Howard nodded.
I felt my stomach clutch. Zack and I exchanged glances. “So what’s my role here?” Zack said.
“It’s no secret that the lady and I didn’t get along, and Kathryn Morrissey was murdered.”
Zack put his hand up in a halt gesture. “Stop right there. For one thing, Joanne’s in the room, and lawyer-client privilege won’t extend to her. For another, I don’t know what your involvement is, but if you’re in deep, there are a number of reasons why you’d get better representation from someone other than me. I can give you a name.”
“Let’s hear it,” Howard said.
“Margot Wright. She’s an excellent trial lawyer and given that the victim is female and you’re male, Margot’s your best option. Do you want me to make the call?”
Howard nodded.
Zack picked up his cell, and within minutes it was settled. Howard asked us to stay until Margot arrived, then, in a gesture that was unprecedented when there was a woman around, he went into the kitchen to make coffee.
I went to Zack and rested my hands on his shoulders. “I’m glad you suggested another lawyer.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Even if it was Margot?”
“Even if it was Margot.”
“Good, because to be honest, I haven’t got the stomach for this one. Usually, I get a real rush when I smell a red-meat case, but not this time. I know too much, and everything I know makes me sad.”
“Me too,” I said. “So we’ll introduce Howard and Margot and go back to our measuring?”
“Let’s give it a shot. I’d rather watch our house take shape than spend fourteen hours a day working on a murder case.”
“I can’t believe those words are coming out of your mouth.”
“Neither can I,” he said. “I guess the Statue of Liberty is inching towards Lake Ontario, after all.”
Howard came back with a pot of coffee – real coffee on a tray, a carton of half-and-half, a bowl of sugar, and four mugs that appeared to be clean. Then he went to the window and threw open the drapes. “Nobody’s going to tell us what’s happening. We’re going to have to find out for ourselves.”
Howard’s timing was impeccable. Zack had just moved closer to the window when the EMS crew came out with a gurney bearing a body in a body bag. My knees began to shake. Zack reached his arm around my legs to steady me.
Howard spoke for us all. “Such a small bundle to cause so much grief.”
The three of us were silent as the gurney was loaded into the ambulance, and the ambulance drove off. It was impossible not to be stunned by the horror of what was unfolding, but the ceremony of dealing with the coffee helped. I poured three mugs full. “Who found the body, Howard?” I asked.
He dumped a heaping soup-spoon full of sugar into his mug and stirred. “I overheard one of the cops say it was her kid.”
“Kathryn never mentioned that she had a child,” I said.
“And I never saw a kid there,” Howard said. “Must have been pretty quiet.”
At that moment, a sleek black BMW made its way through the barricades and sidled up to Zack’s car.
“Here’s Margot,” Zack said.
Margot had a few words with the cops outside and then, briefcase in hand, she marched ahead. Her blonde hair was casually tousled, as if by a friendly wind; her lipstick was very red, and her open camel-hair coat revealed a creamy form-fitting dress that clung to a form that deserved to be clung to. Zack performed the introductions. When it came to me, his smile was playful. “I believe you two have met,” he said.
Margot’s eyes found mine. “Not my finest hour,” she said.
“Nor mine,” I said, extending my hand.
Margot took my hand. “Congratulations,” she said. “I mean that. I hope you and Zack will be very happy. Now if there’s nothing else … Mr. Dowhanuik and I need to talk.”
“Is that all right with you, Howard?” Zack asked.
Howard grunted assent.
Margot reached into her bag and removed a tiny red leather case. She opened it and handed me her business card. “If there’s anything I should know about, give me a call. Zack has my unlisted number.”
“Sounds like the bases are covered,” Zack said. “Ready to go, Joanne?”
“Just a minute.” Howard beckoned me over. “Tell Charlie everything will be okay,” he growled.
Zack had to steer the Jaguar carefully to get through the onlookers and media trucks that had begun to assemble outside the barricades. I felt a twinge of guilt when I spotted the NationTV van, and an even bigger twinge when I saw Brette Sinclair pushing her way through the crowd. That said, I’d had enough. When we stopped at the corner to let a young mother with a jogging stroller cross, Zack turned to me. “So do you think Howard killed Kathryn Morrissey?”
“No, but I wish I knew what he and Margot were chatting about. What did you make of him asking me to tell Charlie that everything will be okay?”
Zack shrugged. “It’s certainly a statement ripe for interpretation. Could mean ‘don’t worry about me.’ Could mean ‘don’t worry about Kathryn’s murder because I’ve got it covered.’ ”
