Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [99]
“How did this investigator, Poindexter, learn about this?” Mac asked.
“It’s my understanding that he’d enlisted the services of an individual who worked for Mr. Saibrón. Saibrón is a successful exporter of French wines and has quite a large staff. I gather it wasn’t difficult to find someone on that staff willing to exchange information from inside the company for a fee. I learned while working with Mr. Poindexter to not question his methods
Not necessarily a prudent decision, Mac thought.
“Go on,” Annabel urged. She’d slid to the edge of her chair.
“According to Mr. Poindexter, this American and Saibrón struck a deal, and the scores were ultimately delivered to Paris by the American
“I see,” said Mac.
Rufus yawned loudly, startling Josephson. “Everything is big about Rufus,” Mac said, “even his yawns. So the scores are now with this Georges Saibrón
“No,” Josephson said.
“No?” Annabel repeated. “Then where are they?”
“In Vienna. Mr. Saibrón quickly sold them to a collector there. I have his name
“That’s not important for the moment,” Mac said. “This American. Who was he?”
Josephson sighed, sat back, and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “Long flights tire me
“Me, too,” said Mac.
“The American?” Annabel said.
“At first, I couldn’t believe it,” Josephson said. “To think a man in his position would stoop to such a thing
Mac and Annabel looked at each other. Their thoughts were identical at that moment, unpleasant thoughts confirmed by Josephson.
“It was the detective who’d investigated Aaron’s murder, Mr. Raymond Pawkins.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Mac walked Josephson back to the hotel.
“I must admit, Marc, what you’ve outlined for us this evening is—well, let’s just say it’s as troubling as it is shocking.” They stood in the lobby exchanging final words.
“You can imagine my reaction when the final pieces were put together for me by Mr. Poindexter,” Josephson said. “At first, I didn’t believe it. But once I did, I was angry. To think that someone in law enforcement would kill to obtain the scores was unfathomable
“Let me caution you again, Marc, we don’t know if Detective Pawkins killed Dr. Musinski. You’ve traced the route the scores took, that’s all
“Can it be any other way?” Josephson said. “Whoever took those scores must have murdered Aaron
Mac didn’t prolong the debate, although what Josephson had deduced made sense—too much sense.
“You will think about what I’ve asked of you?” Josephson said.
“Yes, of course, but no promises. Frankly, I’m not sure what you’ve asked is the right approach
“I leave the approach to you, Mac. I knew I made the right decision in calling you. I feel so much better being in your capable hands
Mac said nothing.
“Thank you for a splendid dinner. Your wife is as lovely as I remember. I look forward to hearing from you in the morning
Mac hurried back to the apartment, where Annabel had been busy in his absence making notes of everything she could remember from the evening. They’d asked Josephson if they could make copies of some of the reports on their home photocopy machine, but he declined to do so despite their assurances that the copies would not leave their possession.
“I need a drink,” Mac said, heading for the kitchen. “You?”
“I already have one,” Annabel called after him.
“So,” he said after he’d joined