The Best Laid Plans by Sidney Sheldon

“According to my information, Jackie, they found the boy’s fingerprints in the hotel room where she was killed.”

Jackie Houston said, “The newspapers said that it…that it happened in the Imperial Suite at the Monroe Arms.”

“Yes.”

“Oliver, Chloe was on a small allowance. Paul’s father was a retired clerk. Where did Chloe get the money for the Imperial Suite?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Someone has to find out. I won’t leave until I know who is responsible for the death of my daughter.” She frowned. “Chloe had an appointment to see you that afternoon. Did you see her?”

There was a brief hesitation. “No. I wish I had. Unfortunately, an emergency came up, and I had to cancel our appointment.”

In an apartment at the other end of town, lying in bed, their naked bodies spooned together, he could feel the tension in her.

“Are you okay, JoAnn?”

“I’m fine, Alex.”

“You seem far away, baby. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” JoAnn McGrath said.

“Nothing?”

“Well, to tell the truth, I was thinking about that poor little girl who was murdered at the hotel.”

“Yeah, I read about it. She was some governor’s daughter.”

“Yes.”

“Do the police know who she was with?”

“No. They were all over the hotel questioning everybody.”

“You, too?”

“Yeah. All I could tell them was about the telephone call.”

“What telephone call?”

“The one someone in that suite made to the White House.”

He was suddenly still. He said casually, “That doesn’t mean anything. Everybody gets a kick out of calling the White House. Do that to me again, baby. Got any more maple syrup?”

Frank Lonergan had just returned to his office from the airport when the phone rang. “Lonergan.”

“Hello, Mr. Lonergan. This is Shallow Throat.” Alex Cooper, a small-time parasite who fancied himself a Watergate-class tipster. It was his idea of a joke. “Are you still paying for hot tips?”

“Depends on how hot.”

“This one will burn your ass. I want five thousand dollars for it.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t hang up. It’s about that girl who was murdered at the Monroe Arms.”

Frank Lonergan was suddenly interested. “What about her?”

“Can you and me meet somewhere?”

“I’ll see you at Ricco’s in half an hour.”

At two o’clock, Frank Lonergan and Alex Cooper were in a booth at Ricco’s. Alex Cooper was a thin weasel of a man, and Lonergan hated doing business with him. Lonergan wasn’t sure where Cooper got his information, but he had been very helpful in the past.

“I hope you’re not wasting my time,” Lonergan said.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s a waste of time. How would you feel if I told you there’s a White House connection to the girl’s murder?” There was a smug smile on his face.

Frank Lonergan managed to conceal his excitement. “Go on.”

“Five thousand dollars?”

“One thousand.”

“Two.”

“You have a deal. Talk.”

“My girlfriend’s a telephone operator at the Monroe Arms.”

“What’s her name?”

“JoAnn McGrath.”

Lonergan made a note. “So?”

“Someone in the Imperial Suite made a telephone call to the White House during the time the girl was there.”

“I think the president is involved,” Leslie Stewart had said. “Are you sure about this?”

“Horse’s mouth.”

“I’ll check it out. If it’s true, you’ll get your money. Have you mentioned this to anyone else?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Don’t.” Lonergan rose. “We’ll keep in touch.”

“There’s one more thing,” Cooper said.

Lonergan stopped. “Yes?”

“You’ve got to keep me out of this. I don’t want JoAnn to know that I talked to anyone about it.”

“No problem.”

And Alex Cooper was alone, thinking about how he was going to spend the two thousand dollars without JoAnn’s knowing about it.

The Monroe Arms switchboard was in a cubicle behind the lobby reception desk. When Lonergan walked in carrying a clipboard, JoAnn McGrath was on duty. She was saying into the mouthpiece, “I’m ringing for you.”

She connected a call and turned to Lonergan. “Can I help you?”

“Telephone Company,” Lonergan said. He flashed some identification. “We have a problem here.”

JoAnn McGrath looked at him, surprised. “What kind of problem?”

“Someone reported that they’re being charged for calls they didn’t make.” He pretended to consult the clipboard. “October fifteenth. They were charged for a call to Germany, and they don’t even know anyone in Germany. They’re pretty teed off.”

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