Joseph Kanon - Stardust

What could he say if she saw him? Find the wallet and get out. But he stayed, still not breathing. The other thigh now, an almost unbearable second, her sex just beyond the edge of the mirror, and then it moved forward, not hair, a wedge of bathing suit, then more, her whole body bent over, moving into the mirror, her head turning, looking toward her door. He closed the cabinet, a snap reflex, and crossed back to the office, his body flushed, slightly shaky. Had she seen him? The mirrors had to reflect each other, didn’t they? What would she have seen? Standing there, mouth half-open, looking where he shouldn’t, eyes fixed, caught in a kind of trance.

He picked up the checkbook again, pretending he could read the stub notes, listening for footsteps.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up, startled, feeling caught. She was pinning her hair, on her way to the pool.

“I was just-going through his things. I should have asked.”

Nervous, waiting for her to say something. But she seemed not to have seen him in the mirror.

“No, please. Somebody has to. I’ve been putting it off. I’ve been a coward a little bit. In case I found-you know, if it’s somebody I know,” she said, turning to go now, anxious, her movements as darting as they’d been that first day at Union Station.

A new idea. “Did he leave a will?”

“The lawyer has it. Everything comes to me, so that part’s easy. Oh,” she said, a hand-to-mouth gesture. “I never thought. Is there anything you would like? I’m sure he-”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t need anything. Anyway, you’re his wife.”

She smiled a little, trying to be light. “It’s lucky we’re living now. Not like in the old days. Bible times. You would have to take care of me. The brother’s wife. Like a sheep or a goat. I’d belong to you.”

He looked up at her, thrown off balance, then passed it off by smiling back.

“I couldn’t afford it.” He motioned to the check stubs. “Magnin’s alone.”

“You think I’m extravagant. Really, it was Daniel. He liked going out. He liked me to dress. And now how much is left? I haven’t thought.” She stopped and came over to the desk for a cigarette, her hands nervous. “I haven’t thought about anything, really. What I’m going to do. Since you won’t take me,” she said, smiling again, blowing out smoke. “I should sell the house. My father’s already asking, come live with me, but it’s enough the way it is. Milton’s daughter. An apartment somewhere, I guess. But I’d miss the pool.” All said quickly, as if she were filling time, avoiding something else.

“You don’t have to stay here.”

“I couldn’t leave my father. Anyway, I like it here. Maybe I’m lazy. Everyone complains, so ugly, so boring, but I like it.” She started to put on her bathing cap, then stopped. “I know why you’re looking,” she said suddenly, nodding to the desk. “You want to know who it was. The other one. But what does it matter now?”

He took a breath. “Because we need to know. I don’t think he killed himself. I don’t think he tripped.”

She said nothing for a minute, staring back, her body almost weaving. “You’re not serious,” she said finally, her voice faint.

“There was someone else in the room.”

“How can you know that?”

“It’s the only way it makes sense.”

“Sense,” she said, still trying to collect herself. “To think that. Things like that don’t happen, not in real life. Do you think he was a gangster?”

“That’s not the only reason-”

“Why then? She was so jealous? He was leaving her? Maybe it was the wife. Maybe you think that. Isn’t it always the wife?” she said, her voice rushed, flighty.

“Not always,” he said calmly.

She took up the cap again, fidgeting. “It’s not true. Think what it means.”

“It means he didn’t kill himself.”

Her shoulders moved, an actual shiver. “It changes everything, to think this. Why would anyone kill him?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“And you think it’s her? She’s so strong? To push a man like Daniel? Ouf.” She shook her head, dismissive.

“She’s a lead. He got the apartment for her.”

She nodded at the desk. “What do you expect to find?”

“A number, maybe.”

“Clues, like his detectives,” she said. “Ben.”

“You think I’m imagining this.”

“No,” she said, her face softer. “I think you want it to be true. It’s easier for you.” She frowned. “But how could it be true?” she said, not really talking, thinking. “To make someone do that. Kill you. He wasn’t like that.” She looked back at him. “It’s so hard for you to accept this? What he did?”

“He didn’t.”

“The police think so.”

“The police made a mistake.”

“But not you. Just like him. You get some idea and then you won’t let go.”

“It’s not some idea.”

“Because it’s better this way. He didn’t do it.”

“Isn’t it?”

She said nothing, at a loss, then turned to go. “There’s more,” she said, flicking her hand toward the piles on the desk. “Boxes from his office. In the screening room. The next installment of Partners. Maybe it’ll give you an idea.”

“You think I’m crazy.”

“Not crazy. Something. I don’t know what. Like him. So sure.”

“You don’t want to believe it.”

“I want it to be over. It’s something you learn, when you leave. You can’t look back. Not if you want to keep going. He’s gone,” she said.

“And if I’m right? We just walk away?”

She held his gaze for a second, her eyes troubled, then turned again and started for the pool.

He looked at the piles on the desk. Check stubs and an address book. Receipts. The life you could trace. Not the one that rented a room. In cash. He reached for his wallet and took out Tim Kelly’s card. Someone interested in the other one.

Kelly answered on the second ring.

“Heard you had a talk with Joel. The day guy at the Arms.”

“Heard from who?”

“Himself. I told him to let me know if anyone came around wanting to have a chat. And there you were.” The same breezy tilt to his voice, like a hat pushed back on his head.

“And he did this for free,” Ben said, curious.

There was a snort on the other end.

“Since you bring it up, if we’re going to help each other out, I could use a little contribution to the tip box. I can’t put everything on the paper.”

“He didn’t know anything.”

“Joel? Not much. But you have to go through him to get to the others. The maid, say. So it’s worth something. Spread the wealth.”

“How much?”

“I’m not keeping books. Buy me a drink some night and throw a twenty on the bar and I’m a happy guy.”

“Okay,” Ben said, sitting back, interested. “So what did the maid say?”

“Her favorite tenant. Hardly ever there. She doesn’t even have to make the bed.”

“So he doesn’t sleep over. We knew that.”

“Or do much of anything else. Not exactly a hot affair. Neat, though. No stains.”

“Oh,” Ben said. A peephole world he’d never imagined, not in detail. “What about the usual night clerk? Joel said he was just filling in.”

“Check. Night guy knew him. Saw him a few times. Never saw the playmate.”

“So she used the back.”

“Or they arrived different times. Or she said she was going to some other room and didn’t. There’re all kinds of ways to do this.” None of which so far had occurred to Ben.

“But if she didn’t want to be seen-I thought that was the idea.”

“That was the hope. A face they’d know. Which is still the way it looks to me.”