"Surely the house doesn't have a swimming pool?"
Frankie's eyes were stricken. "As a matter of fact, it does. One of the very few outdoor pools in Chelsea. It's not big, but it's deep. We had a pool party there last summer. That was the first time I met the sisters."
For a moment there was silence between them as they considered the possible implications.
"The house itself is quite fascinating, really, in a rather gloomy way." Frankie grimaced slightly. "There's a very impressive library, but I certainly don't recall seeing butterflies or fantailed doves flying around. And I rather doubt there were self-mutilating monks hiding behind the doors."
"And no pet crow, I take it."
"Sorry."
"You said they were friends with Robbie."
"Actually, for the last year he was constantly in their company. And after he met them, he moved out of our house into an apartment of his own. I always thought they had something to do with that decision."
"Daddy probably didn't like it, did he?"
"Quite the opposite. William approved of the friendship. About the only thing he did approve of where Robbie was concerned. He thought the sisters had a stabilizing influence on Robbie."
"Did they?"
She shrugged. "I guess so. Robbie seemed content for the first time I knew him."
Something in her voice was not right.
Gabriel leaned forward. "Why don't you like them?"
"I never said I didn't like them." Her tone was defensive. She was actually scowling. Gabriel suppressed a smile. Women, Time to change tack.
"Morrighan and Minnaloushe Monk. It sounds like something from a riddle. Their parents liked unusual. Why not Mary and Mabel, I wonder."
Frankie lifted her eyebrows. "Believe me, these two women don't look like a Mary and a Mabel. They're rather… exotic creatures. Robbie was smitten with them. Especially one."
"Which one?"
"You know what, I really don't know. Somehow I always think of them as a pair. And to tell the truth, I didn't pay that much attention. Robbie had these on-off crushes all the time." She smiled a little sadly. "He even had a little crush on me once."
"Well, I can't blame him for that."
"Well, thank you."
"No, really, I mean it." And he did. He glanced at her appraisingly. You would not call her beautiful, but Frankie's face was immensely appealing. She was sitting in profile, and his gaze took in the sweep of her cheekbone, the nose just slightly turned up at the end and the curve of the upper lip, which always made it seem as though she was just about to smile. Today she was wearing a flowery dress and looked young and fresh. He hadn't noticed how pretty she looked until now, which was very unlike him. Still, when she first arrived he had felt so rough he wouldn't have reacted if Monica Bellucci had walked through the door. Frankie's dress had a wide scoop neck, and he could see the delicate sprinkle of tiny coppery freckles on her collarbone. Sun kisses, he used to call them way back, when they were still together. Not very original, in hindsight. But what he remembered was how he had liked to try to count them. Usually after they had made love. A small private ritual.
She turned her head and caught him looking. He saw in her eyes that she had sensed what he was thinking. A faint blush stained her cheekbones and she brought her hand involuntarily to her neck.
So Mrs. Whittington wasn't quite as impervious as she liked to pretend. He smiled and touched her hand, allowing his ringers to linger. "I like this dress on you."
"Thanks. It's William's favorite as well. He bought it for me in Milan."
Right. That was pointed enough. He should have remembered that despite an innate sweetness, Frankie was no pushover. And she had always been able to put him in his place. He removed his hand.
"I take it the police interviewed the sisters?" He kept his voice cool.
"In depth." He could see she was relieved by his businesslike tone. "They found nothing suspicious at all."
"You said he had a crush on one of the women. Was it reciprocated?"
"Oh, no." Frankie's voice was emphatic. "They're quite a few years older than Robbie. And there is absolutely no way either one of them would be interested in him as a partner. I think they saw him as a little puppy dog following them around and were rather amused by his devotion."
She paused, tapped her finger against her lips. "I could get you inside that house. Pay them a visit and take you along."
He shook his head, wincing as he did so. The headache was still there. "What I need is unrestricted access. If you take me along as a guest, we'll be served tea in the parlor and that would be that. I need to be able to snoop around undisturbed. Also, I want to see the house first before meeting the owners. It would be easier to get a clean impression that way."
Frankie looked at him suspiciously. "You're not thinking of breaking and entering, are you?"
"With your help, yes."
"Gabriel… wait a minute. This is taking it too far."
"Well, it's up to you. I can walk away at any time."
Which wasn't quite true. The discovery that he still had the ability to view so clearly had come as something of a surprise. Whether this was going to turn out to be a pleasant surprise was the question. But he was hooked.
And her next words showed he hadn't fooled her. "You're lying. The ride got to you. I can see it in your eyes. Was this your first ride since…" She paused delicately, then must have read the answer on his face. "Wow. You must be pumped then."
He shrugged. He was exhausted but excited. And still amazed that it had happened at all. Admittedly, the circumstances had been favorable. Remote viewing ideally required the viewer to manage brain waves, which have a frequency range of four to seven cycles per second. These theta waves were present during deep meditation and created the optimal mental state for crossing over. When he had slotted into the ride, his body had been completely relaxed. And this was when it usually happened for him: when he was drifting, but not out.
"So let's make a plan."
"What did you have in mind exactly?" Her voice was wary.
"I need you to invite them to your house for dinner one night so that I can be sure the house is empty."
She chewed her lip, her face uncertain.
"Come on, Frankie. Take a walk on the wild side."
"Well, your repertoire has certainly changed. I can't recall burglary as being one of your talents."
"It's not burglary. It's looking without touching."
She frowned, but he could see she was starting to make peace with the idea.
"All right," she said. "All right. But I'm not saying anything to William yet. He admires those two women a lot."
Maybe a little bit too much, Gabriel thought, and maybe Mrs. Whittington doesn't like it?
Frankie glanced at her watch, picked up her handbag. "I should go. I have a lunch appointment. But I'll call the sisters when I get home. Set a date."
"OK."
At the door she stopped and looked at him. "You said that in your ride you were able to sense this woman as a person. What was it you sensed? Malevolence?"
"No. Not malevolence. Greed."
"Greed?"
"It's hard to explain. Not greed as in money lust but greed as in wanting to know. Curiosity, is the word I'm looking for, I suppose. Except that it's not strong enough. I'm talking intense curiosity. Curiosity to the square, you might say."
"Curiosity about what?"
He shrugged. "Beats me."
But as he closed the door behind Frankie, he realized that his description hadn't been quite accurate. Yes, he had picked up overwhelming curiosity from the masked figure who had looked into his eyes so searchingly. But there had been another emotion radiating from her as well. Something much more basic and unambiguous. This was a woman whose expectations had not been met. The overriding emotion he had sensed from her could be summed up in one word.