Free Murder on the Potomac by Margaret Truman

moment. I would like to get together with you again. I promise not to unduly intrude. Is that all right with you?”
    “Why, yes—I suppose so.”
    She stood, straightened her skirt, which had developed wrinkles across her thighs, and bent to pick up her briefcase from the floor. “I wish all my interviews were this pleasant.”
    “Nothing pleasant about an interview when it involves murder,” he said.
    “Well, as you know from all your years of criminal law, Mac, you find pleasantness where you can. You and your wife have been extremely cooperative this morning. I hesitate …”
    His expression invited her to continue.
    “I’d like to spend more time with you, pick your brain a little—a lot.”
    “Fine.”
    “Don’t be so quick to agree. I’m known in the department for my ability to reach pest status once I get started.”
    “I’ll let you know when you get there. Become a pest.”
    “Fair enough. There are elements of this case that I really can’t go into at the moment, but that I’d like to discuss with you in a less formal setting.”
    Smith looked left and right. “You call this formal? My kitchen?”
    She laughed. “You know what I mean. I need—and I won’t be coy about it, I need—I’d appreciate being able to run things by you. Not necessarily specifics of the case but … more your general thinking about it. Maybe about murder in general.”
    “You should consider joining Scarlet Sin,” he said pleasantly.
    “That’s always a possibility.…”
    “Or taking another of my classes. That’s what I’m paid for at GW.”
    “Maybe we could consider lunch a seminar of sorts. An extension course. Could we?”
    “Well, maybe.”
    “I’ll call. Where’s your wife? I’d like to say good-bye.”
    “I’ll find her,” he said.
    “Not necessary. Just thank her for me. She’s a very nice woman.”
    “I’ll pass along the compliment.”
    As he opened the front door for her, she said, “Please ask Mrs. Smith whether she overheard that conversation at the board meeting between Mr. Tierney and Ms. Juris about Seymour Fletcher. It had to do with budgets, I believe.”
    “I will.”
    He watched her descend the few brick steps in front of the house, turn left, and stride confidently up the street until out of sight. When he turned, he faced Annabel. “You snuck up on me,” he said with a smile.
    “You know I wouldn’t do that. How did it go?”
    “I think Wendell might be in for a long, tough run. He’s made a lot of enemies over the years, people who wouldn’t mind taking him down. By the way, why didn’t you tell her about a conversation between Wendell and Pauline at the end of the board meeting?”
    “Conversation?”
    “Something to do with budgets.”
    “Oh, right. I did hear them talking. He wanted her to confront someone about money. I never gave it a thought—until now. Sort of like Leona Helmsley.”
    “Who’s like Leona Helmsley?”
    “Wendell. She crossed a lot of people, made a lot of enemies. Just as he has. That’s why she ended up in jail.”
    “She’s a convicted felon.”
    “People didn’t like her. Nice doctors get sued less than nasty ones. Did she get what she wanted from you?”
    “Leona?” He laughed. “Oh, Detective Eikenberg. Probably not. I don’t have anything to give her.”
    “Hmmmm.”
    “Are you upset about something?”
    “You asked me that yesterday. I told you I was upset about Pauline’s murder.”
    “And I also asked if you were upset with me. I’ll ask that again, too.”
    “No.” She smiled and said, “She’s an impressive woman. Hardly the stereotypical cop.”
    “I suppose so. I’m sure you’re glad this morning is over with.”
    “I certainly hope it is, Professor Smith.”

12
    The Next Day
    When Mac Smith walked into the faculty cafeteria the following morning, he found Monty Jamison hidden behind the morning newspaper. The history professor suddenly realized Smith stood over him, glanced up, grunted a