“My wife?”
“Yes, what do they think of her, Thomas? I’m simply interested because, like August and me, Charlotte is much younger than you. Does this disturb your parents?”
“They have no problem at all with Charlotte. My mother thinks she’s beautiful. As a matter of fact, she is always telling me Charlotte is well-meaning, a positive influence on me.”
Since Julia had brought up Charlotte, maybe it was time— maybe—and so Savich said, “Mr. Pallack, speaking of your wife, when did you last speak to your brother-in-law, David Caldicott?”
To everyone’s surprise, Thomas Pallack shoved back from his desk, bounded to his feet. He was quick for his age. “What is this about, Agent Savich?”
Surely this show of temper was over the top. Savich said easily, “It simply came to mind, sir. I gather you are aware your brother-in-law failed to show up for the symphony performance last night. His girlfriend has reported him missing.”
Pallack sucked in lots of air, seemed to calm a bit. He sat back down. But there was deep suspicion in his eyes and in his voice. “Very well, if you must know, I spoke to David last week, I believe. He was fine, he was happy with his girlfriend, he was pleased to be playing with the Atlanta Symphony. Why is this at all to the point? So he missed a single performance? Perhaps he was ill. David isn’t missing, that’s nonsense.”
Savich said, “Fact remains, no one’s seen him since yesterday.” Pallack laughed. “I admit, missing a performance is unlike him, but these things happen. Let me tell you, David probably took off for New Orleans and is at this moment jamming in some smoky hole with some of his grotty musician friends. He’s done this before, gone away for up to a week. He forgets everything. He’s not missing. This is absurd.”
Cheney asked, “Has he ever disappeared on one of his unplanned jaunts since he joined the Atlanta symphony?”
Pallack shrugged. “I can see this alarms you. I will ask Charlotte what she knows about this, if anything. I doubt she even knows anyone is looking for him. Of what concern is this to the FBI?”
Savich said, “The FBI interviewed David Caldicott in connection with another case, Mr. Pallack. The agents who interviewed him felt he was holding something back, and then he up and disappeared. It seems logical that his disappearance may be related, don’t you agree?”
“I fail to see how, Agent Savich.”
“Bear with me, sir. Tell us, do you know Chappy Holcombe?”
“Naturally I know Chappy Holcombe. Again, you are journeying far afield, Agent Savich. What does Chappy have to do with any of this?”
“You have visited Maestro, Virginia? To visit Chappy?”
“Yes, once, quite a while ago. On business. Why?”
“Was this when your brother-in-law was studying at Stanislaus Music School?”
“Perhaps, but I didn’t know David Caldicott until right before I married Charlotte. He came out here to meet me. So what? Listen, Agent Savich, I’ve had about enough of this.” Thomas Pallack rose slowly and leaned over, his palms flat on his desk. It was an excellent intimidation pose, Sherlock thought. “You will tell me what is behind these intrusive questions or I will call my lawyer. Trust me on this, you do not want me to call my lawyer.”
“You have the same lawyer as Dr. Ransom, don’t you?” Cheney asked. “Zion Leftwitz?”
“He’s one of my corporate lawyers. Simon Bellows is my civil lawyer.” He reached for his phone.
Savich looked over at Sherlock, who appeared thoughtful, then she slowly nodded to him. “Very well, Mr. Pallack,” Savich said. “Let me bottom-line this. You are married to a woman who greatly resembles another woman who disappeared from Maestro, Virginia, over three years ago. They look so similar they could be twins. Her name is Christie Noble. She’s Chappy Holcombe’s daughter. Perhaps you met her when you saw Chappy?”
“My Charlotte resembles this Christie? So what? Listen, I seem to recall Chappy had a daughter, but no, I never met her. You said she disappeared?”
Sherlock said, “You are acquainted with my parents, I believe, Mr. Pallack.”
“Yes, it is my pleasure.”
Cheney said, “You met Christie’s husband, Chappy’s son-in-law—Sheriff Dix Noble—when you dined at the Sherlocks last Friday night.”
Thomas Pallack became very still, his eyes darkening to become completely opaque, with malice, Sherlock thought. She never looked away from him as he said, “I remember the dinner and I remember the sheriff. Ah, I see now, that is why he stared at my wife throughout the evening. He believed she was his wife?”
Sherlock nodded. “Yes, but only for a moment. He realized quickly enough your wife wasn’t Christie. As Agent Savich said, she was Chappy Holcombe’s daughter. You said you never met her?”
“That’s right. Tell me, how did this sheriff know about Charlotte?”
“Do you remember a fundraiser you gave two, three weeks ago, Mr. Pallack?” Savich said. “One of your guests met your wife, and collapsed.”
“Why yes, Jules Advere. I felt very badly for him. But we dealt with it. I haven’t spoken to him but I understand he’s fine now. So what?”
“Yes, he’s feeling better. Do you remember leaning over him. Mr. Pallack, speaking to him?” Sherlock paused a moment, then said quickly, deliberately, “You said to him, your exact words, I believe—’My wife’s name is Charlotte. Do you understand? Don’t forget it.’ Now wasn’t that a strange thing to say, Mr. Pallack? It sounds remarkably like a threat to me. Could you please tell us why that made you so angry? Why you reacted that way to a guest who’d collapsed at your feet?”
Pallack erupted, roared to his feet, and slammed his fist on his desktop. “Dammit, you’re way out of line here. I have no recollection of anything like that occurring, none at all. Who the hell do you think you are to—” He stared hard at Sherlock. “I see now, it’s your father talking here. He told you about this and put his own unique spin on it,
