When I Last Saw You - Bette Lee Crosby Page 0,10

even if he hung up on her again. It seemed unlikely that would happen, but if it did she’d drive over to his house, bring homemade cookies as a peace offering, and refuse to leave until he agreed to talk to her.

When the pale glimmer of a new day rose above the treetops, she showered and dressed. It was still too early to call so she sat at the table, downed a second cup of coffee, and after that a third. She’d originally thought 10 am would be an appropriate time, but by 9:30 she could wait no longer.

He answered on the second ring, and she recognized his voice.

“Mr. Bateman, I apologize for calling so late last night. I needed to speak with you about an urgent matter and didn’t realize the hour. My husband died three weeks ago, and you did some work for him back in forty-four—”

“I’m sorry about your husband, but as I told you I’m retired. I closed the business five years ago. You’re gonna have to find yourself another detective.”

“No one else will be able to help me. I’m looking for information about a case you worked on.”

“Twenty-four years ago?” He gave a cynical laugh. “I’m sorry, but you’re wasting your time. There are days when I can’t remember what I had for breakfast. I’m sure as hell not going to remember something that far back.”

“But you have files. Perhaps if you checked—”

“Look, I was never really good about record keeping, and whatever files I do have are packed away in the basement.”

“I’ll pay for however long it takes you to go through the boxes. I’d like to know what it was you were investigating for my husband.”

“If he wanted you to know, don’t you think he would’ve told you?”

“You’d think so,” Margaret replied sadly, “but he didn’t. Now I’m trying to straighten out the estate he left behind, and I’d like to know if there’s someone else who should be taken into consideration.”

A lengthy silence followed. “By someone, you mean a kid he might have fathered?”

“That’s something I won’t know unless you’re willing to look through those files.”

“Even if I go through those boxes, there’s no guarantee I’ll find something. I was a one-man shop, and I did a lot of small jobs without taking time for paperwork.”

She sensed that he was starting to waffle. “I’ll pay double the going rate regardless of whether or not you’re successful. And if you tell me you couldn’t find anything, I’ll not bother you again.”

“You’ll pay double?”

“Yes. And I won’t question your results.”

“You realize I could charge you for twenty, thirty hours, not lift a finger, then tell you I didn’t find anything.”

“I know that,” Margaret said. “But I trust you’re not that kind of person. If you were, I don’t think my husband would have done business with you.”

“One of those, huh? If he was such an upstanding and honorable guy, why is it you don’t know what I was working on for him?”

“It was a long time ago, and we were going through a really rough patch. Maybe he thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, I hear you. I didn’t know my wife was cheating on me until she walked out and took the dog with her.”

They talked for a while longer; he told her if he agreed to take the job, she’d have to pay a retainer up front. She assured him that was no problem. After they discussed timing, he agreed to do it.

“Call me the minute you have something,” she said.

“You mean the minute I know whether or not I have something,” he replied.

“Yes, either way.”

Margaret hung up the telephone and began waiting.

The Discovery

AFTER TELEPHONING TO SAY HE’D received Margaret’s retainer check, two weeks went by with no further word from Tom Bateman. Jeffrey called twice; once to ask if she wanted to receive a copy of the minutes for the partners’ weekly meetings and the second time to ask if she’d given any more thought to his buyout of her shares in McCutcheon & Schoenfeld. Both times she answered no.

There were a number of other calls: the dry cleaner reminding her that Albert’s suit had yet to be picked up, a secretary for the library’s fundraising campaign asking if she could chair this year’s gala, and Josie asking how she was doing.

“I’ve been worried about you not eating. Since the Portlands moved, I’ve got Tuesdays and Thursdays free. If I won’t be a bother, I’ll stop by and fix you a bite

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