Sea Change

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S E A C H A N G E

“Then we’d have no reason to search the alleged crime scene.”

“The Lady Jane?” Molly said.

“And confiscate any videotape we might find,” Jesse said.

Molly began to nod her head slowly.

“And since it is a lawful search, if we stumbled across anything that looked like evidence in the Florence Horvath homicide . . .” she said.

“Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good,” Jesse said.

“It helps to know what to do with the luck when it comes your way,” Molly said.

“Yes, it does,” Jesse said.

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28

K elly Cruz sat on a terrace in the tallest building south of New York and looked at

Biscayne Bay. The Cuban maid brought

her iced tea with mint.

“Mister and Missus will come right out, soon,” the maid said.

Kelly Cruz nodded. The maid backed off the terrace.

Kelly Cruz watched an ornate white cruise ship plod fatly south in the bay. She had never been on a cruise, but she couldn’t imagine it was much fun.

“Miss Cruz? Nice to see you again.”

Kelly Cruz put her tea down and stood.

S E A C H A N G E

“Mr. Plum,” she said. “Mrs. Plum.”

Everyone shook hands.

“Sit down,” Mr. Plum said, “please.”

The Cuban maid appeared with iced tea for the Plums.

“That will be all, Magdalena,” Mrs. Plum said. “Thank you.”

The first time she’d met them, Kelly Cruz thought they looked like brother and sister. Mrs. Plum had thick silver hair brushed back, and very large sunglasses. Her skin was evenly tanned. She was slim and wearing a white silk shirt with white linen slacks and sandals. Her toenails were polished. Early sixties, Kelly Cruz estimated. Both of them. Mr.

Plum looked like his wife. Silvery hair, brushed back, even tan, dark glasses, white shirt and slacks. Mr. Plum smiled at Kelly Cruz.

“Did I tell you when you came by last time?” he said.

“That you’re quite attractive for a detective.”

“It’s a disguise,” Kelly Cruz said.

Mr. Plum smiled widely and nodded in a way that made Kelly Cruz think he hadn’t understood what she said.

“Do you have any new information about Florence’s death,”

Mrs. Plum said.

“I need to ask you some more questions, tell you some things we have learned,” Kelly Cruz said, “and get your comments. Not all of the things will be pleasant.”

“Must you?” Mrs. Plum said. “Don’t you think we may have heard enough unpleasant things?”

“She has to do her job, Mommy,” Mr. Plum said.

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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Do you know a man named Thomas Ralston?” Kelly Cruz said.

Mr. Plum looked thoughtful for a time.

Then he said, “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Mrs. Plum?” Kelly Cruz said.

“He’s one of the crowd of pimps and gigolos that Florence knew.”

“Florence? Are you sure, Mommy? I don’t remember him.”

“You remember only what you want to,” Mrs. Plum said.

“And I’m not your mother.”

Mr. Plum smiled at his wife.

“Which was he,” Kelly Cruz said.