“Any ideas why your parents’ did?” asked Michelle.
“Maybe they’d grown apart. My dad was a borderline socialist. My mom was a Republican. Maybe that was it.”
“Yet that was nothing new, was it?” said King.
“Who knows for sure? They didn’t really talk about it that much. In her youth my mother was apparently some fabulous actress with a wonderful future. She gave up that dream to marry my dad and support his career. Maybe she came to regret that decision. Maybe she thought she’d wasted her life. I don’t really know, and at this point I don’t really care.”
“Well, I guess she was depressed about Arnold’s death. Maybe that’s why she committed suicide.”
“Well, if that was the reason, she waited years to get around to doing it.”
“So you think it was something else?” asked King.
“I really haven’t given it much thought, okay!”
“I don’t believe that. I’m betting you think about it all the time, Kate.”
One of her hands flew to her eyes. “The interview is over. Get out!”
As they walked down Franklin Street to Michelle’s truck, King said, “She knows something.”
“Yes, she does,” agreed Michelle. “The question is, how do we get it out of her?”
“She’s pretty mature for her age. But she’s also got a lot wrapped up in that head of hers.”
“I wonder how close Thornton Jorst and Kate are? He gave her the heads-up about us pretty fast.”
“I was wondering that myself. I’m not thinking a romantic relationship.”
“More like a surrogate father?” she suggested.
“Maybe. And dads will do a lot to protect their daughters.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Michelle.
“We’ve clearly shaken up Kate Ramsey. Let’s see where she might lead us.”
CHAPTER
48
JOAN LEARNED some interesting things about John Bruno from the support staff at his Philadelphia law firm. None of them had much good to say about Catherine Bruno.
“Nose stuck so far up in the air it’s a wonder she doesn’t drown when it rains,” said one secretary about the blue-blooded Mrs. Bruno.
Joan cornered another woman at the law firm who’d also worked with Bruno during his stint as a prosecutor in Washington. The woman remembered Bill and Mildred Martin and had read of their deaths.
“An unlikely person to be murdered,” said the woman with a frightened expression. “Bill was so sweet and trusting.”
Joan pounced on this. “Trusting, yes, he was trusting. Even when he shouldn’t have been perhaps.”
“Well, I don’t like telling tales outside of school.”
“We’re both grown; we can tell tales wherever and whenever we want,” Joan prompted. “Especially if it helps in the cause of justice and other things.”
The woman remained silent.
“So you actually worked for both Bill Martin and Bruno at the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Washington?”