Ed McBain - Cinderella

And...

“Can I have a little white wine or will they take a fit?”

And...

“Please pass the salt.”

And...

“I wonder if they have brewed decaf.”

Silence now as they drank their coffee.

He decided to break his own cardinal rule.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“You haven’t said much all night.”

I’m tired,” she said. “Too much sun. I was on the beach all day.”

“Sure there’s nothing you want to tell me about?”

“Nothing.”

Silence again.

“Did you enjoy yourself in Palm Beach?”

“Yep.”

More silence.

“Joanna, what is it?” he said.

“What is what?” she said.

“Whatever it is.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, I know it’s something.”

“Okay, you want to know what it is?”

“Yes.”

“I found your tie.”

“My what ?”

“Your tie. I found your tie at the house.”

“What house?”

“ Mom’s house, whose house do you think?”

“What tie? You found my...?”

“The blue tie with the pony on it, the blue Ralph Lauren tie.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know the tie I mean?”

“Yes, I know the tie.”

“I found it out by the pool,” Joanna said. “You know where the two lounge chairs are? That’s where I found the tie. On one of the lounge chairs.”

“Uh-huh.”

There was a long silence.

“Were you at the house this weekend?” Joanna asked.

He hesitated.

“Dad?”

“Yes,” he said. “I dropped by after work Friday.”

“Mom didn’t mention it,” Joanna said.

“Well,” he said.

“Did she ask you to come over or what?”

“Joanna,” he said, “what business is this of yours?”

“Well, I just think it’s odd , that’s all.”

“It is,” he said.

“I mean, was there something you had to discuss with her? Something about me?”

“No,” he said, and hesitated. “Joanna,” he said, “this really is none of your business.”

“’Cause you usually discuss things on the phone , you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“In fact, you usually wait outside in the car for me, you toot the horn and wait , you know? So it just seems odd that you’d go to the house to talk to Mom, if that’s why you went there. I mean, it’s not exactly a secret , Dad, that you don’t get along too well, you know what I mean? I mean, a person wouldn’t exactly call you pals , you know what I mean? So I think it’s really strange , I mean actually peculiar that you’d go over to the house while I’m away in Palm Beach!”

“Lower your voice, please,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and looked quickly around the room to see if any of the other diners had reacted to her somewhat strident outburst.

“There was some kind of mix-up,” he said calmly. “I didn’t know you were going to Palm Beach. I went to the house to pick you up. Your mother invited me in, and we had a few drinks together. Okay?”

“Then why is that none of my business?”

“Because it isn’t,” he said.

“And also, why didn’t you tell me on the phone when I talked to you earlier today that you’d seen Mom over the weekend? And how come you’re saying there was a mix-up and you didn’t know I was in Palm Beach when on the phone you didn’t seem too surprised when I was talking about her calling you and telling you all about Palm Beach? So what’s going on, Dad?”

“Nothing’s going on,” he said.

“Okay, fine,” Joanna said, and took her napkin off her lap and put it on the table. “Could you get the check, please, Dad? I want to go home. I’m really very tired.”

“Joanna...” he said.

“Get the check, okay?”

They rode out to Stone Crab Key in silence. The house was dark when they got there.

“Have you got your key?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You want your tie?”

“There’s no hurry, I’ll—”

“Maybe you can pick it up some other time,” she said, “when I’m not home again,” and got out of the Ghia and ran to the front door.

He watched as she put her key into the latch.

She unlocked the door, opened it, and went into the house.

The lights came on.

He realized all at once that she’d told him she’d bought him a nice present.

Apparently she’d decided not to give it to him.

He waited another moment, and then pulled the car away from the curb, trying to remember what Susan had said about Electra.

Andrew Hacker was a detective who probably stood six feet two inches in his stockinged feet and maybe weighed a hundred and ninety pounds, but standing alongside Cooper Rawles he looked stunted. Hacker hadn’t said a word since they’d entered the office. Matthew wouldn’t even have known his name if Cynthia Huellen hadn’t announced them both on the phone before she led them down the hall and showed them in.

Rawles in person was a mountain of a man, intimidating by his very presence, more intimidating because Matthew knew he was a good cop and a tough cop, and he was here now laying down all kinds of law. Hacker just stood beside him, looking small and being silent, shock of red hair hanging on his forehead, freckles all over his face, all he needed was a piece of hay in his teeth to look like a shit-kicking redneck. This was Rawles’s show, and Hacker knew it. He just kept listening to his partner, his face expressionless. It was raining outside. Really raining. What they called a frog-strangler here in Calusa. Outside Matthew’s window, the pavements were sending up steam. Rawles was doing a little steaming of his own.

“What I understand,” he said, “is she called you first.”

“I guess she did,” Matthew said.

“There was a burglary, so the first person she calls is you , not the police. That’s the first thing pisses me off, Mr. Hope,” he said, and poked a thick forefinger toward Matthew’s desk. “The second thing pisses me off is there was a tape stolen from that office and the first time I heard about it was when the Chinese lady told me it was gone.”

“I don’t know which tape you mean. A lot of tapes were stolen, Detective Rawles. As well as file folders and uncashed checks and petty cash and—”

“I’m talking about the Nettington tape,” Rawles said. “Did you know this tape existed?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this tape?”

“The last time I told you anything...”

“Never mind the last time, which by the way we located that Toronado.”

“Oh?” Matthew said, and waited for more. Nothing more came.

“I’m talking about this time,” Rawles said, “where we’re concerned here with a tape that may have had something to do with Samalson’s murder, and you knew about this tape, and you didn’t see fit to tell the police about it. Did you hear this tape, Mr. Hope?”

“Yes.”

“We listened to it a half-hour ago,” Rawles said. “The original of it, which was in the safe. Whoever busted in there stole a copy the Chinese lady made.”

“ Plus a lot of other things. Including a tape deck and two typewriters.”

“That’s a very interesting tape, Mr. Hope. It’s also a tape that makes your Mr. Nettington—”

“ My Mr. Nettington?”

“His wife is your client, isn’t she?”

“Yes?”

“Well, this tape nails him to the wall where it concerns adultery, which by the way is a crime in the state of Florida, I refer you to Chapters 798.01, 02, and 03. Living in Open Adultery, Lewd and Lascivious Behavior, and Fornication, all second-degree misdemeanors punishable by terms of imprisonment not to exceed sixty days. Did your Mr. Nettington know that tape could send him to jail?”