“First of all, thank you for your thank-you note. I was glad you could come to my dinner party.”
“I was glad, too. We all had a good time.”
“Are you free for dinner this evening?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Come for a drink at my house at seven, and we’ll go on from there. Dress casually.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“Oh, I almost forgot my original reason for calling: Paul Brandon’s wife, Muffy, was murdered early this morning.”
Stone didn’t speak for a moment.
“Hello?”
“I’m here. Where did this happen?”
“At her home. You were there earlier, I believe.”
“Yes, I was. Where was Paul Brandon at the time?”
“Attending a conference on government and business in Chicago, at the request of the president.”
“I see. How did you hear?”
“A Lieutenant Padgett from the DCPD called me at home five minutes ago. He said the murder bore striking similarities to that of Milly Hart.”
“When did it happen?”
“Between five and six this morning.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Stone said.
“See you at seven.”
“Yes.” Stone hung up and went back to the table.
“You look kind of funny,” Dino said.
“W
ell, I don’t feel very funny,” Stone said. “That was Fair Sutherlin, from the White House. The D.C. cops called her a few minutes ago and told her that Muffy Brandon was murdered early this morning.”
“Where was Paul Brandon?” Dino asked.
“In Chicago, sent by the president to attend a meeting.”
“Too bad,” Dino said. “If he hadn’t had an alibi, we might have cleared two murders in one fell swoop.”
“Fair said the cops said the two murders resembled each other.”
“Well,” Dino said, “if you’re a murderer, and you’ve got a technique that’s working, why change it?”
Holly burst out laughing. “You sound like you’re talking about somebody’s golf swing.”
“Golf swing, ball-peen hammer swing, what’s the difference? It’s all muscle memory.”