Blow Out
Page 52
“He had the phone in his hand. He hung it up pretty fast when he looked at me and saw my urgency. ‘What?’ he asked, and I said in my usual shorthand to him, ‘Friday meeting, conference room,’ and he shook his head like who cared? He sat there, tapping his pen on the leather top of his beautiful desk, and he was frowning, looking off somewhere. Then he shook his head again, as if he still couldn’t decide on something, and got up. He didn’t say another word, just gave this big sigh, and walked off to that meeting.
“I didn’t see him until I was eating a sandwich at my desk at a little after noon. Danny and Fleurette went out to a café down the street, anything to get out of the pressure cooker for a while, they said, and Stewart walked in, nodded, and went right back into his office. He shut the door this time, all the way.”
Savich said, “Why didn’t you tell us this morning, Eliza?”
“I didn’t think it was odd or out of character, just business as usual. When he was really thinking about something, he’d stay in his office by himself. When he wanted to discuss a topic, or he was ready for a good argument about it, he’d call me in.
“Sometimes we liked to leave the building to talk. Walk up into the residential neighborhood behind us. Check out the construction, just to be outside. It helped him to focus his mind.”
“But on Friday, it’s still lunchtime. What did he eat?”
“I brought him a pita sandwich, roast lamb, his favorite.”
“He ate alone? In his office?”
She nodded.
“He didn’t ask you to join him?”
She shook her head.
“Was this unusual?”
“No, not really.”
“Where’s Danny?”
“Danny got back about a quarter of one and Fleurette a little after one. Danny fritzed around a bit, not really doing anything useful that I could see, then he said he had to ask Justice Califano something. I was busy so I didn’t ask him what it was, specifically, just tossed off something like, ‘It better be important. He’s got his brain wrapped around something.’ ”
“And what did Danny say to that?”
“He said, ‘Oh, he’ll make time for this, Eliza, he’ll give me a few minutes.’ Oh God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it seemed like business as usual, but now it looks so different. What did he mean by that? Danny already knew something, didn’t he?”
Sherlock said, “Probably. You’re doing great. Okay, Danny knocks on the door?”
“Yes.”
“Did Justice Califano say anything you could hear?”
“Something like, ‘Yes, Danny? Come on in, but not for long, I’m really busy.’ Something like that.”
“How long was Danny with Justice Califano?”
“I’m not sure, not long, maybe ten minutes. But I’m not sure. I got a call from a lawyer about procedure, then another call from the Solicitor General’s office, more procedural questions. People were in and out, a good half-dozen.
“When Danny came out, he was quiet,” Eliza continued. “He sat down at his desk, and he was quiet. I told you he wasn’t stand-offish, maybe a little reserved with people he didn’t know well, but with Fleurette and me, he’d usually yak up a storm. But Danny sat there, not saying a word. I remember that I started to ask him about a cert. Justice Califano was concerned about. Oh, that’s a formal request that the Supremes hear a case. I can see Danny sitting there, and now I can see something was on his mind. Then I got busy again, and ended up not saying anything. The rest of the day passed like all Fridays do. Everyone talked about their weekend plans. I think there was some sort of children’s book festival going on over at Dupont Circle.”
“Danny interested in books?”
“Yes. He said he was going to go see the storytellers with his girlfriend.”
“Did he mention that he and his girlfriend were going to the movies Friday night?”
“I don’t remember. I just don’t.”
Sherlock said, “When was the party Mrs. Califano was planning?”
“Not until next weekend. Poor Margaret.”
“She’ll be all right. She’s got lots of friends with her, and her daughter.”
“Yes, the famous five friends. I always thought that was wonderful—five women staying together all those years, sharing their lives, always there for each other.”
Sherlock said, “Was Justice Califano carrying anything around with him on Friday—papers, anything like that?”
“I didn’t see him until I was eating a sandwich at my desk at a little after noon. Danny and Fleurette went out to a café down the street, anything to get out of the pressure cooker for a while, they said, and Stewart walked in, nodded, and went right back into his office. He shut the door this time, all the way.”
Savich said, “Why didn’t you tell us this morning, Eliza?”
“I didn’t think it was odd or out of character, just business as usual. When he was really thinking about something, he’d stay in his office by himself. When he wanted to discuss a topic, or he was ready for a good argument about it, he’d call me in.
“Sometimes we liked to leave the building to talk. Walk up into the residential neighborhood behind us. Check out the construction, just to be outside. It helped him to focus his mind.”
“But on Friday, it’s still lunchtime. What did he eat?”
“I brought him a pita sandwich, roast lamb, his favorite.”
“He ate alone? In his office?”
She nodded.
“He didn’t ask you to join him?”
She shook her head.
“Was this unusual?”
“No, not really.”
“Where’s Danny?”
“Danny got back about a quarter of one and Fleurette a little after one. Danny fritzed around a bit, not really doing anything useful that I could see, then he said he had to ask Justice Califano something. I was busy so I didn’t ask him what it was, specifically, just tossed off something like, ‘It better be important. He’s got his brain wrapped around something.’ ”
“And what did Danny say to that?”
“He said, ‘Oh, he’ll make time for this, Eliza, he’ll give me a few minutes.’ Oh God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it seemed like business as usual, but now it looks so different. What did he mean by that? Danny already knew something, didn’t he?”
Sherlock said, “Probably. You’re doing great. Okay, Danny knocks on the door?”
“Yes.”
“Did Justice Califano say anything you could hear?”
“Something like, ‘Yes, Danny? Come on in, but not for long, I’m really busy.’ Something like that.”
“How long was Danny with Justice Califano?”
“I’m not sure, not long, maybe ten minutes. But I’m not sure. I got a call from a lawyer about procedure, then another call from the Solicitor General’s office, more procedural questions. People were in and out, a good half-dozen.
“When Danny came out, he was quiet,” Eliza continued. “He sat down at his desk, and he was quiet. I told you he wasn’t stand-offish, maybe a little reserved with people he didn’t know well, but with Fleurette and me, he’d usually yak up a storm. But Danny sat there, not saying a word. I remember that I started to ask him about a cert. Justice Califano was concerned about. Oh, that’s a formal request that the Supremes hear a case. I can see Danny sitting there, and now I can see something was on his mind. Then I got busy again, and ended up not saying anything. The rest of the day passed like all Fridays do. Everyone talked about their weekend plans. I think there was some sort of children’s book festival going on over at Dupont Circle.”
“Danny interested in books?”
“Yes. He said he was going to go see the storytellers with his girlfriend.”
“Did he mention that he and his girlfriend were going to the movies Friday night?”
“I don’t remember. I just don’t.”
Sherlock said, “When was the party Mrs. Califano was planning?”
“Not until next weekend. Poor Margaret.”
“She’ll be all right. She’s got lots of friends with her, and her daughter.”
“Yes, the famous five friends. I always thought that was wonderful—five women staying together all those years, sharing their lives, always there for each other.”
Sherlock said, “Was Justice Califano carrying anything around with him on Friday—papers, anything like that?”
