Horne stood up. “Stay right here.”
He was back in five minutes with the book, which he slid across the table. “Be my guest.”
I flipped to the index and found the page with the epistle to Richard Boyle. After a moment, I looked up.
“She’s marked two passages: ‘Oft have you hinted to your brother peer, / A certain truth, which many buy too dear.’”
“Go on.”
“This is from a different part of the epistle.” I cleared my throat and continued:
“Very nice.” He was no longer bothering to hide his skepticism. “What the hell’s it mean?”
“According to what we found out last night, Pope used this poem to poke fun at the ostentatious home of a nobleman he knew, calling it vulgar and over the top. The guy figured out Pope was mocking him and it got Pope in hot water,” I said. “This passage refers to that estate—or the gardens on the estate.”
“And the estate of this—what’d you call him?—‘nobleman’ fits into your puzzle how?” He sat back in his chair, which creaked. “This house is in England, isn’t it? And all those people are dead?”
“Yes, but perhaps she was referring to some place in Washington,” I said. “Some place where there’s a dry fountain and manicured gardens. A park, perhaps.”
“And what, exactly, would we find there?”
“I don’t know. Something that would have buttressed Ian Philips’s testimony. Documents. Evidence on an external computer drive.”
Horne reached over and closed the book, sliding it to his side of the table.
“We’ll look into it,” he said. “In the meantime, I’ve got one homicide with no body and a suspicious death that doesn’t look like murder but smells bad. Fountains and parks are kind of low priority on my list.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. He thought I was going to tell him about little green men next.
“What about me?” I asked. “Am I free to go?”
“Your story checks out, so yeah, you can go. A neighbor saw you leave from that alley when you said you did. She said Philips stood out there and waited until you’d gone.”
“Really? I never saw anyone.”
“Be glad she was there. Gave you an alibi.”
“I am. But I don’t understand why Ian didn’t lock the gate after I left. He had to unlock it to let us in when we got there and again when I left.”
“Maybe he was so wasted he forgot. Or he opened it to someone he knew and never got a chance to lock it again,” Horne said. “Did he say anything about more company coming by later on?”
“No,” I said, “but he did say he’d been getting phone calls in the middle of the night from someone who never said anything. Just waited on the other end.”
“We’re checking his phone records.”
Detective Horne stood up and opened the door. “Thanks, Ms. Montgomery. If there’s anything else, I know where to reach you.”
I retrieved my cane and my purse.
“What happened to the homeless man you arrested?” I asked. “Can you tell me anything else about the search for Rebecca?”
“I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation,” he said. “As for your friend, I can tell you that yesterday the operation went from search and rescue to recovery. I’m sorry, but there’s no way she survived four days in that river. We’re just looking for her body now.”
I imagined divers and boats plying the Potomac looking for remains, rather than a person, after the catfish and critters had gotten to her, and felt ill.
“Do you think you’ll find her?”
“Eventually.” His voice was kinder. “They usually turn up. The river doesn’t keep ’em forever, except every once and awhile.”
Horne walked me to the bank of elevators and left me there. We’d passed a clock as he took me through the squad room. I’d been here just over an hour and a half, but it felt more like years.
Were Rebecca and Ian’s deaths linked? And what about Rebecca? I still wasn’t sure that she hadn’t faked her own death and fled somewhere. The common link between them was Thomas Asher Investments.
But what, exactly, was that link?
Chapter 14
It was just after noon when I left police headquarters. In a nearby courtyard, a hot dog vendor was doing a brisk business with the lunchtime crowd. Now that the butterflies in my stomach were gone, I was starved. I joined the queue of men and women in business suits and officers in uniform. This part of D.C. wasn’t for tourists; everyone waiting in line worked in the nearby courts or for the local government or at MPD.
“Lucie?”
It had been a dozen years since I’d seen Linh Natale on the Mother’s Day weekend of her daughter’s graduation. She had been etched in my memory as the joyous, exuberant woman who looked and acted more like Rebecca’s older sister than her mother. Now her beautiful dark hair was streaked with gray and her face was pinched with age and grief. For a moment I thought Rebecca’s spirit had returned from the future.
“Mrs. Natale? I’m so sorry—”
Her eyes filled. I put my arms around her and felt her shoulders shake as she clung to me.
“I should have called,” I said into her hair. “I feel awful.”
She didn’t speak. After a long moment she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“It’s okay.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m glad to see you, my dear. A familiar face. It’s been too long.”
“Where’s Mr. Natale?” I asked. “You’re not here by yourself, are you?”
“He’s at home. Boston. He’s not well.” Her hand rested on her heart. “This dreadful news hasn’t helped.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She shrugged with the weary resignation of someone running out of options. “Pray for a miracle. I think that’s all we have left.”
She looked me over—including the cane. I saw the same fleeting look of shock that had been in Rebecca’s eyes.
“Why are you here? Is it about Rebecca?” she asked.
There was a faint note of hope in her voice. I smiled, feeling bleak, unwilling to be the bearer of more bad news. If Rebecca had gone out with Ian for a while, I suspected Linh Natale would know him.
“Not exactly.”
She reached in the pocket of her coat and pulled out a crumpled tissue. “Then what is it? Please, Lucie. Anything you can tell me will be of help.”
The queue at the hot dog stand had advanced.
“Are you in line?” A dark-haired man in a sharp suit tapped me on the shoulder.
“Yes.” I turned to Mrs. Natale. “Have you eaten? Can I buy you a hot dog and perhaps we could talk somewhere?”
