”In New York, in what might be called the course of my profession,“ and off she went. She told it all, in a quiet, uninflected voice the way you might read a story to a child when you’d read it too often. Carol Curtis was a professional.
She did not bat one of her thick-lashed eyes after the opening sentence. She asked very little. She understood her subject and she let Linda Rabb talk.
When it was over, she said, ”And why are you telling me this?“
Linda Rabb said, ”I’ve lived with it too long. I don’t want a secret that will come along and haunt me, later, maybe when my son is older, maybe…“ She let it hang.
Listening, I had the feeling that she had given a real reason.
Not the only reason, but a real one.
”Does your husband know?“
”He knows everything.“
”Where is he now?“
”At the park.“
”Does he know about this… ah… confession?“
”Yes, he does,“ Linda said without hesitation.
”And he approves?“
”Absolutely,“ Linda said.
”Mrs. Rabb,“ Carol Curtis said. And Linda Rabb shook her head.
”That’s all,“ she said. ”I’m sorry. Mr. Spenser represents me and anything else to be said about this he will say.“
Then she sat still with her hands folded in her lap and looked at me and Carol Curtis sitting on the couch.
I said, ”No comment,“ and Carol Curtis smiled.
”I bet you’ll say that often in the future when we talk, won’t you?“
”No comment,“ I said.
”Why is a private detective representing Mrs. Rabb in this? Why not a lawyer or a PR man or perhaps a husband?“
”No comment,“ I said. And Carol Curtis said it silently along with me, nodding her head as she did so. She closed the notebook and stood up.
”Nice talking with you, Spenser,“ she said, and put out her hand. We shook. ”Don’t get up,“ she said. Then she turned to Linda Rabb.
”Mrs. Rabb,“ she said and put out her hand. Linda Rabb took it, and held it for a moment. ”You are a saint, Mrs.
Rabb. Not a sinner. That’s the way I’ll write this story.“
Linda Rabb said, ”Thank you.“
”You are also,“ Carol Curtis said, ”a hell of a woman.“
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WHEN CAROL CURTIS LEFT, I said to Linda Rabb, Shall I stay with you?”
“I would rather be by myself,” she said.
“Okay, but I want to call Harold Erskine and tell him what’s coming. I took some of his money and I don’t want him blindsided by this. I probably better resign his employ too.”
She nodded.
“I’ll call him from my office,” I said. “Would you like me around when you tell Marty?”
“No,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I think this will work, kiddo,” I said. “If you hear from Maynard, I want to know, right off. Okay?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“You know what Carol Curtis said to you?”
She nodded.
“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”
She smiled at me slightly and didn’t move. I let myself out of the apartment and left her sitting on her ottoman.
Looking, as far as I could tell, at nothing at all.
I caught a cab to my office and called Harold Erskine.
I told him what Linda Rabb had said in the papers and that it was likely to be on the street in the morning. I
