«I'm Dana Evans. I'm doing a story for station WTN in Washington, D. C., about the Winthrop family. I understand that Paul Winthrop was killed in an accident around here?»
«Oui. Terrible! Terrible. One must be so careful driving the Grande Corniche. It can betres dangereux. »
«I heard that Paul Winthrop was killed during a race and—»
«Non. There was no race that day.»
«There wasn't?»
«Non, mademoiselle. I myself was personally on duty when the accident occurred.»
«I see. Was Mr. Winthrop in his car alone?»
«Oui.»
«Commandant Frasier, did they do an autopsy?»
«Oui. Of course.»
«Was there any alcohol in Paul Winthrop's blood?»
Commandant Frasier shook his head. «Non.»
«Drugs?»
«Non.»
«Do you remember what the weather was like that day?»
«Oui. Il pleuvait. It made rain.»
Dana had one last question, but she asked it without any hope. «I don't suppose there were any witnesses?»
«Mais oui, il y en avait.»
Dana was staring at him, her pulse quickening. «There were?»
«One witness. He was driving behind Winthrop's car and saw the accident happen.»
Dana felt a quick sense of excitement. «I would appreciate it very much if you would give me the witness's name,» Dana said. «I want to talk to him.»
He nodded. «I see no harm.» He called out, «Alexandre!» and a moment later his assistant came hurrying in.
«Oui, Commandant?»
«Apportez-moi le dossier de l'accident Winthrop.»
«Tout de suite.»He hurried out of the room.
Commandant Frasier turned to Dana. «Such an unfortunate family. Life istres fragile. » He looked at Dana and smiled. «One must take one's pleasure when he can.» He added subtly, «Or whenshe can. Are you alone here, mademoiselle ?»
«No, my husband and children are waiting for me.»
«Dommage.»
Commandant Frasier's assistant returned with a sheaf of papers and the commandant scanned the papers, nodded, and looked up at Dana.
«The witness to the accident was an American tourist, Ralph Benjamin. According to his statement, he was driving behind Paul Winthrop when he saw achien —a dog—run in front of Winthrop's car. Winthrop turned the wheel to not hit him, went into a big skid, and plunged off the cliff and crashed into the sea. According to the coroner's report, Winthrop died instantly.»
«Do you have Mr. Benjamin's address?» Dana asked hopefully.
«Oui.»He glanced at the paper again. «He lives in America. Richfield, Utah. Four-twenty Turk Street.» Commandant Frasier wrote the address down and handed it to Dana.
She tried hard to control her excitement. «Thank you so much.»
«Avec plaisir.»He looked at Dana's bare ring finger. «And, madame ?»
«Yes?»
«Say hello to your husband and children for me.»
Dana telephoned Matt.
«Matt,» she said excitedly. «I found a witness to Paul Winthrop's accident. I'm going to interview him.»
«That's great. Where is he?»
«In Utah. Richfield. I should be back in Washington right after that.»
«All right. By the way, Jeff called.»
«Yes?»
«You know he's in Florida with his ex-wife.» He sounded disapproving.
«I know. She's very ill.»
«If Jeff stays away much longer, I'm going to have to ask him to take a leave of absence.»
«I'm sure he'll be back very soon.» She wished she believed it.
«Right. Good luck with the witness.»
«Thanks, Matt.»
Dana's next call was to Kemal. Mrs. Daley answered the phone.
«Miss Evans's residence.»
«Good evening, Mrs. Daley. Is everything all right there?» Dana was holding her breath.
«Well, your son almost burned down the kitchen helping me cook dinner last night.» She laughed. «But other than that, he's fine.»
Dana said a silent prayer of thanks. «That's great.»The woman really is a miracle worker, Dana thought.
«Will you be coming home now? I can prepare dinner and—»
«I have to make one more stop,» Dana said. «I'll be home in two days. May I talk to Kemal?»
«He's asleep. Shall I wake him up?»
«No, no.» Dana looked at her watch. It was only four o'clock in Washington. «He's taking a nap?»
She heard Mrs. Daley's warm laugh. «Yes. The lad has had a long day. He's working hard, and he's playing hard.»
«You give him my love. I'll see him soon.»
I have to make one more stop. I'll be home in two days. May I talk to Kemal?
He's asleep. Shall I wake him up?
No, no. He's taking a nap?
Yes. The lad has had a long day. He's working hard, and he's playing hard.
You give him my love. I'll see him soon.
Tape ends.
Richfield, Utah, is a comfortable, residential town set in a bowl in the middle of the Monroe mountain range. Dana stopped at a filling station and got directions to the address Commandant Frasier had given her.
Ralph Benjamin's home was a weatherbeaten one-story house that stood in the middle of a block of identical houses.
Dana parked the rental car, walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. The door opened and a middle-aged white-haired woman in an apron stood there. «Can I help you?»
«I would like to see Ralph Benjamin,» Dana said.
The woman studied Dana curiously. «Is he expecting you?»
«No. I—I just happened to be passing by, and I thought I'd drop in for a moment. Is he here?»
«Yes. Come in.»
«Thank you.» Dana stepped inside and followed the woman into the living room.
«Ralph, you have a visitor.»
Ralph Benjamin rose from a rocking chair and moved toward Dana. «Hello? Do I know you?»
Dana stood there, frozen. Ralph Benjamin was blind.
