Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [96]
Emma’s greeting was as wholehearted as Homer’s but her paws were smaller, and softer. “Good trip?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was fine. Good catering job?”
“Basically tasteless food but I tried to spice it up a little. Everything went smoothly. You talked to Mac Smith?”
“I called him right after we talked. He wants to get together with me today.”
“About the murder?”
“You might say that. That new development the press is talking about hits close to home. They’re suspecting Jonell Marbury of the murder.”
“What?”
“And they think the young lady’s fall from her balcony might not have been an accident. Jonell is involved in that, too.”
“Welcome home,” she said. “Got any more bombshells to share with me?”
“No.”
“God, Phil, I’m speechless. Where did you hear this?”
“Mac Smith. That’s why he wanted to get ahold of me last night. When the police took Jonell in for questioning, his fiancée, Marla, called Mac. They went together to police headquarters and arranged for Jonell to walk, at least for the moment. But according to Mac, the cops are convinced they have a case against Jonell. They found his fingerprint on a glass in Jeannette Simmons’s kitchen, and a hair in one of the bathrooms that came from an African American. Jonell claims he never set foot inside the house, which as far as the police are concerned brands him a liar.”
“Do you think—?”
“That he is the murderer? Beats me. He didn’t come off like one when we met. Mac’s convinced he’s being framed by someone. My question is…”
Emma waited for him to continue.
“Look, Emma, there’s another dimension to this that I haven’t shared with you.”
“Oh?”
“Sit down and I’ll run through it with you. It’s sensitive stuff, Emma, really sensitive.”
• • •
Neil Simmons was about to leave the house when his father called.
“Hi, Dad. You’re back?” His voice was flat.
“Yes, I’m back. I’d like an update on the memorial service.”
“Everything’s in order, I think.”
“You think? I expect better than that, Neil.”
Neil held in check what he was about to say. Instead, but more firmly, he said, “Everything is set, Dad. If you’d like, I’ll come by today and show you the plans.”
“Come at noon. I’ll have some time then.”
“All right. Noon.”
“Run by the house before you come and pick up some briefing papers I need this afternoon. They’re in my tan briefcase next to my desk in the library.”
“All right.”
“Who was that?” Alexandra asked as she came down the stairs.
“My father.”
“What did he want?”
“I’m meeting with him at noon about the memorial service.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what to wear. I suppose it will have to be black.”
“I really don’t know what color you should wear, Alex. I have to go. I might not be home for dinner tonight.”
• • •
Rotondi finished his “briefing” of Emma.
“And you’ve had the papers and photos all this time?”
“Since that weekend with Jeannette.”
Emma smiled. “I won’t ask what happened that weekend, Phil.”
“Between Jeannette and me? Nothing happened, aside from hearing her story, and being handed the envelope with enough ammunition to blow Lyle’s presidential hopes out of the water, to say nothing of sinking the Marshalk Group.”
“I believe you,” she said.
“As long as we’re in this confessional mood, I should also tell you about the relationship I did have with Jeannette.”
“Relationship? Romantic?”
“Yeah. Back in college. Want to hear?”
“Only if you want me to.”
After he’d recounted for her the story of how he’d been dating Jeannette in college, and the way Lyle stole her away, Emma’s expression morphed from intense interest to anger. When he was through, she glared at him.
“You’re mad,” he said.
“You bet I am.”
“It was a long time ago, Emma.”
“I don’t care how long ago it was, damn it. How could you have remained friends with this bastard all these years? That’s what I’m mad about.”
Rotondi shrugged. “That’s me, Emma. I don’t hold grudges.”
“The hell you don’t. And if anybody ever deserved to have a grudge held against him, it’s your friend Simmons.”
“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to taint your opinion