in her research. She found no answers, but she did find a new puzzle and was mulling over that when John Wenden called around 7:30.
'Miserable day and miserable night,' he said. 'You eat yet, Red?'
'No, not yet.'
'Neither have I, but I wouldn't ask you to come out on a lousy night like this. You like Chinese food?'
'Right now I'd like anything edible.'
'Suppose I stop by a take-out place and pick up some stuff. I'll get it to the hotel while it's still warm.'
'Sounds good to me,' Dora said. 'I have a thing for shrimp in lobster sauce. Could you get some of that?'
'Sure, with wonton soup, fried rice, tea, and fortune cookies.'
'You can skip the tea,' she said. 'I can provide that. But load up on the hot mustard.'
'All right,' he said. 'See you in an hour.'
She put all her research away in a closet and dressed hurriedly in a tweed skirt and black turtleneck pullover floppy enough to hide her thickening waist.
Monday starts the diet, kiddo, she told herself sternly. I really mean that.
She had a fresh pot of tea ready by the time John arrived. His coat and hat were pimpled with rain, and his ungloved hands were reddened and icy. Dora poured him a pony of brandy to chase the chill while she opened the Chinese food he had brought. All the cartons were arranged on the cocktail table in front of the couch, and Dora set out plates, cutlery, and mugs for their tea.
He hadn't forgotten the shrimp in lobster sauce, and there was also a big container of sweet and sour pork cooked with chunks of pineapple and green and red peppers. Also egg rolls, barbecued ribs, and ginger ice cream.
'A feast!' Dora exulted. 'I'm going to stuff myself.'
'Be my guest,' Wenden said. 'You're looking good, Red. Losing weight?'
Dora laughed. 'You sweet liar,' she said. 'No, I haven't lost any weight, and I'm not about to if you keep feeding me like this. I'll be a real Fatty, Fatty, two-by-four.'
'More of you to love,' he said, and when she didn't reply, he busied himself with a barbecued rib.
'Let's talk business,' Dora said, smearing an eggroll with hot mustard. 'Were you able to get the information about which Starrett branch managers were fired a year ago?'
'Yeah, I got it. And you said you'd tell me why you want it.'
'All right,' she said. 'Did you know that Starrett has been dealing in gold bullion for about a year now?'
'Sure, I knew that,' Wenden said, filling his plate with fried rice and sweet and sour pork.
Dora was startled. 'How did you know?' she asked.
He looked up at her and grinned. 'Surprised that we're not total stupes? When Solomon Guthrie was knocked off, he was carrying a briefcase stuffed with company business papers. We went through it. Most of it was about Christmas bonuses for Starrett employees. But there was also a file on recent purchases and sales of gold bullion.'
'Oh,' she said, somewhat discomfited. 'Did you do anything about it?'
'Wow!' he said, wiping his forehead with a paper napkin. 'That mustard is rough. Sure, I did something about it; I asked Clayton Starrett what gives. He said the company buys the gold overseas at a good price and sells it to small jewelry stores around the country at a nice markup. He showed me his records. Everything looks to be on the up-and-up. Isn't it?'
'Maybe,' Dora said. 'I got hold of a computer printout showing all of Starrett's gold business for the last three months, and it-'
'Whoa!' the detective said, holding up a palm. 'Wait a minute. Where did you get the printout?'
'Let's just say it was from a reliable source. Will you accept that?'
He ate a moment without answering. Then: 'For the time being.'
'Well, I went over the printout many, many times and finally found something interesting. In addition to its flagship store on Park Avenue, Starrett has fifteen branches all over the world. Seven of them are overseas, and eight are in the U.S., including Honolulu. All the gold bullion Starrett was selling went to the domestic branches, none to the foreign stores.'
Wenden showed no reaction. He helped himself to more fried rice. 'So?' he said. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'I don't know what it means,' Dora said crossly, 'but it's unusual, don't you think?'
He sat back, swabbed his lips with a paper napkin, took a swig of tea. 'There could be a dozen explanations. Maybe the overseas stores buy their gold from local sources. Maybe there are hefty import duties on gold shipped to those countries. Maybe the foreign branches don't need any gold because they get all their finished jewelry from New York.'
'I guess you're right,' Dora said forlornly. 'I'm just grabbing at straws.'
'On the other hand,' John said, leaning forward again to start on his ice cream, 'you may be on to something. About a year ago nine branch managers, including the guy in Manhattan, were fired and replaced with new people. All the firings and replacements were in Starrett's U.S. branches, none in the foreign stores.'
They stared at each other a moment. Then Dora took a deep breath. 'You got any ideas?' she asked.
'Nope,' Wenden said. 'You?'
'Not a one. There could be an innocent reason for it.'
'Do you believe that?'
'No.'
'I don't either,' he said. 'Something fishy is going on. Do you know anything you're not telling me, Red?'
'I've told you all I know,' she said, emphasizing the know and figuring that made it only a half-lie.
'Well, keep digging, and if you come up with any ideas, give me a shout. Someone is jerking us around, and I don't like it.'
She nodded, stood up, and began clearing the mess on the cocktail table. 'John, there's leftovers. Do you want to take it home with you?'
'Nah,' he said. 'I'm going back to the office tonight for a few hours, and I won't be able to heat it up. You keep it. You can have it for breakfast tomorrow.'
'With the hot mustard?' she said, smiling. 'That'll start me off bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Thank you for the banquet. You were a lifesaver.'
'Is the way to a woman's heart through her stomach?' he asked.
'That's one way,' she said.
Working together, they cleaned up the place, put uneaten food in the refrigerator, washed plates, cutlery and mugs. Then they returned to the living room and Dora poured them tots of brandy.
'John, you look tired,' Dora said. 'Well, you usually look tired, but tonight you look beat. Are you getting enough sleep?'
He shrugged. 'Not as much as I'd like. Did you know that in one eight-hour period over New Year's Eve there were thirteen homicides in New York. Ten by gunshot.'
'That's terrible.'
'We can't keep up with it. That's why I don't give the Starrett thing the time I should be giving it. I'm depending on you to help me out.'
'I'll try,' she said faintly, feeling guilty because of the things she hadn't told him. 'Don't you get days off? A chance to recharge your batteries?'
'Yeah, I get days off occasionally. But they don't really help. I keep thinking about the cases I'm handling, wondering if I'm missing anything, figuring new ways to tackle them.'
'You've got to relax.'
'I know. I need a good, long vacation. About a year. Either that or a good woman.'
She nodded. 'That might help.'
'You?' he said.
She tried a smile. 'I told you; I'm taken.'
'One of these days you'll be leaving New York-right? Whether the Starrett thing is cleared up or not. Whether the insurance claim is approved or not. You'll be going home to Hartford. Correct?'
'That's right.'
