Sunday, late morning
“TWO EGG-AND-CHEESE SANDWICHES—CHEESE RUNNY, EGGS DRY…and bacon, too, please,” Alice told the waitress behind the counter at the Doodle.
For someone who was barely one hundred pounds and claimed, without much justification, to be five-one on her driver’s license, Nate’s sister had a large, authoritative personality. People who met her after talking to her on the phone were always shocked by how little she was—even shorter than their mother.
“I’m telling you, Al, I’m a suspect. If I wasn’t before last night, I am now. Plus I’m like the only kid with no alibi.” Ben had been at the orthodontist. Chris was getting extra math help from one of the teachers. Oro was in Brooklyn practicing with his church singing group.
“What about Elliot?”
“In his limo with the Lilys.”
He told her about overhearing Elliot and Tut.
“Wait a minute,” Alice said. “Elliot said to Tut, ‘You know what my father’s gonna do.’ What’s that supposed to mean? Was it said like a threat?”
As the waitress placed their plates before them, Nate said, “I didn’t think so, not then.”
“Well, think now! Was that how it sounded?…Like if Tut didn’t get Elliot into Harvard, he was gonna wind up in a block of cement and be the cornerstone of some cheesy Ross hotel…. Have you told the police?”
When he shook his head, she said, “Do it. But look. Don’t worry. The cops can’t seriously believe a doofus like you could kill anyone.”
“Thanks.” He understood the put-down was meant to make him feel better. And it did, sort of. His sister was always so definite about everything, she made you a believer too.
By now the line of Yale kids waiting for counter seats trailed onto the sidewalk, so they scarfed down their breakfasts, Al finishing off the last of his bacon and home fries. Then, patting her tummy, she said, “I’ve got an appetite like King Kong and the metabolism of a hummingbird—I am blessed.”
They played tennis doubles that afternoon. Then Nate walked Alice back to Davenport. He was planning to catch the 4:24 to New York.
At the Davenport gates, Nate blinked, thinking he was seeing things. There was Grant Werner, and for a second Nate thought Grant was waving at him. But then Grant came up and kissed his sister…and it wasn’t any casual “hi, pal” kiss either.
“I was gonna tell you…. But you were caught up in your own stuff,” Al said, although a caught-in-the-act smile gave her away.
Jesus! Grant Werner of all people! His sister had had major hots for the guy in high school. But Nate figured she was all over that. He hoped Grant was as clean as Olivia claimed.
“Hey, man,” Grant said and shook Nate’s hand.
Yeah, Nate thought, trying not to scowl…on Monday right after his Columbia interview, it was definitely Grant he’d seen coming out of the West End. He was sure of that now.
Al reached up to hug him good-bye and whispered, “Remember, Nate. The Eleventh Commandment.”
He nodded—“Thou Shalt Not Blab to Ma”—and took off.