THE HOUSE WAS BIGGER THAN WHAT STONE HAD COME TO expect in Georgetown. It was surrounded by lawn and gardens, and set back from the street, with a circular driveway.
“Maybe we should have called first,” Dino said.
“I’d rather surprise her,” Stone replied.
Dino pulled into the driveway, and they got out of the SUV and rang the bell. A uniformed maid answered the door.
“May I help you?” she asked, regarding them as if they were Bible salesmen.
“Mr. Barrington and Lieutenant Bacchetti to see Mrs. Trask, at the request of the president of the United States. ” Sesmen.”
The woman blinked. “Please come in. I’ll see if Mrs. Trask is at home.” She showed them to chairs in a round foyer and disappeared through a door.
“At home?” Dino asked. “Doesn’t she know if her boss is at home?”
“‘At home’ means receiving visitors who don’t have an appointment.”
“Thank you for translating,” Dino replied. “I think I’m going to let you handle this one. She’s not used to people like me.”
“Cops?”
“Italians.”
The maid reappeared. “Mrs. Trask will see you. This way, please.” She led them into a large room
full of chintz-covered furniture and Audubon prints of birds. A handsome woman in her fifties sat alone on a sofa, looking nervous.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Trask,” Stone said. “I am Stone Barrington, and this is Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti. The president asked us to visit with you.”
“Please sit down,” she replied, waving a hand vaguely.
Stone and Dino chose chairs.
“Mrs. Trask,” Stone said, “I know that you’ve heard of our presence in town and why we’re here.”
“How would you know that?” she asked.
“It’s Washington,” Stone said.
“Well, yes.”
“I’m aware of your conversation with your husband at Maison Blanche last evening.”
“Good God! Is the place bugged?”
“I was sitting at the banquette immediately behind yours, about two feet away.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“I was having dinner. It was impossible not to hear what you were saying.”
“A gentleman would not have heard it,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height.
“Be that as it may,” Stone said, “I am aware that a friend of yours was having an affair with Brixton Kendrick.” He took his notebook from an inside pocket and got out his pen. “The president would like you to give us her name and address.”
“Good God, you can’t go bursting into Muffy Brandon’s house and demanding to know about her secret life!”
Stone wrote down the name. “Mrs. Trask, we are not the SWAT team. We are investigating a murder and a suicide at the request of the president of the United States, and we will exercise the utmost discretion. What is Mrs. Brandon’s address?”