Thirteen Diamonds

morning, after Sandra had diapered and clothed Winston and we all had eaten, we headed north a few miles to La Jolla and the campus of the University of California at San Diego. Having been there before, I rehearsed Sandra on the correct pronunciation of La Jolla—La Hoya—so that we wouldn't look too green.
    Before we left North Carolina I had arranged for us to have lunch with Dr. Benny Tokamatsu, a colleague of Gerald's during his professorial days. I had extracted Dr. Tokamatsu's name from Gerald's folder during my foray into Carol Grant's office. Gerald had listed him as a reference.
    The spacious UCSD campus is located above the Pacific Ocean, a paradise for surfers and other water lovers, including marine biologists. We arrived early for our appointment, got a parking permit and strolled along the walks shaded by cypress and eucalyptus trees and the rare Torrey pines, some with their branches jutting out at almost unsustainable angles.
    Sandra carried Winston in a backpack; he alternately played with her hair and tried to move her head aside so he could see more. The day was warm, with the temperature moderated by a breeze blowing off the ocean. Even though it was summer there were many young people about, riding bikes, walking briskly or slowly, talking or sitting on the grass.
    We found the economics building, and with the help of a friendly student we walked right to Dr. Tokamatsu's office. The door was open and he was inside, sitting in front of a computer and typing on the keyboard with machine-gun speed. He paused, noticed our presence in the doorway and gestured grandly for us to enter.
    “Come in, come in,” he said, jumping up from his chair with great energy. “I'm Benny Tokamatsu.”
    I introduced myself, Sandra and Winston. He shook hands with each of us, including Winston, who waved to him after shaking hands. He was no taller than I was and slightly built, maybe 50 years old, with still-dark hair and typical Japanese features, casually dressed in a colorful sport shirt. The fact that he spoke English without a trace of an accent led me to believe that he had been born in the U.S.
    He escorted us to his car in a nearby parking lot. He didn't have a car seat for Winston, but our car was some distance away. With trepidation, Sandra agreed to sit in the back seat and hold Winston during the short drive to the restaurant, but she obviously felt guilty about it.
    Once inside the nice Italian restaurant we were quickly seated, with a highchair for Winston. Sandra had also brought a bottle of formula, a jar of baby food and a change of diapers, so we were good for a couple of hours.
    “When I got your phone call, Dr. Morgan, I was very excited, because I have not seen Gerald for five years,” Dr. Tokamatsu said as soon as we had ordered. “Of course we heard about his tragic death—it was in all the papers here—but I was unable to go to his funeral because of previous commitments. I was a student of his and I have tried to follow in his footsteps. I work in the same areas he did. I would like to know more of the details of how he died—and how he lived after he left here.”
    “Please call me Lillian,” I said. I had never been a formal person, and since I'd retired I had felt that Dr. Morgan was somebody else. I told Dr. Tokamatsu the basic facts concerning Gerald's death, without mentioning the possibility of murder.
    When I talked about the shellfish, Dr. Tokamatsu interrupted and said, “Yes, I knew about Gerald's allergy to shellfish. Sometimes he and his wife would eat at our house and he would remind us of it. He had a very precise mind. It is surprising to me that he did not determine exactly what was in the dish that killed him.”
    “He tried.  He asked one of the ladies who prepared it. Unfortunately, there was a mixup and she didn't know there was shellfish in it. It was a tragic accident.” I hoped Dr. Tokamatsu wouldn't press the point because I didn't want to upset him by going into any more detail than necessary, especially since he had been such a good friend of Gerald's.
    I told him what I knew of Gerald's activities at Silver Acres, including bridge, and even mentioned his girlfriends.
    At this, Dr. Tokamatsu laughed and said, “Yes, Gerald always had an eye for the ladies.” He quickly added, “I don't want to give the wrong impression. He was always faithful to his wife, but he liked a pretty face. They say older men still look at women, but they forget why