‘I see.’ He pauses a moment. ‘So you aren’t aware that they are having financial problems?’
‘How would I know that?’ she asks, alarmed.
‘You might have seen the mail– bills overdue, that sort of thing?’
‘No, of course not. When I’m here I pick up the mail when it comes through the slot and put it on the table in the foyer. I do not look through it.’ She’s insulted by the suggestion.
He nods at her again. ‘Okay, as I said, this is just routine, nothing to worry about.’ He hands her his card. ‘Thank you for speaking to me.’
He gets up to leave and she sees him out, locking the door behind him, uneasy. Why was he asking those questions? He said it was just routine, but it seemed like he was after something. And now she has a problem– does she tell her employers?
Ramirez exits the brownstone and climbs into his car parked on the street out front. He didn’t think he’d get anything useful out of the cleaning lady– who was dressed in a loose T-shirt and jeans; somehow he’d expected a uniform– but he wants to get under the Westcotts’ skin. The fact that he interviewed their cleaner will get back to them. They will know he’s looking more deeply into their financial situation, and that he knows they are having problems.
It might have been the perfect murder, he muses, as he drives back to the office. The more he learns, the more he thinks that what happened on theFortune Seekerwas murder. But he’ll never be able to prove it– not unless one of them talks. Maybe, if he applies sufficient pressure, Jill Westcott will crack and fess up against her husband. It’s extremely unlikely.
But at least he can enjoy making them sweat.
Chapter Eighteen
LARA HAS MADEplans to meet Jill for lunch at Bistro Maurice, a fashionable French bistro near the gallery where Jill works. It’s Wednesday, three days since the sailing accident, and she hasn’t seen Jill since the morning after it happened, when Jill looked so shaken. Lara has only spoken to her briefly on the phone. She wants to make sure Jill’s okay. It’s probably a good sign that she has gone back to work.
Her mind turns to the possible inheritance. If Ted is inheriting $45 million the lawyers might tell them to keep it quiet, but Jill will tell her, surely? Even if it’s in the strictest confidence? If theyaregoing to get all that money, Lara will be delighted for them, of course. But it will sting.
She arrives at the restaurant a few minutes early, so that she can order a prosecco before Jill arrives. As she waits, she remembers how she and Jill met, in college. They had been in the same dorm in their first year and had become close friends. As far as she knows, she is the only one who was privy to Jill’s youthfulthoughts about how it was easier to fall in love with a rich man than a poor one. That it had been an actualgoal.Years later, when she’d successfully singled out Ted, she’d taken pains to assure Lara that it was the real thing. She was in love, and money had nothing to do with it. Lara had also married money, and she loved her husband too, so it’s not like she would ever say anything.
The trouble with money, Lara thinks, is that sometimes it seems like the more you have the more you want. You never think you have enough. It’s like a sickness.
She spots Jill winding her way through the tables toward her. Jill looks as beautiful as ever in a Tom Ford dress as she greets her and sits down. The nerves of the other day appear to have vanished.
‘Jill,’ she says. ‘You’re looking better.’
‘Thanks. I’m feeling better. What are you drinking, prosecco?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll get some too,’ she says, waving the waiter over. That done, they settle in to talk.
‘How are you doing? How’s Ted?’ Lara begins.
At the mention of Ted, Jill’s face falls. ‘Not good.’ She leans forward and lowers her voice a little. ‘He’s really struggling with what happened. He’s not sleeping well. He keeps thinking about it, dreaming about it.’
Lara tuts sympathetically, feels her face mirror her friend’s concern.
‘I’ve suggested that he talk to someone,’ Jill says, ‘but you know Ted, he’s a very private person. Stiff upper lip and all that.’
‘Then you will have to be his rock,’ Lara says, taking a gulpof her prosecco. ‘He’ll get over it in time, as long as he has you.’ She puts her glass down. ‘And how areyoumanaging?’
Jill smiles ruefully and turns thoughtful. ‘I don’t know. It still doesn’t seem real. We could have died. Ted has lost his brother– he has no family left.’ She pauses. ‘But it’s made me realize how important it is to live every day to the fullest, because you just never know, do you, when your number is up. I mean, either one of us could be hit by a car on our way home today or get diagnosed with something horrible next week.’
‘Now you’re making me depressed,’ Lara says.
‘Sorry!’ Jill gives a little laugh. ‘It was just kind of a wake-up call, you know? Things can change so quickly.’
‘I don’t know about Ted, but you have always been resilient,’ Lara says. ‘You’re one of the strongest people I know. I’ve always admired you for that. You’ll get through this.’
Jill looks back at her over the rim of her glass. ‘Thanks. We’d better order,’ she says.
They both choose the lobster salad. As the waiter retreats with the menus, Lara asks, ‘What happens next? Will there be an inquest?’