Spiral

tell me about that day?”
    ”What do you want to know?”
    ”Start at the beginning.”
    Radescu rubbed the towel across the bridge of his nose. ”The beginning of my day, or only the party itself?”
    A man who’d been interrogated more than once. ”How was it you were invited at all?”
    The slight smile. ”Before he has the stroke, Nick played here. I still give his wife lessons.”
    A smirk now.
    ”And his granddaughter, too.”
    The smirk faded. ”Yes.”
    ”Why?”
    ”Very wants to learn tennis, and I am an excellent teacher. Also, her ‘grandmother’ is already taking lessons with me.”
    No smirk this time.
    ”Let’s focus on the party first, then Veronica.”
    ”The party?” Radescu laid his towel on top of his tennis bag. ”I drive there. Already many cars are in the driveway, so I leave mine in the street, and I am checked in through the gate guard.” Something passed across Radescu’s features. ”Inside the house, we are eating, drinking, trying to make it seem we have a good time.”
    ”Seem?”
    A skeptical look as Radescu leaned forward in his chair. ”Come on, Mr. John Cuddy, you have seen Nick, yes?”
    ”Yes.”
    ”And you know him from somewhere before, because he does not hire people he does not feel sure about.”
    ”We knew each other a long time ago.”
    ”So.” Radescu settled back a little. ”You know for certainly how... diminished he is by the stroke. And you must know then also that it is hard to have fun around a man such as he is now.”
    ”But you were trying.”
    At first the skeptical look again, then almost a mellowing.
    ”I tell you, I think everybody is trying. Even his son, David, the strange one. I think we know Nick probably does not have another birthday party waiting for him in the next year.” I let that go by. ”So, you’re all helping him celebrate.”
    ”To celebrate, yes, as much as he can. Then Very announces she is to sing, and the young black, he has the camera, and we all are to stand around, to hear this. But when Very sings, she is strange, too, and I do not mean only the things she sings. No, it is like she performs for everyone in the room, not just her grandfather. Do you understand?”
    ”The autopsy revealed cocaine in her system.”
    Radescu frowned and tossed the towel toward his bag. ”Drugs. They are poison. But perhaps that is why she performs for him only as a mask for the rest of us.”
    I’d gotten a little of that from the tape. ”Did you see Veronica Held after she left the main room?”
    ”After she runs out? No. Her father and then her mother go after her. I know, if she is my daughter, I beat her to bloody for what she did.” Something went across Radescu’s features again, maybe a realization of how he’d just sounded. ”But she is not.”
    ”Not your daughter.”
    ”That is right.”
    ”Did you see her again?”
    ”No. No, before she is found, I leave the party.”
    ”Why?”
    ”Because her singing makes it now impossible even to seem like things are fun.”
    ”How did you come to know Veronica had been killed?”
    No reply.
    ”Mr. Radescu?”
    ”Cassandra calls me that night, and then the police come here to see me.”
    ”And ask you questions like mine.”
    ”An angry policeman. Not very smart.”
    I had a pretty good idea who that would have been. ”Okay, what can you tell me about Veronica herself?” Radescu paused. ”I can tell you she is coordinated and strong enough, but she probably could not become a good tennis player, and for certainly never a great one.”
    ”Why is that?”
    ”Very starts too late.” Radescu angled his head at a woman playing singles two courts away. She was young, but running a tall, athletic man ragged. ”That blonde there? She is ranked number one woman in Florida.” Radescu came back to me. ”To be truly great now, they must have the racquet in their hands when they are five, six years of age.”
    ”Why couldn’t Veronica at least have been a good player?”
    ”She never wants to practice her shots. She wants only to be shown them in the lesson, and then play matches trying them. That is no way to become a good player.”
    ”Then why did you continue as her instructor?”
    Radescu rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. ”The money, Mr. Cuddy. Nick is a rich man, and he wants his granddaughter to have the best.” Now a shrug that didn’t quite come off. ”Also, I am Cassandra’s teacher, so it is easier.”
    ”Because they could ride over