kiddie shots in K-Mart on Saturday mornings.”
“My wife was a photographer,” I said.
“Was?”
“My ex-wife, I should say.”
“You’re divorced.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I looked quickly at her, but she was smiling at the television. I pushed myself up out of the chair. “Well, Miss Kriegel…”
She glanced up at me. “Heather, please. Funny name, huh? You know how some parents want a boy, so they name their daughters things like Bobby and Sam and Joey? My parents wanted a WASP. They hoped I’d be tall and blonde and become a cheerleader and play the harp and go to Vassar. So they named me Heather. When they saw what I was going to look like they gave it all up. Are you a WASP, Mr. Coyne?”
“I’m a mutt,” I said. “A little of this, a little of that. The surname’s Irish. All sorts of other things in the genes. And call me Brady, for God’s sake.”
“Sturdy American stock,” she said. “Stu, of course, was a WASP. His parents didn’t exactly approve of our liaison. I assume there’s a connection there somewhere.”
I nodded.
“You sure you don’t want to be my lawyer?” That mocking, wry grin was back.
I shrugged. “Sorry.”
She nodded. “Okay. You said you could recommend somebody.”
“I can.”
“Well, who?”
I took one of my business cards from my wallet and wrote a name and phone number on the back of it. I handed it to Heather Kriegel. “This is the name of an excellent young attorney. He’s better than me.”
She cocked her head and nodded solemnly as she took the card from me. She squinted at what I had written. “What is this guy, a Greek?”
“Why—does it matter?”
“Not at all. I’m just interested in things like that.”
“As a matter of fact, he’s black.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
I was still standing, and Heather was still curled in the chair in front of the television. I held my hand to her. “I have to leave. Nice to have met you.”
She took my hand and held it. Her grip was firm. “Those notebooks. I am serious about that, you know.”
“My number’s on that card. Call and remind me.”
She nodded. “You can count on it.”
FIVE
B EN WOODHOUSE CALLED ME two days later. “Couple of odds and ends,” he said.
“Such as what?”
“Stu’s condo, for one. The Jewish girl is reluctant to move out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Stu’s girlfriend. Maybe you met her. She was at the house Sunday.”
“Sure I met her. What about her?”
I heard Ben sigh. “They lived together in a condominium in Sudbury. Now that Stu is gone, naturally the place ought to revert to his family. But the girl indicates she’s not moving. She evidently is prepared to fight this in court.”
I decided not to tell Ben right then that I had recommended a damn good lawyer to her. But it did occur to me that I was Ben’s lawyer, and he was now asking me to demonstrate that I was worth that hefty retainer he paid me. “If the place is in Stu’s name,” I said carefully, “I don’t see what the problem is.”
“That is the problem. Stu put it in her name.”
“Off the top of my head, then, I’d say it’s legally hers.”
“I don’t think this is a matter that will lend itself to top-of-the-head opinions, Brady.” He hesitated. “Actually, between the two of us, that’s perfectly all right with me. It’s Meriam. She wants it back.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Christ, I don’t know. She never liked Stu’s arrangement. She’s found some way to blame the girl for what happened to Stu. She says he bought the place with Woodhouse money, the place should belong to the Woodhouses. You know Meriam.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do know Meriam. Okay, Ben. I’ll look into it. But unless there’s something there that doesn’t meet the eye, my advice is to forget it.”
“Meriam is very definite about this.”
“I don’t doubt it. What are we talking about here, a hundred and fifty thousand
“My wife was a photographer,” I said.
“Was?”
“My ex-wife, I should say.”
“You’re divorced.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I looked quickly at her, but she was smiling at the television. I pushed myself up out of the chair. “Well, Miss Kriegel…”
She glanced up at me. “Heather, please. Funny name, huh? You know how some parents want a boy, so they name their daughters things like Bobby and Sam and Joey? My parents wanted a WASP. They hoped I’d be tall and blonde and become a cheerleader and play the harp and go to Vassar. So they named me Heather. When they saw what I was going to look like they gave it all up. Are you a WASP, Mr. Coyne?”
“I’m a mutt,” I said. “A little of this, a little of that. The surname’s Irish. All sorts of other things in the genes. And call me Brady, for God’s sake.”
“Sturdy American stock,” she said. “Stu, of course, was a WASP. His parents didn’t exactly approve of our liaison. I assume there’s a connection there somewhere.”
I nodded.
“You sure you don’t want to be my lawyer?” That mocking, wry grin was back.
I shrugged. “Sorry.”
She nodded. “Okay. You said you could recommend somebody.”
“I can.”
“Well, who?”
I took one of my business cards from my wallet and wrote a name and phone number on the back of it. I handed it to Heather Kriegel. “This is the name of an excellent young attorney. He’s better than me.”
She cocked her head and nodded solemnly as she took the card from me. She squinted at what I had written. “What is this guy, a Greek?”
“Why—does it matter?”
“Not at all. I’m just interested in things like that.”
“As a matter of fact, he’s black.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
I was still standing, and Heather was still curled in the chair in front of the television. I held my hand to her. “I have to leave. Nice to have met you.”
She took my hand and held it. Her grip was firm. “Those notebooks. I am serious about that, you know.”
“My number’s on that card. Call and remind me.”
She nodded. “You can count on it.”
FIVE
B EN WOODHOUSE CALLED ME two days later. “Couple of odds and ends,” he said.
“Such as what?”
“Stu’s condo, for one. The Jewish girl is reluctant to move out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Stu’s girlfriend. Maybe you met her. She was at the house Sunday.”
“Sure I met her. What about her?”
I heard Ben sigh. “They lived together in a condominium in Sudbury. Now that Stu is gone, naturally the place ought to revert to his family. But the girl indicates she’s not moving. She evidently is prepared to fight this in court.”
I decided not to tell Ben right then that I had recommended a damn good lawyer to her. But it did occur to me that I was Ben’s lawyer, and he was now asking me to demonstrate that I was worth that hefty retainer he paid me. “If the place is in Stu’s name,” I said carefully, “I don’t see what the problem is.”
“That is the problem. Stu put it in her name.”
“Off the top of my head, then, I’d say it’s legally hers.”
“I don’t think this is a matter that will lend itself to top-of-the-head opinions, Brady.” He hesitated. “Actually, between the two of us, that’s perfectly all right with me. It’s Meriam. She wants it back.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Christ, I don’t know. She never liked Stu’s arrangement. She’s found some way to blame the girl for what happened to Stu. She says he bought the place with Woodhouse money, the place should belong to the Woodhouses. You know Meriam.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do know Meriam. Okay, Ben. I’ll look into it. But unless there’s something there that doesn’t meet the eye, my advice is to forget it.”
“Meriam is very definite about this.”
“I don’t doubt it. What are we talking about here, a hundred and fifty thousand
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