The knife show was held on the mezzanine floor of the hotel. The main room was a large hall, filled with long exhibition tables arranged along aisles, occupied by hundreds of knifemakers from all over the country who had brought their wares to sell. At first Jess and Fran explored together; then they split up so each girl could look at the knives that most interested her. When Fran rejoined Jess, she sensed her friend was upset.
'I asked her if something was the matter,' Fran told Janek as they crossed in front of Butler Library. 'She shook her head, said it wasn't anything. I went along. What else could I do? But I didn't believe her. As I'm sure you know, Jess was not a moody type of girl. But something must have gotten to her because she started out so exuberant, but when we met up at the door, she was downcast, almost sullen.' 'What did you do after the show?'
'Took the subway uptown, worked out for an hour with foils in the gym, then showered and went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant on Broadway and a Hundred and Nineteenth. '
'Anything unusual happen?'
'Nothing I can think of.'
'Did either of you buy a knife?'
Fran nodded. 'Jess did. A real beauty, a switchblade with an ivory handle. It wasn't legal. The man who made it was very cautious about showing it to us.' She smiled. 'Jess told me you'd give her hell if you ever found out she bought it.' A switchblade-why on earth?
'I didn't find it when I searched her dorm room,' Janek said.
'Maybe she dropped it off at her mother's. If I knew Jess, she probably hid it someplace.'
Janck thought about hiding places. 'Something I want to ask you.'
Fran peered at him. 'I'll help you as best I can.'
'First, close your eyes.' Fran obeyed. 'Now think of two women fencing. Imagine them topless, both of them.' 'Uh-huh…
'Think about it. Does the image remind you of anything?'
Fran shook her head. But Janek felt something tentative in her denial.
'Does it embarrass you?'
Fran blushed. 'It is kind of wild.'
She's not a very good liar, Janek thought.
'I found photos of Jess and another girl fencing like that. they were hidden in Jess's closet.'
He stared at Fran, waiting for her to respond. When she looked away, he stopped walking and gently touched her cheek.
'Please understand,' he said. 'I need to know everything.'
'Yeah…' Fran took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was agitated and her delivery faster than before.
'There's a painting by a French artist, t,mile Bayard. It's called An Affair of Honor. Jess found it in one of her books about dueling. It shows two topless women fighting with rapiers while three other women look on. Jess was intrigued by it-I don't know why. She was equally intrigued by a whole slew of stories she dug up on women duelists. She told me she wanted to write a paper about them for some feminist-oriented European history course she was taking.'
'But there's more to it, isn't there, Fran? Did she ask you to fence topless with her?' Fran nodded. 'I didn't want to. For one thing it's dangerous. For another… I just didn't like the idea. So I told her: 'I'm a jock, but I'm not that hutch.' I think she understood.'
'Did you take her proposal as a sexual overture?'
Fran shook her head. 'If Jess was inclined that way, she never showed it. No, I think it was just something she wanted to do.
Fencing, fighting-those were things she loved. In some way, I guess, the image turned her on. And once she got it into her head, she wanted to act it out. Janek showed Fran the Polaroids. Fran could not identify the other girl, nor did she recognize the room where the pictures had been taken.
'I wonder if it's a fencing, salon at the Ruspoli Academy in Italy. Fran was there last summer. It's certainly not any practice room we use around here.'
'A final question,' Janek said. 'Did Jess do or say anything that Sunday, anything at all, that made you think she might be afraid.'
Fran shook her head. 'I don't think Jess was afraid of anything.
That's why she was such a terrific fencer. I remember something she said to me once: 'I'll take life any way it comes.' I think if she saw someone running toward her with an ice pick, she'd have put up a terrific fight. She knew karate. She could disarm a man twice her weight. So whoever killed her must have come at her from behind, and the only reason she didn't hear him coming was that she had her Walkman turned up at the time.'
Aaron's interviews convinced him that none of the members of the Greg Gale crowd had harbored any ill will toward Jess.
'They're not murderous types, Frank. Just your standard spoiled, overeducated, decadent, attractive young people with a hunger for dope and thrills. Actually they don't do that much drugs. Mostly pot, occasionally a little coke. to them the sex group's good clean fun, not a cult they'd kill to protect.'
Aaron had looked into former boyfriends, too. Except for Gale they all seemed to be jocks.
'Maybe not the brightest guys, but most of them fairly decent. She didn't like pretentious or overstudious types.'
Simionov, the fencing coach, had told Janek pretty much the same thing:
'She talked straight and she fenced straight and she liked straight-talking people. If she'd lived, who knows how far she might have gone? Bronze medal, maybe even silver.' The coach had shaken his head with grief. 'She had everything: talent, will, strength and speed, and as fierce a fighting spirit as I ever encountered in a woman. Who knows? With a little luck she might have gone all the way.'
Fran Dunning phoned Janek two days after their walk.
'You said I should call you if I remembered anything.
Good girl! 'What do you remember?'
'Something Jess said at the Chinese restaurant. It's probably not important, but I thought I should tell you anyway. She said she might have to stop seeing her shrink.'
Interesting. 'Did she say why?'
'No. But I'm sure the reason wasn't financial because she once told me her stepfather was paying the fees. I wouldn't remember her mentioning it except the week before she'd been very positive about her therapist.'
'Try and recall her exact words, Fran? Did she say she might have to stop or that she wanted to quit?' 'I don't remember exactly. But I had the feeling that she was disgusted about something, that whatever it was, it was gnawing at her, and that if she stopped seeing her therapist, it would be at her initiative.' Fran paused. 'I could be wrong, Lieutenant, but that's what I thought at the time.'
Janek thanked Fran and reminded her to call him again if she remembered anything more. When he put down the phone, he thought about what she'd said. Jess's comment could have been a casual remark, but still he was glad he knew about it. He'd been looking,for an excuse to see Dr. Archer again. This time, he resolved, he would limit the discussion to her former patient.
The therapist had set their appointment for 5:00 P.m. As before, she appeared at the door of her waiting room precisely on the hour.
'Nice to see you again, Lieutenant. You have fifty minutes,' she announced with a sympathetic smile.
As Janek followed her into the consulting room, he noticed that her curly red hair was dyed.
'Now, how may I help you?' Dr. Archer began smiling again after they were seated in opposing chairs. 'Jess tried to get in touch with me two days before she was killed. Any idea why?'
Archer shook her head. 'I have no idea, and I can't imagine why you'd ask me that.'
'Her father and I were partners once. Laura Dorance thinks Jess might have wanted to ask me about him. Did she talk about him much in here?'
The psychologist looked pained. 'As I told you before, Lieutenant, even though Jessica has passed away, I don't feel I can properly discuss her therapy.'
'Look, Dr. Archer, I'm conducting a criminal investigation. Right now I need your help. If you refuse to give it to me, then I'm faced with a problem. I can write you off as an unhelpful witness or I can seek a court order to
