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By Root 560 0

the ones Emma uses in her catering business. Catch this, Mac. Morris told me that some of his own detectives are raising the possibility that Jonell was framed. That’s exactly what must have happened, and it has to have been Marshalk who’s behind it. He sends Jonell on an errand that places him at the scene of the murder. They have a glass from one of their parties that Emma catered and arrange for Jonell to pick it up somewhere along the line and leave his prints. They plant a hair from him. And Marshalk counsels Jonell not to go to the police about having been there. That puts Jonell in a further bad light with the cops.”

Smith listened impassively, an occasional grunt his only verbal response. When Rotondi was finished, Smith said, “The question is why?” He looked at the manila envelope Rotondi carried with him. “Is that the material you’ve told me about?”

“Yes.”

“You think it might provide a motive for Mrs. Simmons’s murder?”

“Yes.”

“Time for me to look at it, Phil?”

“Yes.”

Rotondi handed the envelope to Smith, who slowly opened it and looked at one piece at a time, carefully removing each paper or photo, examining it, and replacing it before extracting another. The process took ten minutes. He secured the clasp when he was through and handed the envelope back to Rotondi.

“What are you going to do, Phil?” Smith asked.

“Show it to Lyle at some point.”

“Well,” Smith said, “you know what he’ll say. He’ll tell you to burn it.”

“I know.” Rotondi leaned back and looked up into the pristine blue sky and puffy white clouds that drifted by. “The senator’s daughter, Polly, called me a little while ago. She sounded upset. I’m meeting with her and her brother at two.”

“Maybe you should run that stuff by them before going to the senator,” Smith said.

Rotondi pondered the suggestion. “Maybe. Jeannette said she was going to talk to Neil about it.”

“Did she?”

“I don’t know. Neil has never mentioned it, and I haven’t brought it up. It’s time I did.”

“Your call,” Smith said. “I’ll be home all afternoon if you need me. I’m meeting with Jonell and the attorney I’ve brought in to officially represent him.”

“Do me a favor,” Rotondi said. “Ask Jonell what the envelope looked like, the writing on it. It’ll help me identify it when I go there.”

Smith’s final words came as they parted ways in front of Smith’s apartment building. “If Mrs. Simmons was killed because she had that material in her possession, Phil, anyone else having it could be in jeopardy, too.”

Rotondi got the message.

• • •

Neil and Polly pulled up to the house in which they’d grown up. Neil turned off the ignition and stared at the front door.

“Coming?” Polly asked as she opened the door on her side.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil said, not sounding convincing.

He used his key to gain entrance. They stood silently in the foyer and strained to hear any sounds coming from upstairs.

“Smell that?” Neil asked.

Polly raised her head and sniffed. “Perfume,” she said. “Mom’s favorite.”

“See? I told you.”

Polly took deliberate strides up the stairs. She paused at the landing and looked back at her brother, who stood as though paralyzed. Polly waved, and he began a slow ascent. She waited on the second floor until he’d joined her. They went to the open door to the master bedroom. There was no one there. Polly went to the dressing table and looked down at the array of cosmetics. She turned to Neil. “I don’t see any sign that she was here,” she said.

Emboldened, he entered the room and stood at her side. “She was here, Polly. You can smell the perfume, can’t you?”

“Yes, I smell it. Let’s go to her place.”

“I’d rather not,” he said. “I say we go right to the police and let them know that she probably killed Mom.”

Polly fixed him with a quizzical stare. “You sound as though you want her to be the one, Neil.”

“Oh, no, that’s not true. It just makes sense, that’s all. We all know how sick she is, Polly. At least the police should be made aware of what I saw.”

“We’ll see what Phil thinks,” she said with finality. “We don’t do anything until we talk to him.”

“Phil’s