The Governor's Wife by Michael Harvey

it?”
    “A man was shot.”
    “Son of a bitch.”
    “They took him to the hospital, but no police report was filed.”
    “Are you calling for a statement?”
    “You don’t want to fuck with these guys, Kelly. Even if you do carry a gun.”
    “I’m not looking to fuck with anybody. Someone takes a bat to my car, however, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
    “Yeah, well…”
    “Why did you call, Jack?”
    “Give me an e-mail where I can get hold of you.”
    I gave it to him. “What’s going on?”
    “Right now, nothing. In a few days, maybe we should talk.”
    “Can you give me an idea of what we’ll be talking about?”
    “Not over the phone. I’ll drop you a note.”
    There was a soft sound in the hallway. I looked up. Marie Perry stood in my doorway. “I’ll wait to hear from you, Jack.” I hung up. “Come on in.”
    She was wearing a black sweater, straight-leg jeans, and suede boots with low heels. Her hair was the color of winter wheat; her eyes looked like a couple of cold blue stones. “Is this it?” she said, taking in my workplace at a glance.
    “It’s better if you’re wearing sunglasses. Or drunk. Then again, what isn’t?”
    She walked over to my bookcase and picked out a copy of
Oedipus Rex
. Then she put it back and pulled out Euripides’s
Iphigenia at Aulis
.
    “You know the story?” I said.
    “A man cuts his daughter’s throat to appease the gods and gain himself money, glory, and power.”
    “Very good. But Agamemnon was a king. And Iphigenia was saved.”
    “Agamemnon was a man. And he intended to kill his own child so his army would be allowed to sail to Troy.” Marie slipped the book back into its slot on the shelf. “Do you work alone?”
    “Just me and the ghosts. Why don’t you sit down?” I nodded at an empty chair. She waved me off. I nudged the paper sack on my desk.
    “Bagel Deli. Best thing this side of Manhattan.”
    She shook her head.
    “Suit yourself.” I finished my bagel and pretended not to notice when she finally sat. She put her bag, a big black leather one, on the corner of my desk and crossed one leg over the other. I wiped my hands with a napkin and smiled.
    “I didn’t expect to see you so soon, Ms. Perry.”
    “But you did expect me?”
    “I’m not sure why, but yeah, I thought you might get in touch.”
    “How’s the investigation going?”
    “Haven’t found Ray yet, if that’s what you’re after.”
    “Ray’s dead, Mr. Kelly. Or as good as.”
    My chair creaked as I moved closer. “If this is a confession, I’m going to have to find a tape recorder.”
    The smile stretched across her face like a spiderweb spun from the finest silk. “I’m the last person who would want Ray dead.”
    “Did you love him?”
    “And if I did…”
    “You might be more likely to kill him.”
    “Have you ever been married, Mr. Kelly?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    I didn’t know the answer to that one. And didn’t especially like to think about it. “I’ve been in relationships.”
    “A relationship isn’t marriage. The latter has consequences, especially when you’re married to the governor of Illinois.”
    “You mean it isn’t all about Christmas at the mansion?”
    She recrossed her legs and sighed. Maybe it was all just anuisance. Maybe it was the speech she’d intended all along. I couldn’t tell but was happy to listen.
    “Here’s what happens,” she said. “You fall in love with a person. Or rather the
idea
of a person. You ever done that?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “I’m not surprised. Then you get married and discover what you really have. It’s never what you thought, but perhaps it’s something you can live with. Usually not. So you get divorced, if that’s your thing.”
    “And that wasn’t your thing?”
    “Not an option. Not for me and Ray. So we became partners.”
    “Partners in what?”
    “Raymond Perry, Inc. Charity events, fund-raisers, one rubber-chicken dinner after another. You become best