Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [41]
“I hope he listens to you,” she said.
“I do, too, Annie. I had the feeling that it wasn’t because he considered himself irrelevant. It’s almost as though he had a more concrete reason for his decision.”
“Well,” she said, “if he’s smart, which we know he is, he’ll do what you suggested. The evening was a success, wasn’t it?”
“It always is with you at the helm.”
A kiss good night, then lights out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, Jonell Marbury sat in Rick Marshalk’s office with Marshalk and the firm’s president, Neil Simmons.
“What time is the press conference?” Marshalk asked Simmons.
“Noon.”
“It’s a good move,” Marshalk said. “You say your sister will be with you?”
“According to Dad, and I was happy to hear it. They haven’t always gotten along.”
“Sometimes tragedy brings families together,” Marbury offered.
“Glad everything went well with Betzcon,” Neil said.
Marshalk snapped his fingers. “Piece o’ cake. Couldn’t have gone better. They’ve got deep pockets and are willing to fund whatever we suggest. They’re putting up half of the reward money through CMJ. I talked to them this morning. They’ve committed to underwriting that rock concert in New York next month.” His laugh was snide. “Can you believe those clowns in Congress? They pass all those new ethics rules so we can’t buy a congressman a hamburger, but they open it up for us to pay thousands for their fund-raisers. The concert will cost Betzcon sixty grand, and we net half. That’s a bargain for Betzcon considering the political clout they’re getting.”
Neil stood and removed his suit jacket from where he’d hung it on the back of his chair. “I have some things to do before the conference,” he announced.
“How’d the interview with the cops go yesterday?” Marshalk asked.
“Okay. They kept asking about Mom and Dad’s relationship, whether they had problems. I mean, Jesus, doesn’t every couple have problems? That’s what I told them, that my parents fought once in a while like every other married couple.” He shook his head. “Dad was all over me on the phone last night for telling the cops that. They’ve got this Chinese detective doing the questioning. I feel like I’m back in a nineteen-forties black-and-white movie.”
Marshalk laughed; Marbury was silent.
“I’ll check in later,” Simmons said.
Marshalk turned to Marbury after Simmons was gone. “You said you had something to talk to me about. Shoot.”
“The murder,” Marbury said. “I know you and Jack say I shouldn’t bother mentioning to the police that I was there at the senator’s house the afternoon of the murder, but I’m uncomfortable with that.”
“Why?”
“Because I might have been the last person to see her alive.”
“Oh, come on, Jonell, you come off like some knee-jerk dogooder.” He leaned his elbows on the desk. “You have nothing to offer the cops. So you were there delivering something for us. Big deal. You heard what Jack said. He should know. Christ, he was with MPD for twenty years before coming over here. He told you that if you volunteer that you were there, all it will do is open up a can of worms where you’re concerned, and cause problems for the firm. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do that.”
“I had a conversation last night with Mackensie Smith.”
“Who’s he?”
“He used to be a top defense lawyer here in D.C. He teaches law at GW now. He suggests that I go to the police immediately.”
“You told him that you were at the Simmons house?”
“Yes.”
Marshalk sat back and sighed.
“I just want to do what’s right,” Marbury said.
“Sure. So do I.” Marshalk leaned forward again. “Look, Jonell, give it a day or two before you make a decision. Fair enough?”
“I talked to Marla about it last night. She thinks I should go to the police today.”
“Marla’s not an attorney, or a cop.” Marshalk came around the desk and slapped Marbury on the back. “All we all want, Jonell, is for the police to find who murdered Jeannette Simmons and bring that person to justice. Agreed?”
“Of course. Thanks for listening,