“Go to it.” Stone hung up and called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone. What do you think of Joan’s mental state?”
Dino was quiet for a moment. “Why do you ask?”
“You know her well, and I just want your opinion.”
“What has caused you to question her sanity?”
“I don’t question her sanity. I just want to know if you do.”
“Well, now that you mention it, I think we have to consider what she’s been through the past few days: two people have been shot dead in her residences. And she shot one of them herself. I think that experience would rattle anybody, even a usually sane person.”
“So you think she’s usually sane?”
“Certainly.”
“Could being ‘rattled,’ as you put it, cause her to believe things that are not true?”
“Listen, there are a lot of usually sane people who believe that what’s-his-name won the last election. Anything is possible. Now, what has caused you to question Joan’s sanity?”
“I don’t question her sanity. I just want to know whether you question her sanity.”
“I would never have questioned that, if you hadn’t brought it up.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“What’s your fault?”
“That I’m questioning her sanity.”
“Well, it’s not my fault and there are only two of us in this conversation, so it must be your fault.”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Stone said. “If Joan still believes that Eddie Jr. is somewhere in the house, after Strategic Services has searched her house again and found no trace of him, is she nuts?”
“Those people of Mike’s are very good,” Dino said. “My wife is one of them.”
“I concur. Nevertheless, after the first search, Joan ‘feels’ that Eddie is still somewhere in the house.”
“How firmly does she believe this?”
“Firmly enough to order Mike Freeman to conduct a second search, this time with a different team.”
“Well, it seems to me that one of two things is happening,” Dino said.
“What are they?”
“Either one, Eddie Jr. is hiding somewhere in Joan’s house, or two, Joan is batshit crazy.”
“You mean, not entirely sane.”
“Batshit crazy is worse than not entirely sane. It’s batshit crazy.”
“Thank you for your psychiatric diagnosis,” Stone said. “I think that, since a new search has been ordered and should be underway shortly, we should withhold final judgment on the matter of Joan’s sanity until such time as we know the results of the new search.”
“Tell them to check the washer and dryer,” Dino said.
“Why the washer and dryer?”
“Because if Eddie Jr. is living there, he has to have clean socks and underwear at some point.”
“I will add that to their instructions,” Stone said, then hung up. He texted Mike Dino’s order, and Mike responded that his crew was on the way to Joan’s house.
Fifty
A couple of hours later, Joan came into Stone’s office. “Will you go over to the house with me? I know that Mike’s people are there, but I’m still afraid to go inside, unless you’re there and armed.”
“I can arrange both of those things,” Stone said.
Fred drove up to the garage door at Joan’s house and stopped. “We need a new code to get in,” he said to Stone.
“Hang on,” Joan said. “I’ve got it.” She dug into her purse, came up with the remote control, and pressed the button.
The garage door silently opened, and Fred drove them in. They were greeted by Mike Freeman and his crew leader.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.”
They followed him up to the kitchen and into the laundry. “In there,” Mike said, pointing at an appliance. He handed Stone a pronged piece of plastic, like big tweezers. “So you won’t leave DNA on anything.”
Stone opened the door and probed the interior, then came up with something black.
“What’s that?” Joan asked.
“A sock,” Mike said.
“Well, Dino called it. He said that if someone is living in the house he would need socks and underwear.”
“There are boxer shorts, too, and they’re Eddie Jr.’s size.”
“So he is living here!” Joan said with some satisfaction.
“Not necessarily,” Mike said. “Come with me.” He led them into what seemed like a small apartment, with a sofa, a TV set, and a bed. Beyond that was a large dressing room, with many suits, jackets, shirts, and shoes on display.
“Wow,” Joan said.
Mike opened a dresser drawer and fished out a pair of socks and a pair of boxer shorts. “These are the same size and by the same maker as the socks and underwear in the dryer.”
“Were the ones from the dryer damp or hot?”
“They were at the temperature of everything else in this room,” Mike said.
“So the things in the dryer could be Eddie Sr.’s, not Junior’s?”
“Exactly,” Mike said.
Joan spoke up. “Eddie Sr. and Eddie Jr. were the same size and wore the same size of everything.”
Mike nodded and continued, “They could have been put in the dryer before or just after Eddie Sr. died, then forgotten by the maid. But there’s still another possibility.”
“Not another possibility.” Joan sighed.
“Although the things in the dryer are Eddie Sr.’s, Eddie Jr. could have been wearing them, and as recently as today.”
“Oh, swell,” Joan said.
“Is there any indication that Eddie Jr. might be using this place, either for sleeping or for laundering?”
“Possibly,” Mike said. He shone his flashlight at the top of a cabinet holding suits. “There’s a trapdoor up there, leading to an unfinished attic.”
“Any sign that Eddie Jr. has been there?”
“Absolutely none, but it’s the kind of place that a small boy might use when playing.”
“Eddie Jr. is not a small boy,” Joan said.
“Ah, but he used to be,” Mike said. “And so he would certainly remember it.”
“Why would there be a bed in this dressing room?” Stone asked.
“Oh, that’s right, you’re not married,” Mike said. “Sometimes married men annoy their wives and get banished from their shared bed. My guess is that, when they renovated this house, Annetta insisted on that bed being available.”
“That would have been just like her,” Joan said.
“Can the washer or dryer be heard from the master bedroom?” Stone asked.
“No. We turned everything on in the laundry and not a peep got to the bedroom.”
“Has the bed in the dressing-room suite been slept in?”
“It doesn’t appear to have been used, and it was neatly made up, with fresh linens.”
“So, what do we do now?” Joan asked Mike.
“May I make a suggestion?” Stone asked.
“Please do,” Mike replied.
“Let’s put the socks and underwear back in the dryer, and tomorrow, let’s see if they’re still there and not back in a drawer.”
“We can set a few invisible traps, too,” Mike said.
“I don’t want Eddie Jr. caught in some kind a of trap,” Joan said.
“Not a bear trap kind of trap. This is an old private eye trick: you moisten a hair or a piece of thread and stick it to the door’s edge. If somebody goes in or out, the hair falls away, unnoticed, except by our man. Then we’ll know if somebody has been in the room.”
“I like it,” Joan said.
“It has the advantage of not shooting somebody in the head,” Stone said. “Can you stand another night in the house, Joan?”
“We can have people on duty all night,” Mike said.