«…and I never miss your broadcasts,» Joan Sinisi was saying softly. «I think you're wonderful.»
«Thank you.»
«I remember when you were broadcasting from Sarajevo with all those terrible bombs and guns going off. I was always afraid something was going to happen to you.»
«To be honest, so was I.»
«It must have been a horrible experience.»
«Yes, in one way it was.»
Greta came in with a tray of tea and cakes. She set it on the table in front of the two women.
«I'll pour,» Joan Sinisi said.
Dana watched as she poured the tea.
«Would you like a cake?»
«No, thanks.»
Joan Sinisi handed Dana a cup of tea, then poured a cup for herself. «As I said, I'm really delighted to meet you, but I—I can't imagine what you want to talk to me about.»
«I wanted to talk to you about Taylor Winthrop.»
Joan Sinisi gave a start and some of the tea spilled on her lap. Her face had gone white.
«Are you all right?»
«Yes, I'm—I'm fine.» She dabbed at her skirt with a napkin. «I—I didn't know that you wanted…» Her voice trailed off.
The atmosphere had suddenly changed. Dana said, «You were Taylor Winthrop's secretary, weren't you?»
Joan Sinisi said carefully, «Yes. But I left Mr. Winthrop's employ a year ago. I'm afraid I can't help you.» The woman was almost trembling.
Dana said soothingly, «I've heard such good things about Taylor Winthrop. I just wondered if you could add to them?»
Joan Sinisi looked relieved. «Oh, yes, of course I can. Mr. Winthrop was a great man.»
«How long did you work for him?»
«Almost three years.»
Dana smiled. «It must have been a wonderful experience.»
«Yes, yes, it was, Miss Evans.» She sounded much more relaxed.
«But you brought a lawsuit against him.»
The fear was back in Joan Sinisi's eyes. «No—I mean yes. But it was a mistake, you see. I made a mistake.»
«What kind of mistake?»
Joan Sinisi swallowed. «I—I misunderstood something Mr. Winthrop said to someone. I behaved very foolishly. I'm ashamed of myself.»
«You sued, but you didn't take him to court?»
«No. He—we settled the lawsuit. It was nothing.»
Dana glanced around the penthouse. «I see. Can you tell me what the settlement was?»
«No, I'm afraid I can't,» Joan Sinisi said. «It's all very confidential.»
Dana wondered what it could have been that made this timid woman bring a lawsuit against a titan like Taylor Winthrop and why she was terrified to talk about it. What was she afraid of?
There was a long silence. Joan Sinisi was watching Dana, and Dana had the feeling that she wanted to say something.
«Miss Sinisi—»
Joan Sinisi rose. «I'm sorry I can't be more—if there's nothing else, Miss Evans…»
«I understand,» Dana said.
I wish I did.
He put the tape into the machine and pressed the start button.
I—I misunderstood something Mr. Winthrop said to someone. I behaved very foolishly. I'm ashamed of myself.
You sued, but you didn't take him to court?
No. He—we settled the lawsuit. It was nothing.
I see. Can you tell me what the settlement was?
No, I'm afraid I can't. It's all very confidential.
Miss Sinisi—
I'm sorry I can't be more—if there's nothing else, Miss Evans…
I understand.
Tape ends.
It had begun.
Dana had made arrangements for a real estate broker to show her apartments, but it was a wasted morning. Dana and the broker covered Georgetown, Dupont Circle, and the Adams-Morgan district. The apartments were too small, or too large, or too expensive. By noon, Dana was ready to give up.
«Don't worry,» the real estate agent said reassuringly. «We'll find exactly what you're looking for.»
«I hope so,» Dana said. And soon.
Dana could not get Joan Sinisi out of her mind. What did she have on Taylor Winthrop that would make him pay her off with a penthouse and God only knew what else? She wanted to tell me something, Dana thought. I'm sure of it. I have to talk to her again.
Dana telephoned Joan Sinisi's apartment. Greta answered: «Good afternoon.»
«Greta, this is Dana Evans. I'd like to speak to Miss Sinisi, please.»
«I'm sorry. Miss Sinisi is not taking any calls.»
«Well, would you tell her that it's Dana Evans, and I need—»
«I'm sorry, Miss Evans. Miss Sinisi is not available.» The line went dead.
The following morning Dana dropped Kemal off at school. In a frozen sky, a pale sun was trying to come out. On street corners all over the city, the same faux Santa Clauses were ringing their charity bells.
I must find an apartment for the three of us before New Year's Eve, Dana thought.
When Dana got to the studio, she spent the morning in a conference with the news staff, discussing which stories to go with and the locations they needed to have taped. There was a story of a particularly brutal unsolved murder, and Dana thought of the Winthrops.
She called Joan Sinisi's number again.
«Good afternoon.»
«Greta, it's very important that I talk to Miss Sinisi. Tell her that Dana Evans—»
«She won't talk to you, Miss Evans.» The line went dead.
What is going on? Dana wondered.
Dana went in to see Matt Baker. Abbe Lasmann greeted her.
«Congratulations! I understand the wedding date is all set.»
Dana smiled. «Yes.»
Abbe sighed. «What a romantic proposal.»
«That's my fella.»
«Dana, our Advice to the Lovelorn columnist said that after the wedding, you should go out and buy a couple bags of canned groceries and stash them in the trunk of your car.»
«Why on earth…?»
«She says that one day down the road, you might decide to have a little extracurricular fun and get home late. When Jeff asks where you've been, you just show him the bags and say, “Shopping.” He'll—»
