“Are they going to hit me for back taxes?”
“It’s too early to tell. Do you pay state taxes in California?”
“No.”
“Where is your legal residence?”
“In Florida.”
“For how long?”
“Four years.”
“Where was your legal residence before that?”
“I’m not sure, exactly.”
“You don’t know where you lived four years ago?”
“Maybe New Mexico, maybe Georgia.”
“Did you pay state taxes in either of those?”
“Yes, in Georgia.”
“Send me the info, and I’ll get started.”
“How long is it going to take to clear this up?”
“Many months, maybe years.”
“Oh, shit.”
“That’s what everybody says.” He hung up.
Less than an hour later, Dr. Don received another call.
“Good morning, it’s Lisa, at The New Yorker.”
He managed a smiling voice. “Good morning, Lisa.”
“I’ve received an anonymous tip that the New York State tax authorities are investigating you. Any truth to that?”
“Are you in cahoots with my mailman? I just got a letter an hour ago.”
“Like I said, the source is anonymous — sounds accurate, though. What did they ask you for?”
“Tax returns, my schedule in New York.”
“Uh-oh.”
“That’s pretty much what my accountant said, though in a great many more billable words.”
“Thanks, that’s all I needed to know. Oh, just one more thing: Why did you paint the front of Stone Barrington’s house?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Goodbye, Lisa.” He hung up.
“Now what?” his wife asked.
“We’re down a point,” Calhoun replied.
Stone and Dino were about to leave for their morning ride when Lady Bourne, née Elizabeth Bowen, pulled up in her car and got out.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” Stone said, shaking her hand and introducing Dino. “How are you?”
“I’m very well, but Charles, I fear, is not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought, perhaps, he looked slimmer on his return from Paris.”
“Yes, he’s losing weight steadily, not eating well. The doctor comes every day. He thinks we’re near the end.”
“May I come and see him?”
“I don’t think you would enjoy the experience, and he might not even know you’re there. I’ll give him your regards, and if he asks for you, I’ll call.”
“Please do.”
“I’ll tell him you’re exercising the horses, too — he’ll like that.”
“It’s more the other way around.”
“I want to thank you again for the wonderful honeymoon you gave us in Paris.”
“I only gave you the house — you supplied everything else.”
“Well, yes, but our visit was greatly enhanced by the house.”
“I’m glad.”
“By the way, that Inspector Holmes has called twice at the cottage to see Charles, but I sent him away both times. He may come and see you.”
“Do you know what it’s about?”
“The only contact that Charles has had with the police for many years was over the murder of Richard Curtis by the brigadier. I should think it’s in regard to that.”
“I see.”
“I just thought you should know Holmes might call.”
“Thank you.”
They shook hands again, and she drove away.
“I wonder what’s stirred up the inspector?” Dino asked.
“Who knows?” They mounted their horses and rode away.
37
Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun was having lunch with his wife when the doorman called up. “Dr. Calhoun?”
“Yes?”
“There are two gentlemen at the front desk who have identified themselves as police officers. Shall I send them up?”
“What do they want?”
“They wouldn’t tell me, sir, but they showed me badges and IDs.”
Calhoun signed. “All right, send them up.” He threw down his napkin.
“Now what?” Cheree asked.
“Now there are policemen at the door.”
“I’ve seen enough policemen this week to last me a lifetime,” she said.
Dr. Don answered the door and two men showed him badges that were different from each other and insisted he read their IDs.
“All right,” Calhoun said, “you’re policemen. Now what?”
“May we come in, sir? We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Oh, all right.” He took them into the living room and seated them facing away from the view. They didn’t deserve it. “What can I do for you?”
“First, I should say that I am Lieutenant Shaw, from the Connecticut State Police, and this is Lieutenant Roberts, from the New York State Police. For your convenience, we are conducting this interview together, rather than separately.”
“I derived that from your IDs.”
The officer showed him two photographs. “Are these two men your employees?”
“They are employed by a corporate entity of which I am an officer.”
“They were arrested, one in Connecticut, one in New York State, and they were both carrying firearms unlicensed in either state.”
“I heard about that. I wish to apologize.”
“I’m afraid, sir, that apologies do not erase felony arrests. Were they armed on your instructions?”
Calhoun blinked rapidly. “I do not recall giving them such instructions.”
“We understand that you and these two men were recently arrested in the United Kingdom on the same charge. Is this correct?”
“That was over a real estate dispute, nothing important.”
“Sir, please answer the question.”
“Should I have my attorney present?”
“You are not under arrest, sir, but that’s entirely up to you.”
“How does the business in London relate to the business in Connecticut and New York?”
“It seems to indicate a pattern of behavior, sir.”
“I think it would be best if I decline to answer other questions and refer you to my attorney.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Calhoun wrote down the name and phone number and handed it to them.
“One other question, sir: Do you possess a firearm at this residence?”
“You can ask my attorney that.”
“Thank you, sir.” The two men rose and headed for the door, then one of them turned back. “I almost forgot,” he said, handing Calhoun a blue envelope. “You’ve been served.”
Calhoun was left staring at the envelope as the door closed behind him.
“Served what?” Cheree asked.
Calhoun ripped open the envelope. “Notices to appear in court in both Litchfield, Connecticut, and Katonah, New York.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Katonah in the morning, Litchfield in the afternoon.”
“Oh, good,” she said acidly. “We’ll have a nice day in the country.”
Calhoun called his attorney and reported his conversation with the two policemen.
“And you said they were your employees?”
“I said I was an officer of the company that employs them. Will you be at this hearing?”
“I’m licensed in both New York and Connecticut. I’ll go with you. And I’ll bring a couple of blank checks on the firm for bail money.”
“Bail money?”
“It’s what you pay to get out of jail, like in Monopoly.”
“Jail?”
“Dr. Calhoun, if you sent two armed men on some sort of mission, without the requisite firearms licenses, it is very likely that both they and you will be charged.”
“Oh, dear Jesus,” Calhoun breathed.