Sunday night. Alice Bryant's body still hadn't been found. The wait was becoming unbearable. I spent the day at home, cleaning up Fort Larsen and watching the Broncos squeak past the Cowboys on a last minute field goal, while I forced myself half-heartedly to read the summary judgment brief Maurice and Ann had drafted. All I seemed to be able to think about was Alice Bryant and that image of the rope wrapped around her throat.
Late in the afternoon I took a walk through Cheesman park, tramping through the three inches of snow that had accumulated. I scarcely paid attention to where I was walking; I spent the entire time trying to will my brain to come up with some answers. But nothing useful occurred to me.
There was nothing to do but wait.
Monday morning's Clarion offered more of the usual: a stabbing, an apartment fire, and a domestic dispute that had erupted into a fatal shooting. But nothing about Alice Bryant. At eight-thirty, I was standing outside the door marked, Adam Larsen & Associates, P.C. Through the glass, I could see that Diana was already at her desk. Maurice was sprawled out unceremoniously on one of the maroon couches in the reception area.
Diana pressed the button to let me in. With her customary cheerfulness, she said, "Good morning."
"Good morning," I answered, glancing quizzically from her to Maurice and back again. "Is something up?"
Maurice stood up. He looked like he hadn't slept all weekend. "No. That's the problem."
Diana said, "Maurice seems to believe that some mysterious event should have taken place by now. He refuses to tell me what that might be." She arched her brows in a silent question.
"You don't want to know," I assured her. To Maurice, I said, "It will happen. It's inevitable. It's just a matter of time."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then we'll pour more gasoline on the fire." I turned to Diana. She had an equine nose and a narrow, intelligent face. Her white hair, as always, was perfectly coifed. "Are there any messages?"
"A few. Hal Gross of the Clarion seems quite keen on chatting with you."
"Thanks. I'll call him. But first, Maurice, why don't you join me in my office? Ann, too, if she's around. I've been working on your summary judgment brief. It's pretty good. I'd like to get it finished and filed today."
* * * *
Maurice, Ann and I were still in my office going over the brief, when Diana's voice came over the speaker.
"You rang?" I asked.
"Sergeant Stone is at the door, gesturing that he would like to be let in."
"There's a pleasant surprise," I commented sarcastically. "Is he breathing fire?"
"No more than usual."
"Well, you'd better let him in. Otherwise, he's liable to huff and puff and blow the house down."
Less than a minute later, Joe Stone, his uniform neatly pressed and his black shoes freshly shined, was standing in front of my desk. He never sat down except on rare occasions. That might imply some hint of civility.
"Good morning," I said. He didn't respond, so I asked, "What can I do for you?"
"I'll make this brief and to the point, Larsen." If he noticed Maurice or Ann, he did a good job of concealing it. "I have questions for Mary Bryant. I want to talk to her."
I regarded him for a moment. "You didn't need to come all the way down here for that, Stone. You could have just called me and I would have--"
"Maybe I happened to be in the neighborhood," he said. "Why do you need to be there when I talk to her? She's not in custody and there are no charges pending against her."
"You mentioned something about a criminal past. That concerns me. What do you want to ask her?"
"Things about her sister."
"What things?"
"Things!"
I smiled. He knew full well he couldn't force her to talk to him if she didn't want to. "Could it be that you're reconsidering your presumption of Alice Bryant's guilt, now that Paul Wyndham has come clean about how the theft was discovered?"
"I want to talk to her, Larsen. I can do it with or without your cooperation."
"With. But not unless I'm present. My client thinks you're harassing her."
He leaned forward. "You know what I think? I think she's hiding her sister somewhere. And I think you know where she is! And if you're helping her stay underground, that makes you an accessory after the fact."
I gave Maurice a look that said, See what would have happened if we tried to tell him where to find Alice Bryant? Maurice said nothing but I knew he understood. He just shrugged almost imperceptibly. I turned to my law clerk. As usual, she was chewing on the end of her ball point pen.
"Ann, will you put together a memo on the law relating to accessories after the fact? I wouldn't want to violate any--"
"Oh, cut the crap, Larsen!" Stone said. "I want--"
Ann removed the pen from her mouth and disgustedly asked Stone, "Can't you ever conduct a conversation without resorting to profanity?"
Stone gritted his teeth. With elaborate disdain, he said, "Cut the baloney, Larsen. I want to speak with your darn client." He added, glaring at Ann, "If that wouldn't be too much trouble."
I said, "She's already told you everything she knows, Stone. You and I both know that. But in the spirit of cooperation, I'll permit you to question her one more time. You can ask her anything you want, just so long as I'm present."
His lip curled in distaste. "Spirit of cooperation? You? When have you ever cooperated with me?"
"More times than you realize."
"Bull--!" he began. He remembered that Ann was present and turned it into. "Baloney!"
"Well, how about this for cooperation?" I asked. "Are you aware there was a burglary at Lois Murdock's apartment the same weekend that Alice Bryant disappeared?"
He made a clucking sound with his tongue. "Oh, for crying out loud! There were dozens of burglaries in Denver that weekend, Larsen. And every weekend since then."
"You mean it doesn't strike you as a significant that--"
"Look, why don't you do us both a favor? Leave the police work to the police."
There were half a dozen responses I could have made, all of which would have been wasted on Stone. Instead, I asked, "When do you want to meet with Mary Bryant?"
"Yesterday," he said. "Today is my second choice."
"I'll call her and set it up. It won't be before this afternoon."
"You know where to find me." He wheeled and marched toward the door. As he reached the threshold, he paused. "And God help you if you're hiding her sister."
He vanished down the hall.
When he was gone, the three of us sat in silence, waiting for the air to clear. Stone's presence tended to linger after he left, like Limburger cheese.
Diana's voice came over the speaker on my telephone. "While you were meeting with Sergeant Stone, Paul Wyndham phoned. Twice. He wanted me to interrupt you, but under the circumstances I didn't think I should. He desperately wants to meet with you. He says it's quite urgent."
"Thanks, Diana. I'll call him. And will you remind me to call Hal Gross?"
"Will do."
Maurice was standing over by the picture windows, staring toward the mountains west of town. "So why haven't they--why hasn't it happened yet?"
"Will you get started on that research project?" I asked Ann. "I have a feeling we may need it sooner, rather than later."
In her emotionless monotone she said, "I can take a hint. The boys have some little secret to whisper about."
I grinned at her. "Trust me. You don't want to know."
"You might be surprised," she said enigmatically. She stuck her pen defiantly in her mouth and rose to leave.
When she was gone, I went and closed the door. "Maurice, I know the suspense is driving you nuts, but--"
"You can say that again. I can't stand this!"
"I know. But consider this: if you worked for the Clear Creek sheriff's department, how much credence would you give to an anonymous phone call from someone who sounded like Peter Lorre, telling you to go take a hike into the mountains to look for a dead body?"
"Not very much," he conceded. "So why can't we--"
I shook my head. "They'll get to it when they get to it. If they don't, I promise you, we will take steps to make sure they do."
"I just hope it's soon. This is making me crazy."
"Me, too," I admitted.
As it turned out, we didn't have much longer to wait.