'I keep learning more and more, and knowing less and less,' I said. 'You're sure you can't think of anyone at all that knew of Walter's DNA testing?'
'Me, Walter, and Dr. Klein,' Dolly said. 'I can't believe Walter told anyone but me. He was very secretive. Dr. Klein didn't even tell me.'
'Walter told you?'
'Yes. He called me-the night before he died, as a matter of fact-and told me. He was quite excited about it.'
'Dr. Klein have a relationship with anyone in the Clive family?' I said.
Dolly was silent for a moment, as if examining something she'd never seen before. Then she smiled.
'I do believe that Larry might have had a little fling with the Hippie.'
'Sherry Lark?'
'Or whatever her name is this week,' Dolly said.
'How recent a fling?'
Dolly smiled some more.
'Did you ever see the play Same Time Next Year?'
'I know the premise,' I said.
'Well, it's like that, sort of, I think. Larry and the Hippie would gather occasionally, when she came to Lamarr to see her daughters, or when Larry went to San Francisco to a medical conference.'
'He's married.'
'Yes,' Dolly said. 'And happily, as far as I can tell. I think Sherry was his walk on the wild side, and God knows he would have been discreet about it.'
'How do you know about it?' I said.
Dolly smiled widely, and there was a small flush on her lovely cheekbones. She didn't say anything. Larry Klein, you dog.
'Do you think they might still be, ah, relating?' I said.
'If they were, I assume they still are.'
'Possibly… Men sometimes reveal confidences to women with whom they are sleeping,' I said.
'Really?' Dolly said. 'I'm shocked. Shocked, I tell you.'
I went to find Susan.
FIFTY-THREE
I GOT TO Lamarr with the taste of lipstick from Susan's goodbye kiss no longer lingering, but its memory still insistent. Back in my old digs at the Holiday Inn Lamarr, I unpacked my toothbrush and bullets, slept the night, and at seven the next morning was in the hospital cafeteria with Larry Klein, M.D.
'How are things going?' Klein said as he organized a couple of sausage biscuits on his plate.
'Curiouser and curiouser,' I said. 'Do you know Sherry Lark?'
Klein smiled.
'Since she was Sherry Clive,' he said.
'Have you seen her recently?'
Klein shrugged, and bit into a biscuit.
'You ask a noncommittal question,' I said, 'you get a noncommittal answer. When's the last time you saw Sherry?'
'Wow, that sounds a little coppish,' Klein said. 'I thought we were pals.'
'I am a little coppish,' I said. 'And there's a point at which I'm nobody's pal.'
'This the point?'
'It's past the point. When did you see her last?'
'May, I think. She came to my office.'
'And got right in?' I said.
'We're old friends.'
'Social visit?'
'She thought she had a cold. She didn't. She had a seasonal allergy. I gave her some antihistamine samples I had.'
'You mention Walter Clive?'
Klein stared at me. I could feel him starting to close down.
'I don't remember. I might have. He's a friend, she's a friend, they used to be married.'
