Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [46]
“Are you going to run for president?” a reporter yelled.
“There will be no questions,” Simmons said. “And frankly, I find that particular question to be inappropriate considering the reason we are here today.”
That didn’t stop the press corps from shouting other off-message queries as the three of them walked away from the microphones and disappeared from the room.
“Nicely done,” Rotondi commented to Emma.
“He’s smooth, that’s for sure. What about the sister? No one’s mentioned her, and she wasn’t at the press conference.”
“Marlene? I imagine they’re keeping her under wraps. She’s always been intensely jealous of Jeannette. Marlene is two, three years younger than her sister. She tried to make it as an actress in New York but didn’t get very far. I’ve always felt that she sees Jeannette—saw her married to a powerful U.S. senator and felt she was the one who should be in that role.”
“She never married?”
“No. She’s spent time in a few mental institutions when she’s gone off the deep end. She’s a strange lady, Emma. She goes through life as though she’s constantly auditioning for a role. One day she’s Blanche DuBois, the next she’s Mary, Queen of Scots. She never seems to connect with reality.” He smiled. “I suppose there are other actors and actresses who have that problem.”
“Maybe some.”
“Uh-huh. Anyway, Marlene has been supported by Lyle and Jeannette for much of her adult life. They pay for the condo she lives in, buy her cars, and pay most of the bills. She hasn’t worked in years.”
“What an unhappy life.”
“That it is.”
“Do you think that she might have let her anger at her sister boil over and…?”
“Anything’s possible. She’s volatile. I’ve been with her on a number of occasions when she’s erupted. One minute she’s as pleasant as can be. Then, without warning, she blows. She seems unable to control her emotions, especially her anger.”
“Have you ever seen her attack her sister?”
“Once. Kathleen and I were away for a weekend with Lyle and Jeannette. Marlene came along. She’d just gotten out of a stay at some mental health facility, and Jeannette wanted to treat her to a pleasant, relaxing weekend. I don’t recall what triggered it, but all of a sudden she started ranting about how their mother favored Jeannette. When Jeannette tried to calm her, Marlene lunged at her and pushed her over a chair. Lyle and I physically restrained her. After a couple of minutes, she was calm again and talking as though nothing had ever happened.” He looked out the window. “Funny,” he said.
“What’s funny?”
“Marlene and I always got along. She’s clearly unbalanced, but I never thought she could be homicidal.”
“You weren’t a threat to her.”
“I suppose. At any rate, I’m sure the police are taking a close look at her.”
“Phil, let me ask you something else.”
He cocked his head.
“Do you think it’s possible that the senator killed his wife?” Before he could answer, she added, “Or had someone kill her?”
“God, I hope not, Emma. I really don’t know.”
• • •
Detectives Chang and Widletz had been in the crowd at the press conference. They left quickly, got in the vehicle they’d checked out of the motor pool that morning, and drove away. Widletz would have preferred to drive, but knew that Chang didn’t feel a woman’s place was behind the wheel—didn’t feel, it seemed, that a woman’s place was anywhere except in front of a stove or folding laundry. He drove the way he lived his personal and professional life, slowly, deliberately, by the book. He’d never met a yellow traffic light that he didn’t observe. There was no racing to a crime scene with Charlie Chang behind the wheel.
“Where are