message prompted a change in Tierney’s otherwise consistent expression. He closed his eyes as though to shut them against the unpleasant truth he’d just heard and slowly shook his head. When he opened his eyes, he said, “Mac, you should have been here when I received the call about Pauline. I was devastated, damn near broke down. But I happen to be a man who believes that life is a series of problems to be solved. That takes clear, unemotional thinking. I
had
my emotional response. Now it’s time to meet any resulting problems head-on.” A smile. “As a lawyer, I’m sure you agree.”
Smith said nothing.
Tierney slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Will you represent me?” he asked.
“Represent you? For what? You haven’t been accused of anything. I no longer practice law. And unless you’ve forgotten, you have enough top-notch lawyers on retainer to make up another Supreme Court. Maybe a better one. No, you don’t need me.”
“Perhaps not in an official capacity, but as a friend and adviser? Sure, I have lawyers at my disposal, but none with your experience, Mac. We’re talking
murder
here, and I’m aware of your previous experience with
that
nasty business. All I ask is that I be able to confer with you if things get too complicated.”
“You know you can always talk to me, Wendell. Let’s leave it at that. What plans have been made for Pauline’s funeral?”
“Haven’t even thought about it. I suppose I’ll end up burying her. There isn’t anyone else. She hasn’t had any contact with her ex-husband, and as far as family goes—”
“Pauline was married?”
“Long ago. It lasted less than a year. That’s all I know. She wasn’t big on discussing personal matters. At any rate, the police are doing an autopsy. Will slow things up, I suppose.”
“Undoubtedly.” Smith stood. “I think I should go.”
He extended his hand to Tierney, who took it in both of his and pumped it. “Thanks, Mac. You know, the way you handled Eikenberg was a joy to behold. Spectacular woman, isn’t she?”
“And bright. I remember her as a student. An ability to clamp down hard on a concept, chew, digest, and understand it.”
Tierney put his hand over Smith’s shoulder and walked him through the house to the rear entrance. “Before I forget,” he said, “that private investigator of yours still in business?”
“Tony? Tony Buffolino? I wouldn’t call him my investigator. But yes, he is. Still in business. Why?”
“I may call on him again to beef up security around here and at the office.”
“You really feel you need additional security?”
“You never know, Mac. Maybe someone did this to Pauline to get at me. I have a family to protect, and I intend to do that. Your friend Buffolino did a good job last time I used him.”
“He usually does. Well, Wendell, we’ll be in touch.”
“Of course. See you and Annabel on Saturday?”
Smith frowned. “The cruise? I assumed it would be canceled, considering what’s happened.”
“No. Been scheduled for months. There’s no reason for people to have to alter their plans, especially since most of them really had very little to do with Pauline. Life goes on, Mac. So does the Saturday cruise.”
“I’ll talk to Annabel about it. Thanks for the drink.”
Smith reached his car, opened the door, and looked back at the house. Marilyn Tierney stood in a second-floor window, her face pulled down into an expression that was at once sad and angry. Smith waved. She closed the drapes.
9
An Hour Later
Annabel was rearranging a kitchen cupboard when Mac returned carrying duck pâté, salad, and a baguette from the French Market. She had to stretch to reach the top shelf, which caused her dress to ride up her legs. “Lovely sight,” Smith said, touching her hip. “Lifts your skirt and my spirits.”
“Watch it, mister,” she said, returning to a flat-footed posture and accepting his kiss. “Oh, you have a message on your machine,
had
my emotional response. Now it’s time to meet any resulting problems head-on.” A smile. “As a lawyer, I’m sure you agree.”
Smith said nothing.
Tierney slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Will you represent me?” he asked.
“Represent you? For what? You haven’t been accused of anything. I no longer practice law. And unless you’ve forgotten, you have enough top-notch lawyers on retainer to make up another Supreme Court. Maybe a better one. No, you don’t need me.”
“Perhaps not in an official capacity, but as a friend and adviser? Sure, I have lawyers at my disposal, but none with your experience, Mac. We’re talking
murder
here, and I’m aware of your previous experience with
that
nasty business. All I ask is that I be able to confer with you if things get too complicated.”
“You know you can always talk to me, Wendell. Let’s leave it at that. What plans have been made for Pauline’s funeral?”
“Haven’t even thought about it. I suppose I’ll end up burying her. There isn’t anyone else. She hasn’t had any contact with her ex-husband, and as far as family goes—”
“Pauline was married?”
“Long ago. It lasted less than a year. That’s all I know. She wasn’t big on discussing personal matters. At any rate, the police are doing an autopsy. Will slow things up, I suppose.”
“Undoubtedly.” Smith stood. “I think I should go.”
He extended his hand to Tierney, who took it in both of his and pumped it. “Thanks, Mac. You know, the way you handled Eikenberg was a joy to behold. Spectacular woman, isn’t she?”
“And bright. I remember her as a student. An ability to clamp down hard on a concept, chew, digest, and understand it.”
Tierney put his hand over Smith’s shoulder and walked him through the house to the rear entrance. “Before I forget,” he said, “that private investigator of yours still in business?”
“Tony? Tony Buffolino? I wouldn’t call him my investigator. But yes, he is. Still in business. Why?”
“I may call on him again to beef up security around here and at the office.”
“You really feel you need additional security?”
“You never know, Mac. Maybe someone did this to Pauline to get at me. I have a family to protect, and I intend to do that. Your friend Buffolino did a good job last time I used him.”
“He usually does. Well, Wendell, we’ll be in touch.”
“Of course. See you and Annabel on Saturday?”
Smith frowned. “The cruise? I assumed it would be canceled, considering what’s happened.”
“No. Been scheduled for months. There’s no reason for people to have to alter their plans, especially since most of them really had very little to do with Pauline. Life goes on, Mac. So does the Saturday cruise.”
“I’ll talk to Annabel about it. Thanks for the drink.”
Smith reached his car, opened the door, and looked back at the house. Marilyn Tierney stood in a second-floor window, her face pulled down into an expression that was at once sad and angry. Smith waved. She closed the drapes.
9
An Hour Later
Annabel was rearranging a kitchen cupboard when Mac returned carrying duck pâté, salad, and a baguette from the French Market. She had to stretch to reach the top shelf, which caused her dress to ride up her legs. “Lovely sight,” Smith said, touching her hip. “Lifts your skirt and my spirits.”
“Watch it, mister,” she said, returning to a flat-footed posture and accepting his kiss. “Oh, you have a message on your machine,
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