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Payne nodded.
He said, “Did he say if he had any idea who would do this? Would you have any idea?”
Camilla Rose met and held Payne’s eyes as she nodded thoughtfully.
“At first, I thought it might be a robbery. Johnny had an envelope containing fifty thousand dollars.”
“Fifty grand in cash?” Harris said.
“Yes, cash. In hundred-dollar bills.”
“Why?” Payne said.
“Certain vendors are due today an advance for the gala. They prefer cash, and offer a significant discount on their services for it.”
Payne and Harris exchanged glances.
“Who, for example?” Payne said.
“It’s not what I suspect you are thinking,” Camilla Rose said. “I run an aboveboard program. Besides, no one knew that he had the cash. I’d just given it to him. Johnny was in such a hurry, I had to stop them before they almost drove off without it.”
“Where is the money now?” Payne said.
“The vendors still need their advances. I had my assistant come get the envelope. Johnny had stuck it in his sweater right before . . . before what happened . . . And when the EMTs came, Johnny told them to give it to me.”
Payne thought, In his sweater? Maybe that’s why he was not wearing a seat belt.
“So, aside from the cash,” Payne said, “any other ideas? Because I really do not believe robbery was the motive. I saw the whole thing go down.”
“I asked Johnny the same thing: if he had any ideas. Maybe someone had made any threats against him. Or against Ken?”
“And?” Payne said.
Camilla Rose hesitated, then said, “And all he said was, ‘You know.’ He repeated it.”
“What did he mean by that?”
She glanced around the room.
“May I buy you a cup of coffee?” she said. “Or maybe something a bit stronger?” She absently wiped at a large patch of dried blood on her sleeve. “After I get changed?”
Harris held up the file folder.
“Matt, I need to drop this off in the case file,” he said. “I’ll get going on what we discussed, then head over to the scene and see how McCrory is doing.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
“Ms. Morgan,” Harris said, “thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome, Detective. A pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”
As Harris headed toward the glass doors of the ER entrance, Payne nodded in that direction.
“My car is right out there, too. Take you back to The Rittenhouse? How does going to the Library sound?”
She made a small smile. She knew the inside line about the small Library Bar. Simply saying one was “going to the Library” came across as completely innocuous.
“Excellent. The Library it is.”
