“‘The Doggie,’” she said, “because that was her preferred position.”
“And when, in the chain of events, was he seeing her?”
“Only for the last month or so of his life, I think. She lived in Georgetown, and he would run over there, screw her, and be back in half an hour. He said he would walk into her house, and she’d be waiting for him, already naked. He’d just drop his pants and stick it in. Ten minutes later, he was on his way back to the office.”
“You make it sound as though Brix was not a considerate lover,” Stone said.
“Oh, I don’t mean to make it sound that way,” Kirby said. “He took pride in giving them what they wanted, the way they wanted it. He was very . . . proficient. If he was seeing Milly Hart, he’d be gone for a couple of hours. She liked everything.”
“Ms. Kirby,” Dino said, “would you describe Brix Kendrick as a sex addict?”
She laughed at that. “What else? He practically turned me into an addict, too, except I was addicted only to him.”
“Did you like him?” Stone asked.
“I loved him, and I loved working for him, too. He was a good boss, and he got a tr
emendous amount of work done every week, in spite of his extracurricular activities. I made a lot of that possible, of course, but he always gave me a list of things to accomplish before he went out.”
“Ms. Kirby,” Stone said, “this is important. Early in the afternoon of the day he died, he had sex with a woman in the family quarters—in the Lincoln Bedroom, in fact. Who was she?”
“Yes, he came back, went to work, and then, a little after five, he changed and went to play tennis on the White House court.”
“Who was she?” Stone asked again.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but he called her ‘the March Hare.’”
38
STONE AND DINO WERE QUIET ON THE DRIVE BACK TO THE Hay-Adams. When they were back in the suite Stone called Holly.
“Hello?”
“We’ve just left the White House, where we conducted a very important interview. I don’t want to talk about it on the phone, so can you come over for a drink or dinner?”
“I can come over for a drink and dinner,” she replied. “Seven o’clock?”
“Good. See you then.”
Dino picked up the phone. “I think it will save time if I ask Shelley over, too.”
“We may as well have all the principals here,” Stone said.
Dino looked at Stone closely. “You seem a little down, pal. I would have thought you’d feel great about our interview.”
“You’re right, Dino, I should feel that way, but I’m sort of depressed about the direction this is taking.”
“What, too many suspects?”
“Right, and nobody knows who they are, except Brix, and he took the shortcut out of here.”
“Well, we know three of them,” Dino said, “but two of them are dead. All we’ve got is Charnlotte Kirby and the March Hare. That’s from Alice in Wonderland, isn’t it?”
Stone nodded. “The Tea Party. It’s where the expression ‘mad as a March hare’ comes from.”
“Well, Brix seemed to give a meaning to each of his nicknames: the Rabbit, the Doggie, et cetera. So maybe the March Hare is a nut job.”
Stone nodded. “She’d almost have to be,” he said. “I mean, jealousy is one thing, but to kill Brix’s wife, then two of his lovers, well . . .”