“The timing was…You and I were texting the night before. It’s possible she woke up and checked my phone. There was something about her tone. She was trying to hide it, but I could tell she was angry. Really angry.”
There have been a few messages we’ve exchanged that would make any wife unhappy. Not blatantly sexual. Of course not. But flirtatious, for sure—too many emojis and winking faces. It didn’t feel all that wrong at the time. Not like it does sitting here now in the very bright light of day.
I feel my skin prickle. “I’m sorry…This is…I have to go. I just…We can’t do this.”
“We’re not doing anything, Frankie.”
“Yes, we are,” I say as I start to walk away. “Were. But not anymore.”
Richard Falk Police Interview
3:58 a.m., September 12
Q.You okay to continue?
A.Yes, thank you.
Q.You seem very upset about what’s happened to Ms. Callahan.
A.Of course I’m upset. She was my friend and she was murdered.
Q.And you cared about her?
A.I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, or if you’re implying anything, but—of course I cared about Frankie Callahan. As I said, we were friends. Friends who went through something traumatic together. To think that something has also now happened to her—yes, it’s very upsetting.
Q.Are you okay to continue?
A.Can you tell me why you came to our apartment? Why you’re going through our things? I really don’t understand.
Q.Maybe you can tell me first where you were at 11:00 p.m. on the night of September 10th?
A.I was working late. I often do. Then I went for a drink. A client was supposed to meet me, but he canceled, so I went alone. Then I went back to the office to finish up a few things.
Q.What time was that?
A.I don’t know—10:00 p.m., maybe?
Q.And then you went home?
A.Then I fell asleep on the couch in my office. After I woke up, I went home.
Q.And what time was that?
A.I think around 2:00 a.m. I’m not exactly sure. I think I got home at around 2:45 a.m.
Q.Would it surprise you to hear that we have an eyewitness who puts you leaving Frankie Callahan’s apartment at around 2:30 a.m.—shortly after the time of her death?
A.That would surprise me, yes. It’s simply not true.
After
Gretchen
September 12
Ophelia waswonderfulin the welcome assembly. She hadn’t had long to prepare, but she was an absolutely spectacular butterfly. At least Gretchen thought that was what she was supposed to be. It was a little hard to tell, and also not easy to focus. But Gretchen was there, and she had made it on time. She had even managed not to tell Cassandra that she thought that Ophelia was the best. Cassandra called that “comparative valuation,” and apparently it was very bad. Valuation of any kind was verboten, no matter how hard a child worked.
Gretchen had been able to get herself pretty well pulled together by the time she’d left the house—full face of makeup, unwrinkled dress, and her nerves settled some by a cup of chamomile tea. And she had done a very good job of staying calm and behaving normally ever since she had walked through the doors of the Sloan School’s auditorium. It was true that shehadalmost told Cassandra everything the second she saw her. Her elder daughter was brilliant, charming, and exceedingly capable, skills that made her an excellent investment adviser, just like Richard. Actually, Cassandra was like Richard in almost every way, which probably accounted for Gretchen’s spasm of need when she saw her.
