“Well, I don’t know anything about that,” JoAnn said indignantly. “I don’t even remember placing any calls to Germany in the last month.”
“Do you have a record of the fifteenth?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Very well.” She found a folder under a pile of papers and handed it to him. The switchboard was buzzing. While she attended to the calls, Lonergan quickly went through the folder. October 12th…13th…14th…16th…
The page for the fifteenth was missing.
Frank Lonergan was waiting in the lobby of the Four Seasons when Jackie Houston returned from the White House.
“Governor Houston?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Frank Lonergan. I’m with the Washington Tribune. I want to tell you how sorry all of us are, Governor.”
“Thank you.”
“I wonder if I could talk to you for a minute?”
“I’m really not in the—”
“I might be able to be helpful.” He nodded toward the lounge off the main lobby. “Could we go in there for a moment?”
She took a deep breath. “All right.”
They walked into the lounge and sat down.
“I understand that your daughter went on a tour of the White House the day she…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
“Yes. She—she was on a tour with her school friends. She was very excited about meeting the president.”
Lonergan kept his voice casual. “She was going to see President Russell?”
“Yes. I arranged it. We’re old friends.”
“And did she see him, Governor Houston?”
“No. He wasn’t able to see her.” Her voice was choked. “There’s one thing I’m sure of.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Paul Yerby didn’t kill her. They were in love with each other.”
“But the police said—”
“I don’t care what they said. They arrested an innocent boy, and he—he was so upset that he hanged himself. It’s awful.”
Frank Lonergan studied her for a moment. “If Paul Yerby didn’t kill your daughter, do you have any idea who might have? I mean, did she say anything about meeting anyone in Washington?”
“No. She didn’t know a soul here. She was so looking forward to…to…” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“Of course. Thanks for your time, Governor Houston.”
Lonergan’s next stop was at the morgue. Helen Chuan was just coming out of the autopsy room.
“Well, look who’s here.”
“Hi, Doc.”
“What brings you down here, Frank?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Paul Yerby.”
Helen Chuan sighed. “It’s a damn shame. Those kids were both so young.”
“Why would a boy like that commit suicide?”
Helen Chuan shrugged. “Who knows?”
“I mean—are you sure he committed suicide?”
“If he didn’t, he gave a great imitation. His belt was wrapped around his neck so tightly that they had to cut it in half to bring him down.”
“There were no other marks or anything on his body that might have suggested foul play?”
She looked at him, curious. “No.”
Lonergan nodded. “Okay. Thanks. You don’t want to keep your patients waiting.”
“Very funny.”
There was a phone booth in the outside corridor. From the Denver information operator, Lonergan got the number of Paul Yerby’s parents. Mrs. Yerby answered the phone. Her voice sounded weary. “Hello.”
“Mrs. Yerby?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to bother you. This is Frank Lonergan. I’m with the Washington Tribune. I wanted to—”
“I can’t…”
A moment later, Mr. Yerby was on the line. “I’m sorry. My wife is…Newspapers have been bothering us all morning. We don’t want to—”
“This will only take a minute, Mr. Yerby. There are some people in Washington who don’t believe your son killed Chloe Houston.”
“Of course he didn’t!” His voice suddenly became stronger. “Paul could never, never have done anything like that.”
“Did Paul have any friends in Washington, Mr. Yerby?”
“No. He didn’t know anyone there.”
“I see. Well, if there’s anything I can do…”
“There is something you can do for us, Mr. Lonergan. We’ve arranged to have Paul’s body shipped back here, but I’m not sure how to get his possessions. We’d like to have whatever he…If you could tell me who to talk to…”
“I can handle that for you.”
“We’d appreciate it. Thank you.”