"With you and our Russian friend practically waving flags, how could I not?"
Inside the d'Aubigné Room, Sigrid paused by one of the technicians who was dusting the table where the body had been found, looking for usable prints. She gave him Flythe's card, explained what she wanted, and received his promise to develop any fingerprints on the card for comparison with Fred Hamilton's when the FBI passed them on.
A photographer was dispatched to the Bontemps Room.
"Make it look as if you're merely following the usual routine," Sigrid told her, "but try to get a clear profile and
full frontal of Flythe without letting him know it.".
"Gotcha," the girl grinned.
"I mean it," Sigrid said seriously. "If he's who I think he is, he made J. Edgar Hoover's list fifteen years ago. I don't want him scared into bolting."
"He won't feel a thing," the photographer promised. "Trust me, ma'am."
While Sigrid heard progress reports and detailed an officer to locate Pernell Johnson's girlfriend among the maids, Alan Knight had gone ahead, ostensibly to put Miss Baldwin at ease.
Molly tried to return the smile the naval officer gave her as he put his hat down on the table, smoothed his straw-colored hair, and opened the note pad. He was very friendly looking, she thought, and abruptly found herself wishing he was a police officer and not a Navy lieutenant, one of her cousin's colleagues.
By now she knew that he hadn't known Teejy, but he couldn't have missed hearing that awful Russian bellowing about being T. J. Dixon's cousin; so the mere fact that he was in the Navy made things even more unsettling.
"Do you want coffee or something?" he asked solicitously. "I could probably send for it, if you like."
"No, nothing," she said. He seemed so nice. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad, after all. "Will it be much longer, do you think? There's so much-"
"I'm sure it won't be. Lieutenant Harald's very thorough, but you don't have to worry. You just tell her what you did this morning and that'll be that. They say she can be pretty rough at times, but as long as you're telling the truth, you'll be fine. Okay?"
Molly's heart sank. "Okay," she murmured faintly.
Her small hands clenched into involuntary fists in her lap as she watched Lieutenant Harald's approach. The tall policewoman seated herself across the table. Her wide gray eyes were unsmiling and her voice was professionally cool as she said, "Now then, Ms. Baldwin."
21
EARLIER that day, Sigrid had spoken to Alan Knight of professionalism and objectivity, yet it was not objectivity but the experienced value of thoroughness that now made her question Molly Baldwin as carefully as any of the others. At this point, she truly believed that John Sutton was the intended target of Friday night's explosion; therefore she saw no point in shilly-shallying over minor points.
"Why did you lie about your relationship with Commander Dixon?" she asked the girl baldly.
"I didn't! I really wasn't sure at first it was her and then when I knew…" Her voice died away under Sigrid's openly skeptical gaze.
"I-It's not what you think," Molly stammered.
Alan Knight gave her an encouraging smile. "We're sure it's not, Miss Baldwin, but you have to admit it's a little odd."
Molly turned to him gratefully. "You see, Teejy-that's what I've always called her-we had this awful fight last summer. I was really having trouble finding a decent job after college and she got really uptight and cut off my allowance just like that! It wasn't fair. So I got mad and we hadn't written or anything since. It was a totally unreal summer. I was so broke. Then I landed a job at one of the resort hotels and that led to this. My training probation's up next month. Everything was going pretty good and I thought Madame Ronay would probably offer me a permanent position but I didn't want to tell Teejay until I knew for sure."
"So on Friday night you were still angry with Commander Dixon?" asked Sigrid.
"Oh, that's not why I didn't say we were cousins."
"Then why, Ms. Baldwin?"
"Because of the tournament," she said, as if it were obvious. "When I saw her name on the pairing chart, I freaked. I didn't know what to do. She's crazy about cards and the tournament's nots upposed to be open to family members of the staff and Teejy's my family, see?"
Clearly they did not.
"Well, I couldn't pop up two days before the tournament started when it was too late for her to get her entry fee back and all and say 'Here I am and you can't play because I work here,' now could I?"
Was the girl as naive as she appeared? wondered Sigrid. Did she really think the term 'immediate family' covered a cousin she hadn't spoken to in over a year?
"I was petrified that Madame or Mr. Flythe would find out." H
Evidently she was that naive.
"Ms. Baldwin-"
"Oh, I know it was wrong of me, but what else could I do? I left a message on Teejy's answering machine to pretend not to know me if we met unexpectedly and she did. And then when the bomb went off-It's been so horrible for me! I haven't known what to do."
Her pretty blue eyes began to resemble rain-drenched forget-me-nots again.
Sigrid glanced at Alan Knight. There was a faint expression of distaste on hisf ace and she gave him a nudge under the table. Immediately, he made soothing noises and proffered his handkerchief.
"Please, you won't tell them, will you?" she asked, dabbing at her eyes.
"Only if it becomes unavoidable," Sigrid assured her expressionlessly.
"The hospital won't give me any details over the telephone," moaned Molly. "I guess I could have gone down, but if she was unconscious, that wouldn't do her any good, would it? And I was afraid you'd have someone there, you see, and then you'd know"
She looked at Alan Knight timidly. "She's going to be okay, isn't she? I mean, she's not going to die or anything?"
"No," Knight said tightly. "They expect her to live."
"Oh great!" she said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
Hastily, Sigrid asked, "Lieutenant Knight, would you ask somebody to get us something to drink? I'd like coffee. Black. Ms. Baldwin?"
"Ginger ale, please."
Wordlessly, Knight went himself.
So much for good cop/bad cop, thought Sigrid.
By the time he returned, with their beverages on a tray and his distaste on hold, she had led Molly back over Friday night again. The girl still insisted that she hadn't particularly noticed Pernell Johnson's movements. She did, however, remember Ted Flythe's.
"He rushed around and helped change the ashtrays with the rest of us. The cut-glass ones are so much prettier, but harder to clean and with cardplayers-Mr. George has to put out fresh ones every three hours. Those people smoke like chimneys."
Alan Knight glanced at Sigrid, who acknowledged with a slight nod how easy Flythe might have found it to switch one cribbage board while everyone else was switching hundreds of ashtrays.
"Let's move on to today," said Sigrid. "Several people say you spoke to Pernell Johnson at the service door shortly before the ten-thirty break."
"That's right. I didn't know his name though. I was asking him to keep an eye on the ash stands on the landing.
Madame Ronay has a thing about dirtys and. People can be so messy. They dropc hewing gum off there, or leave candyw rappers. So I asked him to tend themd uring the break."
"And did he?"
"I guess I forgot to look."
"Madame Ronay stopped in at the
Bontemps Room during the break tol ook for you. She says you weren't theret hen."
"No, I'd gone down to my office."
"But she'd just come from there andd idn't find you."
"We must have just missed each other. Mr. Flythe had given me the copies you wanted of the pairings and after I spoke to the busboy, I went on down the back way. I put the sheets in a folder for you, took care of some things on my desk, and then returned by the grand staircase about forty-five minutes later."