Stuart Woods - New York Dead

“Was she here for a meeting?”

“Nope, she was alone. I guess that means Sasha was a dyke, too, huh?”

“How often did you see her here?”

“Only once, and then through the peephole. It was her, though. She and Morgan were holding hands.” She gave a little shudder.

“Do you remember the date you saw her here?”

Ms. Vincent shook her head. “Not exactly. Must have been a month or so ago.”

Stone finished his coffee. “Do you know any of Ms. Morgan’s other friends?”

“Nope. We don’t socialize. I mean, we’re polite to each other, but it’s obvious we have absolutely nothing in common, except this house.”

“Has Ms. Morgan been doing some work on her place?”

“I’ll say she has! She’s had builders in the house almost since the day she moved in; she must have done something pretty major to her place. They’ve stopped coming, though; they must be finished.” She paused. “Did I mention that Morgan has a gun?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I saw it when she moved in. I ran into her on the front steps – the first time I’d met her – and she was carrying a cardboard box full of stuff, and right on top was this pretty good-sized pistol in a holster. She made some joke about how you can’t be too careful in New York.”

Stone stood up. “Well, thank you for your help, Ms. Vincent.”

“Wouldn’t you like another cup?” She seemed anxious for company.

“Thanks, but I have a lot to do today.”

Stone left the building and walked up and down both sides of the street. He checked at a bar, a dry cleaner, and a shoe repair shop; all of them were acquainted with Hank Morgan, but nobody had seen her on the night of Sasha’s disappearance. He checked his notebook for the home phone number of the doorman at Sasha’s old building, called him, and ascertained that Morgan had been there before Sasha’s fall. The doorman hadn’t seen Morgan that night. Discouraged, he drove back to the precinct.

Dino was at his desk, looking pleased with himself.

“There wasn’t any promissory note,” he said, grinning. “Morgan lied to us.”

“Not necessarily,” Stone replied. “Nijinsky might have kept them someplace else.”

“Nah,” Dino said. “She kept perfect records, and they were perfectly complete. If Morgan had given her a note, that’s where it’d be. What did you come up with?”

Stone gave an account of his investigation. “The downstairs neighbor was on vacation, like Morgan said. The lady doesn’t like lesbians, but she had nothing to say that would have incriminated Morgan. I had the feeling she wished she’d had something to tell me.”

“Morgan’s our killer,” Dino said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“I can’t feel it in mine, Dino. I know how bad we need a bust on this one, but Morgan’s just not it. The lady’s clean, except maybe on a weapons charge. The neighbor saw a pistol, but Morgan may have a permit.”

“I’ll check on that, but, take my word for it, the lady’s no lady,” Dino said. “And she’s dirty.”

On his way home, Stone was stopped in his tracks by a headline in the Post: ARREST IN SASHA CASE! He grabbed a copy.

Henrietta “Hank” Morgan, 32, a makeup artist at the Continental Network and a leading activist in lesbian-rights demonstrations, was taken in handcuffs to the 19th Precinct this morning and questioned for more than three hours about the disappearance of TV anchorwoman Sasha Nijinsky. In what a police source described as a “breakthrough” in the investigation, Morgan is reported to have given a detailed statement on videotape, while her lawyer, Carlton Palmer, was present. While the NYPD has not disclosed the contents of the tape, a source has said, “This all but wraps up the investigation.” The source would not reveal what the NYPD thinks has become of Sasha.

Ace criminal trial lawyer Palmer said, in a telephone interview at press time, “My client is innocent of any wrongdoing, and the police know that. This entire episode is a perversion of justice.”

Morgan, the daughter of a prominent Pennsylvania manufacturer, has been in and out of a dozen makeup jobs in the film and television industry over the past ten years and is known to have been Sasha Nijinsky’s personal choice as her makeup artist at the Continental Network.

The story made Stone grind his teeth. The precinct seemed to be leaking from every pore, and whoever had given the Post the story had either not known what he was talking about or had deliberately misled the newspaper. There was going to be hell to pay.

The phone was ringing as he entered the house, tripping over a number of boxes in the hallway. The dentist in the professional suite downstairs received packages for him when he was at work and put them inside the front door.

Dino was on the phone. “Leary wants us downtown at the DA’s office tomorrow morning at nine.”

“What’s going on?”

“He didn’t say.”

A thought struck Stone. “I’m scheduled for a department physical tomorrow morning.”

“If you want, I’ll do the meeting, you get checked out.”

Stone thought for a moment. “I’d better be there, I think. I don’t much like the sound of it.”

“You seen the Post ?”

“Yeah. Who do you think is leaking to the press?”

“Could be anybody.”

“I guess so.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Dino hung up.

Stone turned his attention to the boxes in the front hall. A glance at the labels told him what they were. Shit, he had intended to cancel the clothes orders. How could they have gotten them here so fast? Furious at himself and annoyed by being called to the DA’s office for no apparent reason, he ripped through the day’s mail and nearly threw away an invitation, thinking it some sort of classy junk mail. It was for dinner on Saturday, at the apartment of Hiram Barker. That should be an interesting evening, he thought. He rang the number, got an answering machine, and accepted, adding that he would bring a date, if that was all right. Well, he thought, sighing, at least he’d be able to dress well for the occasion.

They were at Elaine’s, at a small table all the way in the back. It was a crowded night, as usual, and Lauren, the singer-piano player, was straining to be heard above the din.

“Want to go to dinner at Hi Barker’s on Saturday night?” he asked Cary.

She nearly choked on her scotch. “No kidding?”

“No kidding. The invitation came in today’s mail.”

“You’re really coming up in the world. Dinner at Barker’s is a hot ticket.”

“I interviewed him about Sasha, and he said come to dinner sometime. I thought it was just the usual chat.”

“I am definitely available,” she said. “Now, what am I going to wear?”

“I don’t have any problem about what to wear,” he said. “All that stuff we ordered came today. You know what you made me spend?”

She waved away his question. “My daddy always said, ‘Buy the things you want, and then figure out how to pay for them. Debt is a great motivator.’”

Stone laughed. “Well, I guess I’d better get motivated.”

“Come on, sweetheart, that’s what credit cards are for. How do you think everybody else in this town dresses?”

“I never did it that way. I never bought anything on a credit card that I couldn’t pay for at the end of the month.”

“A very stuffy attitude.”

“A very necessary one, when you’re on a cop’s salary.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“About my salary?”

“About making a lot more money than you are. You’ve got a law degree, after all; why don’t you use it?”