I pinned my gaze on the boy with the bloody nose. I had to remember these were elementary school kids. Both Elsie and the boy were a head taller than EG, and probably a year or two older. That didn’t induce me to sympathize with them either.
“Why did she feel compelled to hit you?” I asked.
The boy squirmed in his pretty white Nikes. “I pushed her,” he muttered. “She was calling Elsie names.”
I sensed Tex taking a step forward, but I cut him off at the pass. I doubted if he knew anything about school bullies, but I could have written a book. And I wasn’t talking about Bloody-Nose Guy either. Still, I avoided looking at the prissy missy in pink. “You pushed Elizabeth?” I arched my eyebrows articulately. “She’s nine and you are how old?”
“Miss Devlin, I’m the authority here. We can discuss this separately with Brian’s—”
“No.” I shot Appleby a steely gaze that was pure Magda. “I want the story from the source, not wrapped in bubble wrap and ribbons.”
“Mah daughter has nevah caused a hint of trouble in her life.” Apparently recovering from the shock of my entrance, Tex attempted to regain the floor. “You cain’t talk to her and Brian as if they’re convicted criminals.”
I gave him a ruby smile of evil sweetness. “Elsie has never encountered someone willing to stand up to her bullying is my wager. But let’s not choose sides until we have all the facts, all right, Senator?”
No introductions had been made. He couldn’t know for certain who I was, especially if he thought I was EG’s mother. I ought to rip his throat out for that alone. Not even recognizing his own daughter was a crime so high on my hostility meter that I didn’t dare touch it.
I returned to interrogating the pretty pair trying to look innocent. I knew EG was capable of terrorizing the entire school if she desired. The fact that she’d chosen the senator’s daughter did not bode well. But I figured it took all three to create a brawl.
“Would one of you care to explain why Elizabeth felt compelled to hurl insults?” I continued my questioning. “It’s not something she does without reason.”
“Elsie didn’t do anything,” Blond Boy said defensively, while Elsie just looked as defiant as EG. A certain similarity in sisterhood was arising.
I nodded understandingly. “I see. Elsie can’t speak. How distressing. Does she stutter?”
Behind me, EG sniggered, and Tex started to roar. I swung around and pinned him with a glare. “Unless you’ve cut her tongue out, let the child speak for herself.”
“I do not stutter. I merely asked if she was taking the subway again today.” Elsie finally spoke up, apparently to prove she didn’t stutter.
“Ah, I see, and this is where she called you a crass, hypocritical waste of humanity?”
“No, first EG called us nattering nabobs of conspicuous consumption when Elsie asked what kind of limo EG’s father had,” Brian offered helpfully.
Interesting that Elizabeth Georgiana was already reduced to EG. So much for my trying to give her a new image. Like, a new name would change the image of any child calling another a nabob? But I could see where this was going. It was my turn to spin a smug smile on good ol’ Tex. He didn’t flinch, so I guess he just didn’t quite get it yet. It was time he did.
Throwing caution to the wind, I turned back to the clueless Brian. “EG’s dad has the same limo as Elsie’s dad does. I assume some label was applied to one who rides subways?” I arched my eyebrow inquiringly.
“She does not have the same limo as my dad does!” Elsie replied furiously. “My dad is the only dad with a Pierce-Arrow. It’s the only one in the whole city. And she’s just a smarmy little upstart who doesn’t belong with the rest of us. She doesn’t even have a cell phone.”
“Smarmy upstart. My, the vocabulary does seem to come naturally, doesn’t it, Senator? Right along with respect and obedience?” I turned to Tex. “Shall I continue the interrogation to see if this gets any sweeter?”
Tex ignored me to glare at the principal. “Applebay...” I swear, that’s how he pronounced it. “Ah won’t have mah daughter corrupted by creatures of this ilk. Ah was told this heah is a refined establishment, and the students are properly vetted before admittance. Ah’ll not pay the outrageous tuition for mah daughter to be insulted in this mannah.”
Appleby looked as if he’d like to slide under his desk and hide until this was over. He started turning purple, so I generously came to his rescue. “Senator, I will not resort to the name-calling of a child. If you would like Elizabeth’s credentials, the school has them on file. If you would like her ancestry examined, I will be happy to call her mother. Magda can be here tomorrow, if she must. Would you like that?”
I was being so upright and polite, I didn’t even give him my evil smile. I just waited for the name to register.
It did. There for a minute, I thought he might choke on his tongue. He looked from me to EG, and a slow flush crept up his starched shirt collar. Tex was slow, but not totally dumb. I think maybe he finally grasped the significance of EG’s dad having the same limo as Elsie’s.
I’d just insulted and indirectly blackmailed a man accused of murdering his aide for lesser crimes. Not the smartest move of my career, but I was flying high on fury and adrenaline and couldn’t kick the nattering out of his nabobs in front of others.
“Ah’m sure that won’t be necessary,” he said in a strangled voice. “Applebay can arrange to have the children kept to different classrooms. If you will speak to your...”
“Sister,” I completed for him.
He sighed, then shook his head. “Of course. Your sister. Ah will speak with Elsie. Ah’m sure we can overcome this minor outburst, and everyone can return to bidness.”
“Thank you, Senator. Mr. Appleby, I’ll take Elizabeth home with me now. I expect better precautions will be taken in the future to prevent brawls in the hallways, and I assume your classes will teach courtesy and respect for individual differences. Come along, EG. I need to explain the facts of life to you again.”
I didn’t turn to see if she stuck her tongue out at anyone. I would have stuck out mine, but EG’s more mature than I was at that age. She obediently hopped up from her chair and trotted out after me as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
As if her father hadn’t just pretended he wasn’t her father.
~
EG knew what she had to do now.
Peering around the corner to be certain neither Nick or Ana was nearby, she slipped down the hall to Ana’s laptop. She had a textbook in hand to show she was doing homework should anyone ask.
Piling a stack of pillows in the office chair, she settled in front of the computer and called up the e-mail program she’d used the other night. She’d thought and thought about this. She hated doing anything dumb, but today’s episode required action.
She’d watched her father watching Ana this afternoon. In that halter dress, Ana had looked an awful lot like a shorter version of Magda, except for the hair color of course, and there had been something in Tex’s eyes that said he’d been remembering the past. What would happen if Magda and Tex got together again?
If her father would only confide in her, EG knew she could help him solve the problem with the police. Magda knew lots of important people. Maybe she could help. Between them, they’d prove he’d been framed. And then maybe he’d notice her existence.
She knew better than to say that to her mother. She was playing with fire to even contemplate this. She was counting on Ana to save her if her plan blew up in her face. Ana might hide in dark rooms, but she could be counted on to fly out on her broom and whisk trouble in the face when forced. EG hated forcing Ana into action, but today had been enlightening, and despite the humiliation, almost as entertaining as the Italian nanny episode.
Carefully, she composed her e-mail to her mother. We have moved into Grandfather’s house. I am going to a private school. They use the same dumb books as the public school, only with fancier covers. My soci
al studies book says world economy depends on oil, and that oil companies protect the environment better than alternative fuels. How feeble is that?
Magda thought that oil, next to money, was the root of all evil.
Then, to add fuel to the flames, she fired off a note to Magda’s maid, EG’s best friend in the household. I met my father and his legitimate daughter today. I beat up her boyfriend.
Smiling, EG hit the Send button, then settled down to compose another e-mail to Robert Hagan. Her last reply had bounced, but she’d discovered a new e-mail address for him in the directory for the GSA. She didn’t know why someone who worked with education had a GSA address, but she was just learning about American government.
She thought it quite interesting that the committee Hagan chaired recommended schoolbooks to the public school system. Perhaps he should be advised that he was recommending erroneous propaganda. Or would he already know that?
For the first time, EG wished she had a PhD to put after her name as she compiled a detailed memo of the errors she’d located so far in her books. Wanting to be as correct as an adult, she jumped down from her chair and went looking for her encyclopedia.
Maybe if she did this well enough, Hagan would wish to talk to her, and then she could question him about her dad. Nick and Ana didn’t seem to be making any progress on the investigation, so she’d have to speed them along.
~
“That’s two schools in three days, Nick. We can’t pull her out because of a minor altercation with a snot.” I spun around in the library chair and contemplated the Don Quixote poster I suspected covered a camera. I thought my head might explode from thinking so hard. Perhaps I ought to remove the poster so Graham could record the explosion.
I had a scary thought. “Did you run into the good Senator on your first day of work? Can he recognize you?”
Sprawling his long legs across the wine and navy Oriental carpet, crossing his hands across his flat abdomen, Nick looked half asleep, but he didn’t fool me.
“I was in school in England that time Magda was in Spain, if you’ll remember,” he said. “ I don’t think he knows the names of his assistants except as ‘hey, son.' But he should have recognized you the instant you walked in.”
Remembering how Tex had stared, I shrugged. “He sees a lot of people in his work, and it’s been ten years. He thought I was EG’s mother. It took him a little while to place me.”
“So now he knows you know about his little peccadillo. You could blackmail him into tomorrow by threatening to tell his wife. You’d really hang the guillotine over his head if you threatened to tell the press. He’d be justified in wanting you murdered. I think you and EG ought to retire to some obscure hotel in Kansas while I run down to St. Kitts.”
“Excellent idea,” the intercom said mechanically, but I still heard the malicious intent behind the interruption.
I glared at the black box. “I am allowed to have a few hours of personal time, aren’t I? Even slaves are given a night’s rest.”
“Balancing what you have accomplished professionally today against the hours spent on personal activities, it seems to me that you’re taking a holiday. Have you located Pao’s limo service yet?”
“He’s not using any of the usual ones, all right?”
Nick crossed his ankles and looked on with interest as I argued with a box.
I called up my document file on the Whiz. “There is my list of contacts. I am now working my way through the independent drivers, but most of them won’t reveal the names of their clients. I can’t blame them. I have tried saying Mr. Pao would like to cancel his reservation, but so far, no one has heard of him. Most of them have sensibly asked for the pickup address, which I obviously cannot provide, although I’ve used the address from the warehouse and the Cambodian embassy as well. If you can do this any better, why do you need me?”
“Excellent question, Miss Devlin. I have been asking myself the same thing.” The intercom clicked off.
“Go ahead, get your kicks by having the last word,” I muttered. I hated failure, and I hated disappointing someone who’d trusted my talents, but it looked like I was racking up big goose eggs all across the board.
“He wants us out of here,” Nicholas reminded me.
I looked around at the library lined with volumes I might never have time to peruse. I caressed the Cobalt Whiz with longing and contemplated the ornate plaster on the ceiling. I had a sense of connection here that I felt nowhere else. D.C. was a sprawling city with a nasty reputation, but this house belonged to us. A home was worth fighting for.
“We’ll have to take EG to school and pick her up every day,” I decided. “I can’t believe Tex would attack his own daughter, but I’ll feel better keeping an eye on her.”
“He has enough problems without bringing Magda flying back here. I think she’s safe enough. And we can take care of ourselves. Here, I brought you a present.” Nick slipped a couple of large cards from his inside coat pocket and threw them on the desk.
They were engraved invitations to Senator Paul Rose’s fundraising reception on Friday night. I admired them with trepidation—and pride at Nick’s resourcefulness. Then I covered them with a legal pad so a camera couldn’t see them. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown. Forged?” I mouthed, hoping Graham couldn’t read lips if there were more cameras in here.
Nick nodded. “Tex had a handful of them. Computers can imitate anything.” He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “You can wear your little black dress.”
I greeted that observation with a few appropriate phrases. “Just because I went out once looking like Model Number Nine—”
“Quit pretending you’re not female. You look like Magda,” Nick reminded me. “That’s why Tex believed you without question. Use what you have instead of hiding it.”
As much as I’d like to believe I could slay dragons with a seductive flash of my Irish green eyes, I looked down at my B-cup chest and snorted. “Right. Half a cantalope on each side ought to do the trick, but I think hiding it is the better way to go.”
“It’s all in how you wear it, mushroom. You have better ideas on how to locate your suspect?” He shot the intercom a look that dared it to interrupt. We held our breaths, hoping Graham wasn’t listening or wasn’t following our guarded conversation.
“I can keep working on the connections between Edu-Pub, Pao, and the good senators,” I finally said when the intercom didn’t scream. “Maybe Pao helped them with fundraising in the Islamic community, and they agreed to serve on the board of directors without knowing more.”
“And maybe they’re all thieves looking for a cover-up. You’re not going to find out with a computer,” Nick scoffed, rising from the chair. “You need jewelry to go with that dress.”
He was referring to the reception that Graham didn’t want me to attend. I circled my fingers on the legal pad covering the invitations and bit my tongue. I wanted to nail Pao. Nick had given me the means.
He sauntered out, completely confident of his social skills and certain we’d locate Pao in a crush of wealthy humanity. I’d rather turn myself into a valet and watch everyone entering the party. I’d had enough of Magda for a lifetime without imitating her.
I turned back to my computer just in time to see an instant message to Tweety Bird flash across my screen. I’ve traced your e-mail address, Miss Devlin. Stay out of what you don’t understand, or someone will get hurt.
I spent the rest of the evening frantically attempting to hack into the server of the return address displayed, with no success.
How could anyone except my clients know my private screen name?
Chapter Seventeen
Magda arrives.
The doorbell rang at midnight.
I was up in my room, but I wasn’t sleeping. I had given up tracing the threatening instant message for the moment. If it was Graham’s idea of a joke, it was a tasteless one, but I preferred to think of it as a bad joke rather than the alternative of Pao o
r Senator Tex attempting to intimidate me. I didn’t know enough to be a threat to anyone. I was more worried that I was actually starting to understand the man in the attic. His intelligence and cynicism fascinated me. All right, he provoked my nosy curiosity, as well. I’m a sucker for a puzzle.
I was deep into looking for some connection between all my favorite people—Graham, Tex, Rose, Pao, and Magda—when the doorbell startled me into next week.
I knocked my wireless mouse off the desk and cursed. My heart started pounding as if I’d taken bad acid. Midnight was not the time for doorbells to ring.
I leaned over the wide desk and tried looking out my window, but a tall holly blocked the view of the front door. I caught the taillights of a cab pulling away from the curb.
D.C. is busy at night, but generally not with the kind of respectable streetlife inhabiting Manhattan. The mansion didn’t overlook any theaters or nightclubs or fancy restaurants. The rich ambassadors and foreign despots living in the surrounding museums didn’t walk the streets but glided silently past in limos with tinted windows. The debonair hiphoppers standing beneath the imitation gas lamps at the circle weren’t exchanging business cards.
At times like this, I almost appreciated Graham’s security system. As the doorbell rang more insistently, floodlights illuminated all corners of the house and half the street. I still couldn’t see the door. I couldn’t hear the mechanical intercom from here, either, but I didn’t doubt its operation. It was Graham’s favorite time to chat.
If he was having visitors, I wanted to see them. I had changed back to black capris and halter earlier. I was barefoot. I could be stealthy.
I slipped from my office-bedroom and down the hall to the stairway. I knew just the right corner for hiding in to look over the banister without being seen. I had the eerie feeling I had done this before, more than once.
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