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“What? I’m not—”
“He got a massage early that afternoon. He showered in the spa, but he didn’t dress. I asked the masseur. He came in wearing a robe, and he left wearing it. There should have been a used robe and slippers in his room. They weren’t among the evidence collected. So what happened to them?”
“Good question,” she said slowly.
“Here’s an even better one. Did you know that Smilow gets routine manicures in the spa? Get it? No one would think twice about seeing him wearing one of those robes. I’m going to check the suite again, see if we’ve missed anything. Just wanted to keep you posted. By the way, have you seen him today?”
“Smilow?” She hesitated, then said, “No.”
“If you do, keep him busy so I’m free to operate.”
“Sure. Let me know what turns up.”
“You’ll be the first.”
* * *
“Thanks for meeting me, Hammond.”
He slid into the booth opposite Davee. “What’s up? You said urgent.”
“Would you like some lunch?”
“No, thanks, I can’t. Busy day. I’ll have a club soda,” he told the waiter, who withdrew to fill his order. He fanned smoke away from his face. “When did you start smoking again?”
“An hour ago.”
“What’s going on, Davee? You seem upset.”
She took a sip of her drink, which Hammond guessed correctly wasn’t her first, and it wasn’t club soda. He had responded to her page, surprised when
she asked him to meet her at a restaurant downtown. He was headed that way anyway, which, given his tight schedule, was the only reason he had agreed to the spontaneous invitation.
“Rory called me last night. We had a rendezvous. Not of the romantic sort,” she clarified.
“Then what sort?”
“He asked me all kinds of questions about you and Lute’s murder investigation.” She waited until the waiter delivered his club soda before continuing. “He knows that you met with Lute last Saturday, Hammond. But I didn’t tell him. I swear I didn’t.”
“I believe you.”
“He said you were seen in the hotel. He’s guessing about your appointment with Lute, but as we know, he’s a damn good guesser.”
“It’s a harmless guess.”
“Maybe not, because there’s something else you should know.” Her hand was shaking as she lifted the cigarette to her lips. Hammond took it from her and ground it out in the ashtray.
“Go ahead.”
“I know about you and Alex Ladd.”
He considered playing dumb but realized that Davee of all people would see through the act. “How?”
He listened as she told him about Alex’s visit to her house that morning. “I don’t know the details of how you met, or when, or where. I didn’t ask for any insider information, and she didn’t volunteer any. And by the way, she’s lovely.”
“Yes,” he said thickly. “She is.”
“As I’m sure you’re aware,” she continued, “this love affair is ill-timed and most inappropriate.”
