together.
'It's routine.'
'I don't think you understand. The Anderson Agency has been in business in this very room for over a hundred years. No employment agency in the country has a longer or more distinguished history. We've staffed the great homes of America— the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, the Fords, the Kennedys, the Roosevelts—royal families all over the world use our services. Queens, princes!'
'We still need the files,' Eloise said before Miss Anderson got too wrapped up in her speech.
'They come because I'm discreet. I understand their needs. They sit in the chairs where you're sitting. They tell me the intimate details of their lives because they know that I will keep their secrets. All these years I have kept the secrets, and I will not change that for anything.' Although she did not look that old, Miss Anderson gave the impression of being nearly a hundred years old herself, stuck somewhere between World War I and World War II with her turban and mannish shoulder pads.
Eloise glanced at Hagedorn. He was taking notes at a furious pace and she wondered what he was writing. 'Do you have secrets to keep about Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Perkins?' she asked.
'I will not desecrate their memories,' Anderson said flatly.
'How well did you know them?'
'Well enough to know that they were difficult to staff. Young people are different these days. But I try to be understanding.' She shut thin lips and lifted her eyebrows. 'This is the exodus, you know.'
'The exodus?'
'The time they leave for the summer. Every year it's a problem. The husband in one place, the wife and children in another. And they're never happy, are they?'
'They weren't happy?'
She raised her eyebrows. 'These were not the best families,' she. said after a dramatic pause. 'You know how that is.'
'Ah,' Eloise murmured knowingly, although she had no idea what the woman was talking about.
'I see the whole idea is foreign to you.' She tapped a sensible shoe.
'Are you talking about the Social Register?' El-oise said as if she finally got it.
' No, no. Nobody cares about the Social Register anymore. Quality goes deeper than that'
'So Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Perkins were not high-class people. Is that a major flaw?' Eloise asked.
'Don't misunderstand me. I have all kinds of clients. Some of them are people one wouldn't sit down to dinner with.'
Eloise smiled, aware that she would be one of them.
'That's not what I mean in this case, though. These were the new school—ungrateful young women who have everything in the world but are never pleased with what they have or the service they receive from others,' she said sternly.
'So they fired everybody.'
'Everybody.'
'I imagine that would be a good thing for you. You get a commission for each placement.'
'I can't comment on that.'
'Mrs. Perkins said that you get twenty percent of a year's salary. That can add up if you have several in a year.'
'Indeed. '
'So maybe you didn't always place the very best girls with them. Did they have previous employment problems?'
'There's no need to be challenging. I will give you the files, if you want them,' Anderson said suddenly. 'That will be all for now.' She stood up and ushered them to the door.
Gelo and Hagedorn were used to every kind of behavior. They cooled their heels with the chilly receptionist until a younger woman brought them a manila envelope. Relieved that they didn't have to get out the big guns, they took it and bolted.
Thirty-eight
Woody tried, unsuccessfully, to get into the Perkins house. He was waiting for April by the car when she finally emerged and pushed through the thicket of reporters. She saw him step forward and wave, but stopped for a moment to talk to Lily, who had her cameraman all set up for an interview.
'It's a homicide, but I can't tell you any more than that at this time,' she told the reporter, who'd freshened her lipstick when April emerged.
'Is that the best you can do?' Lily demanded.
'The very best,' April said, tilting her head to give a bad angle to the cam.
'Oh, come on. We've been here all morning. What were you doing in there?' she asked.
Talking on the phone, talking to Igor and Tam while they worked the crime scene, talking to Lynn Papel and Andrew Perkins, searching the house for Alison's missing diamond rings. April smiled ruefully. 'The usual,' she murmured.
'Fuck, April. I thought we were friends.'
'We are friends, but you know the rules. I'm not the go-to person on this. Let's have lunch soon, okay?'
'Aren't you sailing on Friday?' Lily waved away her cameraman.
The red light on the video cam went off, but April was startled nonetheless. 'How did you know that?' She'd forgotten all about her honeymoon.
'Oh, I have my way.' Lily smiled, and at that moment looked exactly like Lucy Liu, playing the stereotypical evil Chinese dragon lady.
April smiled. Despite the facade, she didn't think Lily was so tough. 'Okay, what do you know?'
'I have some stuff.' Lily checked her watch. 'How about lunch? I don't have to be at the studio until five.'
'This is homicide, not a game, Lily. If you know anything at all about this, give right now.'
'Dinner?' she teased. 'It'll be worth it.'
'It's a crime to withhold information.' April didn't feel like playing. 'I have to go.'
'All right, breakfast tomorrow, then. I promise you won't be sorry.'
'Okay, we'll see.' April crossed the street, and Woody stepped forward to meet her with a happy smile.
'Boss, how ya doin'?' he said.
'Not a good day for me.' She moved toward the car, pushing the reporter out of her mind.
'I have the photos from yesterday that you asked for.' Woody looked around. The street was closed, but pedestrians and their dogs and children were still loitering on the block. 'Some of the same people are here.' ,
He opened the passenger door of the car, and she settled in with a sigh. 'Did you take any photos today?'
'Of course,' he said.
'Good, we'll take a look later.'
He held the door open for a second, gazing at her with expectation. 'Where to?'
'The lab. I want to talk to Ducci.'
'Okey-dokey. '
Woody walked around to the driver's side and headed east. As they turned up Sutton Place, he started whistling through his teeth. April didn't hear it at first. She was debating calling home to see what mischief her mother was up to. The wise option would be to call, but she didn't think she could handle someone yelling at her right now. 'Take the Fifty-ninth Street entrance to the bridge,' she instructed Woody.
'So . . . was it as bad as yesterday?' he asked after a moment.
'Yes.' She didn't want to talk about it. On the bridge going to Queens, the traffic slowed to a crawl. 'What's going on with Sergeant Gelo?' she asked.
'Looks like she's chosen Hagedorn for her partner,' he said, whistling again.
Interesting call. 'Cut that out, Woody.'
He continued whistling.
'Woody!'
