“Pale? Me?” she said. “I had a little problem with getting to sleep last night, but I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” Evan said, then started across the lobby.
When they reached the elevators a uniformed police officer was standing by one elevator set apart from the others. Evan nodded at him as he and Jennifer stepped into the elevator. There was only one button on the panel and Evan pushed it.
“This is a private elevator for the penthouse?” Jennifer said. “Impressive.”
The doors swished closed and the elevator began its ascent.
“Yep,” Evan said. “This one only goes to the penthouse. It normally requires a special key, but we’re making it accessible to our people with no hassle.”
The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid silently open.
“Oh, my,” Jennifer said, as she stepped forward. “No wonder a private elevator is needed. We’re actually standing in the foyer to the penthouse itself. The elevator is the front door, per se. Mmm. So this is how the other half lives in Chicago, the haves versus us have-not working stiffs.”
“Right,” Evan said, frowning, “but the Gardner family money wasn’t enough for greedy Franklin. He had to have more. So the slime sets up a racket of kidnapping girls no one would miss and selling them to prostitution rings in foreign countries. Unbelievable. The Gardner name has been held in high regard in this city for many, many years and now it’s tarnished beyond repair.”
They entered the enormous living room, then Jennifer followed Evan across the richly furnished expanse to a room on the opposite side. A chalk outline of a body was visible on the carpet in what was obviously a study, or den, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
“Well, Franklin paid the ultimate price for his greed,” Jennifer said quietly, staring at the outline of the murdered man’s body. “It’s probably terrible of me to say this, Evan, but with Franklin Gardner dead we can at least know that a great many young girls have been saved from a horrible existence.”
“That thought has occurred to me more than once.” Evan nodded. “ Franklin paid the piper, big-time. But even though he was an evil, heartless man, his killer can’t go unpunished. No one has the right to get away with what happened in this room, to take the life of another human being. Lyle is going to pay his dues, too.”
Jennifer placed one hand on Evan’s arm. “You’ll get your conviction, Evan, I know you will.”
“Will I? I need more evidence than what I have, Jennifer. The detectives working this case and I are convinced that the bruises were caused by the signet ring that Lyle always wore. A ring, he claims, he lost. Damn, we need that ring, but it’s nowhere to be found. The detectives are still looking for it but…” He shook his head.
“Are you here this morning to search for it again?”
“No, this place has been gone over inch by inch. The ring isn’t here. There’s no real purpose to be served by my being here. I just wanted to connect with the whole event again, try to imagine it in my mind as it unfolded that night. I suppose you could put in your documentary that the district attorney wasted taxpayer money by returning to the scene of the crime for no plausible reason.”
“I wouldn’t do that. If you feel the need to be here, then here you should be. It’s sort of creepy though to be standing here realizing that a man was murdered by his own brother in this very room. It’s too bad you can’t bring the jury here, let them see this, feel the evil vibes in here.”
“The judge would never go for that.”
“I suppose not.” Jennifer paused. “Can you imagine what Cecelia Gardner must be going through? One of her sons is dead and the other one is accused of his murder. Her world as she knew it is destroyed. Her heart must be breaking.”
“I don’t know about that,” Evan said, starting to wander slowly around the room. “From what I hear, there are mixed opinions about whether Cecelia Gardner even has a heart. Oh, she’s considered the grande dame of Chicago society and makes certain her picture is in the newspaper whenever possible in connection with charity events she sponsors. But she’s a tough old gal who is used to having her own way.
“She went all the way to the top, to the governor, to attempt to get Lyle released on bail. He refused but Cecelia managed to rattle some cages, get some very pithy quotes in the paper about the need for a new governor, new mayor, a new district attorney, and a complete overhaul of the police department.”
“She wanted you fired?”
“Oh, yeah,” Evan said, smiling. “I said we had enough evidence against Lyle to go to trial. The lady is after my hide. Belinda knows to never put through any call to me from Cecelia Gardner. I have neither the time, nor the patience to deal with her.”
“It’s probably the first time in her life that her money and social standing haven’t gotten her what she wants. She doesn’t sound like a pleasant person, but a part of me can’t help but think about the fact that she’s a mother who might very well lose both of her sons. What a chilling thought.”
Evan turned to look at Jennifer. “You sound like a mother right now. You’re taking Cecelia’s actions to a place I hadn’t even thought of, but one that a mother would understand. It doesn’t make me particularly like the uppity woman any more than I did before, but it does show me another layer to her that I hadn’t considered. It doesn’t have anything to do with Lyle’s trial though, if you stop and think about it.”
“I realize that.”
“Strange. You haven’t even met the woman, yet you immediately jumped to her role of mother and what she might be feeling in that arena.”
Because I’m going to be a mother, Evan, Jennifer’s mind yelled. She was already so fiercely protective of the baby she carried that it startled her at times. Well, she wasn’t going to open her mouth and announce that little tidbit to Evan Stone.
“It’s a woman thing,” Jennifer said breezily.
“Oh,” Evan said, chuckling, “I see. There are a whole bunch of those woman things that men can give up on ever understanding. Women are very complicated creatures.”
Jennifer smiled. “Give me one example of what you perceive to be a woman thing.”
“Okay, but let’s get out of this study. You’re right about the nasty vibes in this room.”
Back in the living room Evan commented on the fantastic view of Lake Michigan and Lincoln Park from the wall of windows on the far side of the room.
“Postcard-perfect picture, and you’re stalling,” Jennifer said, folding her arms beneath her breasts.
“You’re right.” Evan laughed. “Okay, okay, give me a minute here.” He ran one hand over his chin. “A woman thing. I got one. When I was in high school I walked into the room just as my mother asked my father if he still loved her. He lowered the newspaper he was reading in his favorite chair, looked at my mom like she was nuts and said ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ I can remember nodding and heading for my room, but my mother burst into tears.”
“Well, of course, she did,” Jennifer said, shifting her hands to her hips. “She needed to hear the actual words right then, at that very moment. She needed to hear your father say that he loved her.”
“He thought he had,” Evan said, shrugging, “with the answer he gave her.”
“Oh-h-h…men,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes heavenward.
“That,” Evan said, pointing one finger in the air, “was a fine example of a woman thing.”
“You’re right.” Jennifer laughed. “You’re absolutely right. You’d do well to remember that incident, Evan, because you may need that data at some point in your life. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ does not cut it when your wife asks if you still love her.”
Evan closed the distance between them and looked directly into Jennifer’s green eyes.