3
TWO DETECTIVES ARRIVED FIRST. STONE let them in and pointed at the kitchen. “She’s in there,” he said, then sat down at the dining table again. They went into the kitchen, then came right out again. One was a big guy, six-three or -four; the other was much shorter, stocky, florid-faced.
“Stand up,” the shorter one said to Stone.
“What?”
“
Stone stood up.
The shorter cop swung a right and caught Stone under the ear.
Stone spun to his right and fell onto the tabletop. Before he could move both cops were on him, handcuffing him. “What the hell are you doing?” Stone demanded.
They sat him back in the chair, and the short cop hit him again. “Murdering bastard!” the cop said, and then his larger partner restrained him.
“Easy, Mick,” the bigger man said. “You’ll mark him, and we don’t want that.”
Stone sat still, saying nothing.
“Why’d you kill her?” the short one demanded.
“I didn’t kill her; I found her as she is,” Stone said.
“Then why is her blood all over you?” he said, raising his fist again.
The bigger detective caught his wrist. “Mick,” he said quietly, “don’t make me cuff you.”
The smaller cop shot him a murderous glance. “Just try it,” he said.
“Stand away from him,” the bigger man said.
Reluctantly, the short cop backed away.
“Sorry about that, sir,” the large cop said. “I’m Detective Anderson, and this is Detective Kelly.” He took out a notebook. “What is your name?”
“Stone Barrington.”
Anderson looked up from his notebook and paused for a moment. “You want to tell me what happened here, Mr. Barrington?”
“I went out for Chinese food; I came back and found her as she is. I slipped on the kitchen floor and fell, that’s why I’m bloody. I called nine-one-one.”
“Lying fuck!” Kelly said, and started toward Stone again.
Anderson put a hand on his chest and pushed him against the wall. “I’m not going to tell you again, Mick.”
There was a loud hammering on the door.
“Get that,” Anderson said to his partner, shoving him toward the door.
Kelly yanked open the door and Dino Bacchetti walked in. He looked around. “Where’s the corpse?” he asked.
“In there, Lieutenant,” Kelly said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
“Stone, are you okay?” Dino asked.
“I’m cuffed,” Stone replied.
“Kelly, get the cuffs off that man,” Dino said.
“But Lieutenant…”
“Do it.”
Kelly dug out his keys and took the handcuffs off.
Stone stood up, rubbing his wrists; then he hit Kelly squarely in the nose, sending him sprawling.
“All right,” Dino said, “everybody calm down.” Kelly was scrambling to his feet, blood streaming from his nose, heading for Stone. Dino hit him in the forehead with his open palm, knocking him down again. “I said calm down.” Kelly got up more slowly this time. Dino turned to Anderson. “Did you see any of that, Andy?”
“See what?” Anderson asked.
Dino walked over to Stone and examined his jaw. “You okay?”
“I’m okay now,” Stone said.
“You’re covered in blood; any of it yours?”
“No.”
“All right, everybody take a seat, and let’s find out what happened.”
The four men sat down at the table.
Kelly dabbed a handkerchief at the blood on his face. “I think he broke my fucking nose,” he said to nobody in particular.
“Good,” Stone said.
“Andy,” Dino said.
Anderson placed his notebook on the table. “Let’s start again,” he said. “Can I have your address, Mr. Barrington?”
Stone gave him his address, then began at the beginning, at Martin Brougham’s party, and brought everybody up-to-date. While he was talking, two uniformed cops arrived, along with two EMTs and somebody from the medical examiner’s office.
Anderson reached over to the bag of Chinese food, ripped off the check stapled to the bag, and handed it to a uniform. “Go over to this restaurant, find out who ordered this food and when, who picked it up and when, and get a description,” he said.
The cop left with the check.
Stone resumed his story.
Anderson waited for Stone to finish. “Is that it?” he asked.
“One other thing: I think the perp was still in the building when I got back with the food.”
“Why do you think that?”
“When I rang for the elevator, it was on the top floor, and this is the only apartment on twelve. The elevator moved down to six, stopped, then continued to the ground floor. Where was it when you got here?”
“On the ground floor,” Anderson said.
“Then, unless another tenant or a visitor used the elevator between the time I got to this floor and the time you arrived, the perp waited on six until the car stopped up here and I got out, then he rang for it again and rode it down to the ground floor.”
“Pretty cool,” Dino said.
“Yes, pretty cool,” Stone agreed.
The uniformed cop returned. “A Miss Bean ordered the food by phone; the time is written on the check, right here,” he said, placing the check on the table. “A man arrived to pick up the food half an hour later, waited five minutes, paid for it, and left. He was over six feet, blond hair, medium to heavy build, dressed in a raincoat.”
Anderson looked at the check and did some mental calculating. “That checks with your story, Mr. Barrington,” he said.
“Measure the water in the kettle,” Stone said.
“What?”
“When I left, Susan said she was going to make some tea. Let’s find out how long it takes for the same amount of water to boil. That might help with the time frame.”
“Do it, Mick,” Anderson said. Kelly got up and went into the kitchen.
They continued talking until the kettle started to whistle. Anderson looked at his watch. “I make it three and a half minutes.”
“How much water was in the kettle?” Stone asked Kelly.
“A little under three cups,” Kelly replied sullenly.
“Here’s one scenario, then,” Stone said. “The killer arrives shortly after I leave. Within three and a half minutes. He kills her, then the kettle starts whistling. He turns off the kettle.”
“Why?” Kelly asked.
“Because nobody can stand around and listen to a kettle screaming like that,” Stone said. “Let’s see, five
