“Well, I’m honored, of course. Do you think perhaps we should cancel the Cinco de Mayo party?”
There was a pause. “No, I don’t. Vic tells me we’ve sold a large number of tickets for it. There will be almost as many more sold at the door. We can’t afford to cancel the party-or to lose the support and enthusiasm of those people. We’ll go ahead with it.”
“All right. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hung up the phone, imagining a heavy weight descending onto my shoulders. Days ago I would have given anything to be running the museum. Now the thought of it just made me tired.
“What are you doing in here?” It was Lieutenant Kirk, and he looked furious.
“Calling our board chairman.”
“Don’t you know better than to mess with the deceased’s desk before I’ve had a chance to go through it?”
“All I did was use the phone!”
“That doesn’t matter. Come on. I need to talk to you anyway.”
I stood up, feeling even more tired. “I told you everything I know.”
He looked at me. Again, I couldn’t read his expression. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll go over it once more. Certain inconsistencies in your statement have come to light.”
Inconsistencies? What did that mean? I followed Kirk back to my own office.
The office smelled of cigarette smoke, and the ashtray was full of butts. A coffee cup sat on a stack of papers. Kirk certainly was making himself at home. The lieutenant plunked himself in my swivel chair, and I sat down across the desk from him, feeling displaced.
“What did your board chairman say?” he asked.
“That we’re to refer press questions to your department. I’ll tell them at the press conference.”
“Why have one at all?”
“I’m also to announce that I’ve been named acting director.”
“Acting director? Come up in the world, haven’t you?”
I looked sharply at him, but his face was blank.
“All right.”‘ He consulted a legal pad on the desk in front of him. “I see here that a couple of your people are not on the premises. Mr. Ibarra…”
“Tony’s at home sick. His wife called in. He’s supposed to call me back.”
Kirk nodded. “And Miss De La Cruz?”
“She and Mr. Herrera are at the De Palma home.”
“Mr. Herrera?”
“He’s an artist. Actually he isn’t on staff, but he was supposed to be here for the press preview. He’s one of our best known contemporary exhibitors.”
“You have home addresses for these people?”
“Yes.” I motioned at my Rolodex.
Again Kirk nodded.
“Lieutenant Kirk,” I said, “what about these inconsistencies you mentioned? I’d like to clear them up so I can get on with my work.”
“What work is that?”
“Well, the press conference. And notifying our other board members so they can schedule time for a meeting.”
“Taking charge rather quickly, aren’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.
“Inconsistencies. Yes.” Kirk leafed through his legal pad. “Let’s see. You say the big tree of life arrived yesterday morning about eleven o’clock.”‘
“Yes.”
“And Mr. De Palma wanted it displayed for the press preview.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t, however.”
“If you mean I didn’t want it displayed, no.”
“Will you go over your reasons for that again, please.”
I took a breath. “The arbol de la vida is an ancient Mexican symbol. Some of them are quite beautiful. Most being created today, however, are a far cry from the originals. They are garish, unaesthetic. Tourists buy them, as they do those terrible paintings on velvet. They make a mockery of a sacred thing.”
“And you felt this particular tree was a mockery.”
“Yes.”
“How is it that Mrs. Cunningham presented this mockery to the museum?”
“Isabel meant well. She liked the tree. Some people do like them, you know.”
“But not you.”
“Most curators would have questioned the wisdom of displaying it.” What were these questions leading to?
“Then, what you’re saying, Miss Oliverez, is that Mrs. Cunningham has bad taste.”
“No.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “She’s not an art expert, that’s all. She didn’t realize it would reflect badly on our collections to include such a tree. But that doesn’t mean she has bad taste. If everyone were an art expert, we wouldn’t need curators. We’re here to select, to show the public the most definitive pieces… Oh, Por Dios!”
“What’s the matter?”
“This has nothing to do with Frank’s murder.”
“I’ll decide that, Miss Oliverez. If everyone were a crime expert, there wouldn’t be policemen.”
My temper flared. What right did he have to parody my statement about curators?
Kirk evidently saw the anger on my face. He smiled nastily. “You have quite a temper, don’t you?”
“Only when I’m pushed.”
He nodded and looked down at his paper. “All right. If this tree was such a mockery, as you put it, why would Mr. De Palma want to display it?”
“To please Isabel, of course.”
“Was he fond of Mrs. Cunningham?”
“I don’t understand.”
“He must have been fond of her, to want to please her by displaying an ugly tree of life.”
The man was baiting me, and that made me even more angry. “He was trying to please her because she has money. Surely you’ve heard of the influence of money, Lieutenant?”
He didn’t rise to that. Instead, he made a note on his legal pad and said, “What did you tell Mr. De Palma when he said you must display the tree?”
“I told him we shouldn’t.”
“And?”
“He insisted, so we put it on display.”
“Is that all you told him, Miss Oliverez?”
I felt a nervous tightening in my stomach. “There wasn’t anything else I could tell him. He was director here.”
Kirk paged through the pad. “Let me read to you from my notes on my interview with Mr. Leary: ‘Frank told Elena to do it, to set the tree up. She blew her top. She has quite a temper, but I’ve never seen her that mad. She called Frank a son of a bitch. She told him someone ought to kill him.” “ Kirk looked up. ”Is that what happened, Miss Oliverez?“ His mild brown eyes watched mine.
Oh, Vic! Why had he told Kirk about that? “It… happened,” I said.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“There’s nothing else to say. It happened. But I didn’t mean it. You say things in anger, but you don’t carry them out.”
He made a notation on the pad. “Let’s talk about the alarm system here. I take it you’re familiar with it.”
“Yes.”
“How does it work?”
“It’s a simple household system. If anyone opens any of the doors while it’s on, a loud bell rings.”
“What about the windows?”
“They’re not on the system. Since they’re all barred, it isn’t necessary.”
“How many doors are wired?”
“Three. The front, the loading dock, and the courtyard outside Frank’s office.”
Kirk frowned. “What about the doors to the central courtyard?”
“Not necessary. The only way into the courtyard is through the front door. The rear courtyard, the one outside Frank’s office, opens to the parking lot, as you’ve seen. The entry is protected by the padlocked gate.”
“All right.” He doodled on his pad. “How do you set the alarm?”
“Two ways. If you’re inside, there’s a toggle switch beside each door. Flipping it sets the alarm on all three doors. From the outside you have to use a key. That does the same thing-sets all three, no matter which door you use.”
“And the keys? Who has them?”
“There are only two. Mine and Frank’s.”
“And where is yours now?”