really first-class, for two hundred dollars. Turquoise is something else. These are top of the line.”
“How long ago did he buy them?”
“The first? Last fall sometime. Before Christmas, anyway, because he came in again at Christmas.”
“And the last?”
“A little after that. I can tell you exactly if you give me a few minutes.”
“Please.”
Chalmers brought out a black account book and leafed through the pages. “Yes, here’s one. I’ll jot down the dates for you, if it’s important,” he said, taking out a piece of paper. “November. Well, I wasn’t far off.” He made a note. “Was he the poor boy who was killed in the park?” he said, not looking up.
Connolly said nothing.
“A terrible thing. So young. And you think it might have something to do with the jewelry?” he asked gently.
“Frankly, no. But we need to check everything. It’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, I wondered about that too. He had all that money, and yet he didn’t seem the type. Of course, since the war—”
“He paid in cash?”
“Yes, always in cash.”
“Is that usual?”
“Usual? At that price? In Santa Fe? No, indeed. Still, I must say it was a convenience, not having to wait for a check to clear.”
“But you didn’t think there was anything wrong?”
Chalmers looked up at him.
“Wrong? There is never anything wrong with cash, my friend. Where he got it was his business, not mine. He wasn’t a gangster, not that I could see. Maybe he gambled. Maybe he sold tires on the black market. Maybe he just preferred cash-some people do. I don’t ask customers for bank references when they’re handing me cash. I didn’t know he would be killed.”
“I didn’t say he was.”
“No, you didn’t. But who else could it be? Maybe that explains it, carrying all that cash. And to think of such things in Santa Fe-robberies in broad daylight—”
“We assume it happened at night,” Connolly said. “We don’t know it was robbery. He may have been meeting a friend.” He held the jeweler’s gaze. The store was now very quiet.
Chalmers stared back at him, then spoke slowly and distinctly, as if he were using a code he did not want Connolly to misunderstand. “Perhaps. But I’ve never heard of such meetings. Not there. In Santa Fe, friends see each other in their houses. In private. It would be a shame to have anything disturb that. People get along because they keep to themselves. You wouldn’t want to disturb that peace. Not here.”
4
At first he didn’t recognize her. She was walking toward him across the plaza, still dressed in the blouse and riding pants of the night before but with her hair down now, swaying lazily behind her, and her face partially hidden by sunglasses. She was carrying a few books under one arm, leaving the other to keep time with her long stride, and stopped short when she saw him on the curb.
“Oh God, it’s you,” she said. “Now I don’t even have time to think what to say. I just hoped-you know, a few days and you’d forget.” He looked at her, not saying anything, and she took off her sunglasses, as if he needed to complete the identification. “Don’t tell me you have forgotten. Hard to think which would be worse. Emma.”
He smiled. “Yes, I know. How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad, considering. Look, I am sorry. I don’t know what got into me. You must think-well, I don’t know what you must think. Quite an introduction, being sick all over you.”
“No, you kept your distance. Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s something, anyway. How does one apologize? Do I send round flowers or something? Believe it or not, I’ve never done that before.”
“You could have lunch with me.”
“A bit early. Or is that a line?”
“No, it’s an invitation. I hate eating alone.”
She looked at him for a minute. “All right. I could do with some eggs. Been to La Fonda yet? Oh, I forgot, you’ve just arrived. Better see it, then. Come on,” she said, turning to her left, “it’s just up the street. They say it’s the best hotel in town. Which wouldn’t be hard. They also say the barman’s a spy-you know, one of your lot. FBI or whatever you’re calling yourselves these days.”
“Is he a good bartender, at least?”
“I suppose so. Actually, he’s probably just some nice little man. Everybody looking and pointing and putting their hands over their mouths-probably doesn’t have the faintest idea. Almost worth it to stick around after the war to see if he does go back to Washington or just keeps wiping down the bar.”
They had huevos rancheros at a table near the window, flooded with sun.
“Where will you go after the war?” Connolly said.
“You mean, where’s home? London, I suppose. It really depends on Daniel-my husband. Maybe he’ll stay here, assuming there’s anything to stay for. I don’t know. He could go back to the Cavendish, but perish that.”
“Why? It’s the best lab in England.”
“Yes, and think of all those lovely Sunday lunches on the Maddingly Road. Dreary old dons and watery sprouts and one glass of bad sherry. Sounds like I’m obsessed with drink, doesn’t it?”
“Sounds like you’d need it there.”
“You’re right. Not Blighty, then. Where?”
“But your husband’s not English.”
“He is now. By marriage, anyway. You mean the name. He was Polish. A Polish Jew. That’s twice nothing now, so he’ll have to be English, won’t he?”
“Where did you meet?”
“In Berlin. He was at the KWI.” She answered his unspoken question. “Sorry. I forgot you’re not an ‘engineer.’ Kaiser Wilhelm Institute. He worked with Lise Meitner.”
Connolly raised his eyebrows appreciatively.
“Yes, he’s quite a boy,” she said. “Look, did you ask me to lunch to talk about my husband? I’m not fishing, but I could think of a hundred more flattering things.”
“Such as?”
“Well, you could say you wish I didn’t have one, for a start.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” she said evenly.
He looked back at her. “At least we have that established.”
“Deftly, too, I hope you noticed.”
“I don’t miss much.”
“Then don’t miss that.”
“I suppose that’s by way of letting me down gently?”
She smiled. “Is there such a thing? Look, I’m a hopeless flirt. I can’t help it, I was brought up that way. We all were, in my set. Here I am now, being blinded by this light and still hung over, and I wouldn’t dream of picking up these sunglasses. It wouldn’t be polite to the man, you see. But you’ll have to settle for the charm. It doesn’t go any further.”
“Got it. It’s just eggs, you know,” he said, gesturing to the plate.
“It’s never just eggs. Now, tell me about you.”
“That’s not even subtle,” he said, smiling.
“Tell me anyway. What did you do before the war?”
