehearsal tonight,” she said.
“I know. I’ll call Mr. Josephson and see if we can get together after it. It should be over by eight thirty or nine
“Most likely. Have to run. We’ll talk later. Oh, Mac…”
“Uh-huh?”
“Maybe you should call Ray Pawkins and tell him about it
“I considered that, Annie, but don’t think I will. Let’s find out what this is all about before bringing in Ray. Okay?”
“Whatever you say. Love you. Bye
Mac put aside the Josephson call as he went back to the pile of papers on his desk. At eleven, the phone rang.
“Hope I’m not disturbing you and the missus in something sensuous and pleasurable,” Pawkins said.
“If you were, I wouldn’t have answered the phone, Ray. What’s up?”
“First, I thought you looked splendid last night at the rehearsal
“I’m getting into my role, as the thespians say. You looked okay yourself. So did that lovely woman who was waiting for you
“Yes, very nice. I love the idea of there being two sexes, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mac said with a chuckle.
“Thurber’s view precisely. Free for lunch?”
“As a matter of fact, I am
“Good. I have a few things to report on the murder. I’m at Takoma Park now. It’s been an interesting morning
“Looking forward to hearing all about it,” Smith said. “Twelve thirty?”
“Sounds good. I’ll come to the Watergate
“I’ll make a reservation downstairs at Aquarelle
“Shame Jeffrey’s closed there. Must have broken the Bushes’ hearts when they were in D.C
“Nothing’s forever, including administrations and restaurants—especially restaurants. They can enjoy their Tex-Mex meals back in Austin. Twelve thirty
Pawkins was in his car and heading for the Watergate when his cell phone rang.
“Ray. It’s Carl Berry
“Hey, buddy, good to hear from you
“I got your message about lunch. No can do. But can you find time this afternoon to swing by here?”
“For you, I have all the time in the world. What’s up?”
“The Musinski case
“Oh? Making progress?”
“I think so. I need to go over your reports from when you investigated
“Nothing I can add,” Pawkins said. “Everything I know is in those reports
“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Berry, “but there are some loose ends we’d like to tie up before we go any further
“Like what?”
“Not over the phone. What’s good for you?”
“Since you didn’t get back to me until now, I found someone else to break bread with. Three?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
• • •
Aquarelle was busy, as usual, when Pawkins walked in, spotted Mac at a window table overlooking the Potomac, and took the seat opposite him. Remembering Annabel’s comments about the way the ex-detective dressed, Mac made a point of taking in what his luncheon companion wore that day—British tan chinos with razor creases, blue button-down shirt with a collar slightly higher than those bought off the rack, an intricately patterned tie in gold and browns, and a coffee-colored corduroy sport jacket with leather elbow patches and buttons. Whether his outfit was expensive to put together escaped Mac. All he knew was that Pawkins wore whatever he happened to have on extremely well.
“I haven’t been here since they reopened,” Pawkins said, indicating the dining room with a sweep of his hand.
Aquarelle had opened in the Watergate in 1996 and was a favorite of President and Mrs. Clinton during their White House days, although Jean-Louis’ Palladin saw its share of the first couple, too.