“So,” he said. “You’re a psychologist, like Claire.” Dark circles under his armpits.
“Yes,” I said.
He nodded, as if we’d reached some agreement. Sighed and placed his hands on the apex of his abdomen.
Ernestine Argent reached over and handed him the handkerchief and he dabbed at himself some more. She pulled another white triangle from her purse and pecked at her own eyes.
Milo said, “I was just telling Mr. and Mrs. Argent about the course of the investigation.”
Ernestine gave a small, involuntary cry.
“Honey,” Robert Ray said.
She said, “I’m okay, darling,” almost inaudibly, and turned to me. “Claire loved psychology.”
I nodded.
“She was all we ever really had.”
Rob Ray looked at her. Parts of his face had turned plum-colored; other sections were pink, beige, white-apple-peel mottle caused by the variable blood flow through expanses of skin. He turned to Milo. “Doesn’t sound like you’ve learned much. What’s the chance you find the devil who did it?”
“I’m always optimistic, sir. The more you and Mrs. Argent can tell us about Claire, the better our chances.”
“What else can we tell you?” said Ernestine. “No one disliked Claire; she was the nicest person.”
She cried. Rob Ray touched her shoulder with his hand.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “This isn’t helping. What do you need to know?”
“Well,” said Milo, “let’s get a basic time frame, for starters. When was the last time you saw Claire?”
“Christmas,” said Rob Ray. “She always came home for Christmas. We always had a nice family time, no exception last Christmas. She helped her mother with the cooking.
Said in L.A. she never cooked, too busy, just ate things out of cans, takeout.”
Consistent with the kitchen at Cape Horn Drive.
“Christmas,” said Milo. “Haifa year ago.”
“That’s right.” Rob Ray flexed his left foot.
“That would be right around the time Claire left County Hospital and moved to
Starkweather Hospital.”
“Guess so.”
Milo said, “Did she talk about changing jobs?”
Headshakes.
“Nothing at all?”
More silence.
Ernestine said, “She never talked about her work in specifics. We never wanted to be nosy.”
They hadn’t known. I watched Milo hide his amazement. Rob Ray tried to shift his weight on the bed. One leg cooperated.
Milo said, “Did Claire talk about any sort of problems she might be having? Someone who was giving her difficulty-at work or anywhere else?”
“No,” said Rob Ray. “She had no enemies. That I can tell you for sure.”
“How did she act during her Christmas visit?”
“Fine. Normal. Christmas was always a happy time for us. She was happy to be home, we enjoyed having her.”
“How long did she stay?”
“Four days, like always. We went to a bunch of movies; she loved her movies. Saw the
Pittsburgh Ice Extravaganza, too. When she was a little girl, she skated. The last day, she came into our store, helped us out a bit-we’re in giftware, have to stay open somewhat during the holiday season.”
“Movies,” I said. Joseph Stargill had said the same thing.
“That’s right-the whole family loves ’em,” said Rob Ray.
“She was happy, had no problems,” said Ernestine. “The only problem for us was we didn’t see her enough. But we understood, what with her career. And travel’s hard for us. The business.”
“No buck-passing when it’s yours,” said Rob Ray. “Also, I don’t travel well-my size.
But so what? This had nothing to do with Claire’s trip home or her problems. There’d be no reason for anyone to hate her; this had to be some maniac on the loose-somewhere from that place she worked.” His skin had deepened to scarlet and his words emerged between rough inhalations. “I tell you, I find out anyone put her in danger, I’ll- Let’s just say a lot of lives are going to be made miserable.”
“Darling,” said his wife, patting his knee. To us: “What my husband’s saying is,
Claire was kind and generous and sweet. No one could’ve hated her.”
“Generous to the nth,” Rob Ray agreed. “Back in high school, she was always the first to volunteer to help others. Old people at the hospital, animals at the shelter-didn’t matter, she was there at the head of the line. She loved animals especially. We used to have a dog, a little Scottie. You know how kids never take responsibility with pets, it’s always the parents who end up with it. Not our