And that had been only half of the exciting day!
Katie and Francine had viewed five houses and considered two as barely possible. Much more touring was planned.
Could they show me anything? I asked.
Of course! There were glossy photographs of stately estates and massive manors. I timed myself to look through them for at least three minutes and forty-five seconds.
“Harriet said it’s a wonderful time to be looking. There’s quite a bit on the market.”
So Katie would have plenty to do. I thanked her for her hard work and encouraged her to keep it up. She needed very little encouraging.
“And you can keep going with her,” I said to Francine, “if you’ll be civil. You could use the exercise.”
“I’m always civil, to her,” Francine said.
“Is she?” I asked Katie.
“Of course. You might try it yourself.”
But we were really all happy. Katie was buying a new house, Francine was having some excitement, Eric was feeling loved, and I had something of my own to look forward to.
“I’m going out of town this weekend,” I said. “Down to Washington, on business. Just by myself.”
11
I hadn’t heard from Fred by Friday morning. If Stan’s lackey had not yet penetrated to Clinton Grainger, he surely would before the sun set.
I kissed Katie as she rushed out the door, made three business-related calls, and packed and carried my suitcase out to my car.
But the drive to the airport was interrupted. I pulled off the road as my phone rang, as it would be a distracting call.
“Come into town at once,” Fred ordered. Stan’s lackey had been successful. If only I could get my own lackey to be as subservient.
“I’m on my way out of town.”
“Grainger is sitting in front of me.” In my chair, probably. Now what to do? This was more of a reaction than we’d expected.
Fred had said it himself-don’t talk with the man unless I was ready to deal. Well, I might as well talk to him.
“Okay, Fred. It’ll take me a half hour. Keep him happy.”
“Neither of us is happy.”
That Fred, such a clown. As I turned the car and headed back, I thought about the jovial Uncle Fred of my youth. One week had erased that fraud quite thoroughly. I called the charter office at the airport and told them I’d be late.
Thirty-seven minutes later I stepped out of the elevator onto the thirtieth floor. Fred’s office door was at the end of the hall. I decided they hadn’t waited long enough.
If I hadn’t been in a hurry to get on with my trip, I would have waited longer than five minutes. But finally their impatience was rewarded and I made my entrance into their gloomy den.
No pleasantries were exchanged.
“Mr. Grainger has been asking me about a newspaper reporter,” Fred announced, pretending ignorance. Grainger just turned to stare at me.
I sat on the sofa. “What’s your question?” I asked the watery eyes.
“Are you threatening the governor?” they asked back.
“It seemed the governor was threatening me.”
Pause. Hard thinking. “This is dangerous,” Grainger answered.
“I didn’t start it.”
“Your father did.”
“Not this round.”
Pause again. More hard thinking, this time with wrinkled brow. “Are you serious?”
It was time for sentences with more than five words. “It’s been two weeks since Melvin died. I’ve only been on this job for five days. I think the governor needs to back off until I’ve had time to make some rational plans. Otherwise I’ll do something irrational. A friend told me I was a bull in a china shop, and I’d consider the governor a big Ming vase right in the middle of the aisle.”
“I can’t call off a murder investigation,” Grainger said.
Good, we were communicating. “Do you have any real evidence that Melvin was murdered? Or have you fabricated it all?”
“Do you have any evidence that the governor is corrupt?”
“Boxes of it.”
Spit it out, Clinton. Was the old man really murdered?
“I believe the evidence was not conclusive,” he said.
“Give me a straight answer.”
“I don’t know.” A little frustration, perhaps? “A routine investigation had already been started. Detective Wilcox was directed to make sure something was found. I don’t know whether the evidence was fabricated or not.”
“Then un-fabricate it.”
“I can’t interfere with the state police.”
“Then I’ll give my boxes to the FBI, and I know you can’t interfere with them.”
“I’ll discuss this with the governor.”
I’d been in the room less than four minutes before he left. I like efficient people.
Fred glared at the door as it closed behind his guest. Then he glared at me. But not as angrily.
“You told me you wouldn’t negotiate.”
“I’m not. I’m dictating.”
“It seems to come to you quite naturally.”
“It’s in my blood.”
He shrugged. “The risk of real conflict is now very high, and it is your fault. You handled the conversation reasonably well, though.”
“Thank you, I guess.”
He nodded. “Yes. You are hotheaded and impatient, but I can see the same instincts your father had.”
“I take back the thank-you.”
He only smiled. “You are leaving town?”
“I’ll call you Sunday night, when I get back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Washington. I’m taking a vacation.”
Fred was suspicious. “What is in Washington?”
“There are museums.”
He didn’t buy it. “Why are you going to Washington?” He was asking a lot of questions.
“Melvin lived there twelve years. I want to see the townhouse. It was a second home when I was in college.”
He was still not satisfied. “I don’t believe you are going for sentimental reasons.”
“I don’t care what you believe.”
“Are you meeting with anyone?”
I was choosing to not be annoyed by the interrogation. “I’m not planning to. I just want to get away. I haven’t had time to think this week.”
Fred’s gears were cranking. “Meet with Forrester.”