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“Do you think that will be on the test?”
I smiled. I undoubtedly had asked the same question of my grandfather when I was Chrissy’s age. They were probably teaching history the same way they did when I was at Holy Name as a kid. “No, sweetheart, I doubt that’s anything you need to remember.”
That seemed to satisfy my youngest daughter. My two oldest daughters, Juliana and Jane, were also studying, at the other end of the long dining room table. I’d learned over the last few years that my older children were on top of their academics. I had very little to add to most of their lessons. They were far beyond me in math, enrolled in Calculus II. They certainly didn’t care about my opinions on historical questions. But I couldn’t help one kid and then ignore two others at the table.
Chrissy jumped up from the table like a prisoner just released after nine years in Attica. She darted out of the room, leaving me alone with Jane and Juliana. I moved down until I was sitting next to Jane and across from Juliana.
I smiled and said, “What are we working on?”
Jane gave me her famous flat stare and said, “I don’t know whatyou’reworking on, but I’m working on American lit. My essay is about how none of the great writers of the early twentieth century would be published today.”
She added, “And how does that affect classics of the future? Are we, as a society, encouraging the arts? What impact would an artless society have on the future?”
Any dad will tell you hedoesn’t want to look stupid in front of his kids. I feared it was unavoidable in this case. All I could do was mumble, “Okay, you sound like you have a handle on this.”
I wasn’t cracking a joke, but it made both the girls laugh. We sat and chatted for a few minutes. The younger kids were always interested in telling me about their days and their projects. The older kids were more reticent. You had to hit them at just the right time.
Jane told me about some experiments in her biology class that she found really interesting. Juliana told me about the acting class she took at City College in the evenings. Right now, they were breaking down Eugene O’Neill’sLong Day’s Journey into Night.
I loved hearing about my girls’ interests. Then Juliana turned serious and asked me, “Have you heard anything more about the investigation into Suzanne’s murder?” Her voice got weak toward the end of the sentence and I felt like she might start to cry.
I looked into my daughter’s beautiful face and realized I’d been searching everywhere for information when I had a potential source right in the apartment with me. She shared a lot of characteristics with Suzanne Morton. She might help.
I said, “Have either of you ever heard of The Girlfriend Experience?”
Juliana said, “You mean like the TV show?”
“No, I mean from your friends or anyone in real life.”
Even with ten kids, you quickly learn each of their little idiosyncratic mannerisms. In this case, I saw how Juliana’s eyes focused on the table and she folded her hands across her writing pad. Ever since she was a little kid, that was a sign that she was keeping some sort of secret.
After nibbling around the subject for a few minutes, I finally asked Juliana directly. “Juliana, sweetheart, I feel like you know something about this, but you don’t want to talk about it. This is important. It may help us find Suzanne’s killer.”
A tear leaked out of Juliana’s left eye. She lowered her head and nodded silently. After almost a full minute, she said, “I’ve heard of it a couple of times. I know The Girlfriend Experience has something to do with getting paid to pretend to be someone’s date at fancy parties or events. Someone asked Suzanne if that’s how she had so much spending money. Suzanne blew off the question and didn’t answer. But I can put it all together now. Shedidhave a lot of extra cash and was always paying for our meals and rides. It also explains why she was never free to go out on Friday or Saturday nights.”
I nodded and made a few mental notes as my oldest daughter continued to talk.
“Suzanne used to tell me about her friendAllie, whom she worked with. I always thought that was a little odd since Suzanne had no official job.”
The mention of Allie caught my attention. “Do you have any idea where Allie lives?”
“I think it’s somewhere close to NYU. Suzanne once said she was going to get an apartment like Allie’s. She hated living in the dorm.”
My daughter had just told me which address I would look at first when I tried to find Allie Pritz.
Chapter59
I WAS UPearly the next day. Juliana had given me an idea. I snuck out of the house before most of the kids were awake. As I suspected, I found Walter Jackson already in the office.
I said, “You really are an early riser.”
The big man let out a laugh. “C’mon, this is the only time during my day that it’s quiet. No little girls begging me for ice cream. No detectives asking me to find out about old girlfriends or boyfriends. No lieutenant loaning me out to other units. I live for these two hours of undisturbed peace.”
“That I’m about to disturb.”
“That’s why I have to ask you a question about silence.”
“What’s that?”
