to his lentil soup. He wasn’t paying attention and bit into a pepper. Two glasses of water later, Sherlock still laughing, he decided he would survive. He chewed on a piece of warm naan to soothe his throat and told her about Chief of Staff Arlan Burger’s calling Mr. Maitland.
Sherlock listened closely as she dipped her own naan into the rich, thick soup and chewed slowly. She said at last, “Imagine, this medium, Zoltan, is from Willicott. You want me to give Ty a call, have her find out about her and her family? Get a feel for this woman before we go see her?”
“Good idea. Yes, check her out. MAX can give us the facts of her life, but not what she was all about growing up, what people thought of her and her family.”
She smiled at him. “So much has happened today, so many threads to follow, not even counting the red box and the puzzle. What I can’t understand is why Rebekah Manvers isn’t telling you everything, whether she thinks it’s important or not. That’s got to mean she’s hiding something.”
She sat back in her chair and patted her stomach. “But you’re not going to interview Rebekah Manvers again and try to convince her to talk to you, are you? You’re going to visit that medium, Zoltan, first. I can’t see a way she’s not involved, Dillon.”
He put his soup spoon down and smiled at her. Sherlock laughed. “At the very least, this Zoltan is bound to be entertaining.”
He spotted another hot pepper and gently spooned it onto the bread plate. “I haven’t done a deep run on Rebekah or Congressman Manvers, either. Do you know anything about her?”
“I know she’s much younger than her husband, late twenties to his mid-fifties. No kids together, but they haven’t been married long. I believe I heard he has two sons by his first wife, both older than his new wife.” She paused a moment, studied his face. “Makes you wonder if maybe there’s bad blood between the sons and their new stepmama.”
“That’s possible. Do you have any doubts Zoltan is a fake?”
“Now, there’s a strange question for a man with your gifts to ask.” She sat forward, took his hand. “All I’ve ever been certain of is there are things I don’t understand, that no one is able to understand, not really. If Zoltan is a charlatan, you’ll expose her. Can the chief of staff count on you figuring it all out by close of business today?”
Such faith she had in him. He managed to avoid another pepper. “We’ll see. At this point nothing would surprise me.”
“You’re planning to see Zoltan tonight?”
“You want to come with me? I’ll bet my sister and Simon would love to babysit Sean.”
Sherlock shook her head. “I’d be a third thumb.” She leaned across the table, took his hand, and squeezed it. “Listen to me, Dillon. You be careful. We have no idea what to expect.”
Back in his office, Savich called Zoltan’s private number and spoke to her secretary, Candy. Was that a punch of nerves in her voice when he identified himself? What did Candy know about any of this? She told him Zoltan’s last client would be gone by eight o’clock that evening.
9
HOME OF ZOLTAN
THURSDAY EVENING
Savich drove his Porsche to Cleveland Park, an old, established neighborhood in northwest Washington both he and Sherlock enjoyed driving through, especially when the fall leaves were at their most dramatic. There were beautifully kept older houses surrounded by mature oaks and maples, and it was quiet, not a single kid’s bike to be seen in the neighborhood. Zoltan lived in a hundred-year-old house with a wraparound porch, surrounded by a well-maintained yard. There was a porch light on, and both downstairs and upstairs lights were on. Savich could see the pale brown paint and sharp white trim were fresh. Fall flowers still bloomed from baskets hanging from overhead porch beams, and piles of fallen leaves had been swept up. He paused a moment in front of the dark-brown-painted front door. The neighborhood, the house, even the planted fall flowers seemed so normal, so expected. Who would guess a medium was holding séances in her living room? Why, he wondered again, hadn’t Rebekah wanted to talk about what happened here last night?
He fully intended to find out.
He pressed a button by the front door and heard chimes sounding a lovely deep Gregorian chant. He heard light footsteps, and Zoltan herself answered the front door. She’d looked formal