“I’m yours for the morning. What do you want to see, and who do you want to talk with?”
“We’d like to walk the route that Mrs. Kendrick took from the tennis court to the place where her body was found,” Stone said.
“Of course. Come with u iwme.”
Stone and Dino said good-bye to Tim Coleman, then followed Fair Sutherlin, which Stone found to be a pleasant experience. She led them past the Oval Office and down a hallway, through a couple of doors, and out onto a walkway, then stopped after a few steps.
“This is where I found Mimi Kendrick,” Fair said.
“You found her?” Stone asked. “What were you doing out here?”
Fair looked a little embarrassed. “I had just finished a very heated phone conversation with a member of Congress, and when I hung up I was still angry. I came out here to get a little air and calm down.”
“Why here?” Dino asked.
“It’s the closest place to my office that’s outside,” she said, “unless of course I had gone through the Oval Office, and that’s not something I make a habit of, unless I’m called in there.”
Dino began looking at the ground around him, while Stone continued to talk with Fair. “Do you have a bad temper, Ms. Sutherlin?”
“Fair,” she said. “And you might say I have a fairly bad temper, under some circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
“On that occasion, I was blatantly lied to by a congressman. I knew he was lying, and so did he, but he persisted.”
“What else makes you angry?” Stone asked, but she was staring at Dino.
Stone followed her gaze. Dino was standing next to a flower bed, holding a flat piece of granite. “What have you got there, Dino?”
“The murder weapon, I think.” He walked over to where Stone and Fair stood. “It’s an edging rock, and it was out of line with the others. It appears to have blood and hair on it and what looks like a lipstick smudge.” He pointed at a smear of something pink.
“And it was still there after a year? And with blood, hair, and lipstick on it?”
“It was stuck in the ground,” Dino said, “under a bush. Evidence can sometimes last like that.”
“And what does all this mean?” Fair asked.
“It means the murder was heat of the moment, not planned,” Dino replied. “Mrs. Kendrick might have had an argument with someone she encountered, an argument that made the other person angry or frightened. The murderer grabbed the first weapon available and hit her on the head with it. At least, that’s my guess at what a day in the FBI lab will determine.”
“Very good, Dino,” Stone said.
“And we’re just getting started,” Dino replied.
“I find this something of a stretch,” Fair Sutherlin said.
“Murder is always a stretch,” Dino said, “and usually improbable. In this case, what could one woman have said to another that made her angry enough to kill?”
“I can’t imagine,” Fair replied.
“Perhaps Mrs. Kendrick threatened her,” Stone said.
“Threatened her with what?”
“Perhaps she threatened to expose something that the other woman didn’t want to become general knowledge.”
“Like what?” Fair asked.
“That remains to be seen,” Stone replied “Thank you for your help, Fair. We’ll find our way out.”
Fair left, and Stone turned to Dino. “How the hell did you come up with that?”
“I merely observed, my dear Watson,” Dino said, affecting a terrible English accent. He produced a zipper bag and dropped the stone into it. “Now we’d better get this to the lab.”
7
Stone navigated them along Pennsylvania Avenue toward Georgetown, and they began driving down tree- lined streets of town houses. “Two down on the left,” Stone said, pointing to a house.
Dino invented a parking place and turned down his visor, which had a government business notice on it. They got out of the car and approached the front door. There was a discreet FOR SALE sign attached to the wrought-iron fence enclosing the small front garden, bearing the name and number of a realtor. Stone pulled away a couple of inches of yellow crime-scene tape from the front door, then unlocked it and led the way in.
“Pretty nice,” Dino said, looking around.
Stone walked into the living room and stopped. There seemed to be some pieces of furniture missing, and there were outlines on the walls where pictures had hung. “Burglary, you think?” Stone asked.
“Pretty picky burglars,” Dino said, looking up. “There,” he said, pointing at one of the beams across the room. “There’s a mark where the rope was.”
“That’s, what, twelve feet up?” Stone asked.
“About. There must have been a ladder here. Maybe the burglars took that, too.”
They walked around the house, checking the kitchen, which seemed to have been remodeled recently, and a comfortable study, where the bookcases were more than half empty and there were more missing-picture marks.
Stone opened a few drawers. “Pencils, paper clips, that sort of stuff. No paper, no files in the file drawers.”
“Burglars wouldn’t bother with that stuff,” Dino said. “The family must have come into the house and lifted whatever they wanted.”
A voice suddenly came from the doorway behind them. “Why not?” a man asked. “It was all ours.”
Stone and Dino turned to find a young man of medium height and slim build, wearing surgeon’s scrubs, standing behind them. “Are you FBI?” he asked.
Stone and Dino produced their White House IDs.
The young man looked closely at them. “Anybody I can call to verify you are who these say you are?”
“Tim Coleman, chief of staff,” Stone said. “Or Charleston Bostwick, his deputy.”
“Yeah, I know them,” he replied, handing back the IDs.
“You have us at a disadvantage,” Stone said.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Tom Kendrick. They were my parents.”
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Stone said.
“Losses,” Tom replied. “The whole thing was screwy.”
Stone pointed at a leather sofa. “Why don’t you sit down and tell us about it?”
Tom didn’t mov F>
“Some people at the White House were not satisfied with the investigation into your parents’ deaths,” Stone replied. “They asked us to look into it.”
Tom went to the sofa and sat down, while Stone and Dino took chairs. “And what are your qualifications for that work?”
Dino spoke up. “I’m a detective lieutenant on the NYPD,” he said. “Stone is a retired homicide detective.”
“Then I guess you’re qualified. Actually, I’m glad you, or somebody like you, is looking into the situation, because it’s completely crazy.”
“Tell us about it,” Dino said.
“First of all, who would want to kill my mother? No sweeter human being ever existed. She had no enemies, not even in politics. And my father was just not the type to kill either my mother or himself. He’s the type who would have been all over the cops until they caught the killer. He met with the FBI and Secret Service people and answered every question, broken up as he was.”
