New York Dead

of them had spoken a word that had not been connected with what they were doing to each other.
    She handed him a glass of water from the bedside. He drank greedily from it, then handed it back.
    “Turn on a light,” he said. “It’s on your side.”
    “No.”
    “I want to see you.”
    “No.”
    “Why are we doing this in a hotel room? I have a home; you could have come there.”
    “It would have been an unnecessary risk,” she said.
    “Risk? What risk?”
    “We can’t be seen together.”
    “Cary, for Christ’s sake! I think you owe me some sort of explanation for your behavior.”
    “My father always said to me, ‘Never explain, never apologize.’”
    He got angrily out of bed and went into the bathroom. He peed, then turned on the light and looked at himself in the mirror, his hair awry, his face streaked with sweat. He found a facecloth and cleaned himself, brushed his hair with his fingers, rinsed his mouth. When he came out of the bathroom, she was dressed and pulling on a coat. A silk scarf was tied around her hair.
    “Cary, stay here and talk to me.”
    “I can’t.”
    The photograph of her and Harkness in bed together was still in his overcoat pocket. He felt an urge to thrust it into her face, but he held back. It disgusted him that he still wanted her, but he did, and he could not afford to push her further away.
    “Did you check on the Rome flight?” she asked casually.
    “Yes. Dino didn’t see Harkness. His name was on the manifest, though; that means someone used his ticket.”
    “Probably a crew member.” She was buckling the belt of her trench coat.
    “I can’t prove he wasn’t on the airplane, and, if he wasn’t, then I can’t prove where else he was. Not without your help.”
    “I can’t do that.”
    “Why not? If he murdered her, don’t you want him caught?”
    She went into the bathroom and began putting on lipstick. “There’s something else you could look into, though.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Sasha gave him a very large amount of money; I’m not sure how much.”
    Stone remembered the funds missing from Sasha’s accounts. “Could it have been as much as two million dollars?”
    “Yes. She wanted it back, and he couldn’t come up with it.”
    Motive, he thought. Finally, a solid motive. Harkness borrowed the money, then lost it somehow — gambling? Bad investments?
    “Why did she give him the money?”
    “To invest. Barron thinks of himself as God’s gift to Wall Street. Wall Street thinks of him that way, too; he’s lost millions in his time.” She put her makeup back into her purse and snapped it shut.
    “How can I get in touch with you?”
    “I told you before, you can’t. I’ll call you soon.” She was in the living room and opening the front door before he could move to stop her. She paused there and looked back. “You were wonderful,” she said. “You’re always wonderful.” She closed the door behind her.
    He nearly went after her, then remembered he was naked.

    When he got home, there was an invitation in the mail, postmarked Penn Station:

    The pleasure of your company is requested for dinner,
Saturday evening at nine.
A car will call for you at eight thirty. Black tie

    A handwritten note was in a corner:

    I so look forward to meeting you.
    S.

Chapter
45

    Stone spent a good part of the night restless in his bed, wondering how he could use the new information Cary had given him about Barron Harkness. He found a possible answer in the television column of the following morning’s
New York Times
: BARKER GETS LATE-NIGHT SHOW
Hiram Barker, the writer and social gadfly, has landed his own interview show, Sunday nights at 11:30 P.M., on the Continental Network, beginning this Sunday. Barker, contacted for comment, said that negotiations had been going on for several weeks and that he expected to be able to attract guests who did not ordinarily give interviews.

    Stone picked up the phone and called Hi Barker.
    “Hello, Stone, how are you? I hear good things about you from Frank Woodman.”
    “I’m very well, Hi. I see in this morning’s
Times
that you’ve landed a television show.”
    “That’s right. In fact, I had hoped to interview you about the Sasha business.”
    “It’s a little early for that, I think, but you may remember that when we first met I agreed to tell you what I knew first, in return for your help.”
    “I remember that very well indeed, dear boy, and that’s an IOU I intend to