"What would it have been worth to the company?"
"Quarter million bucks. Half a million maybe. More, of course, in the long run, if we bid on future work."
"What was the status of the bid when Hugh died?"
"I don't know. I guess we were gearing up. I know he'd gone down to the Federal Building in Los Angeles to pick up all the paperwork. Since it was the Department of
Defense, we were going to need a company clearance, plus individual clearances. Hugh's death really didn't have much effect, but when Woody died on top of that, we lost heart."
"Could the company have handled the work with both men gone?"
"Probably, but of course Lance was just taking over, getting his feet wet. I guess we dropped the ball, but that's all it amounted to. We weren't out anything. We might not have been low bidder anyway, so it's all speculative."
"What about bids since?"
"That's an aspect of the business we haven't paid much attention to. We're on overload half the time as it is."
I looked at him, truly stumped. "And you don't think it's relevant?"
"If it is, I don't see how."
"Thanks for your time, at any rate. I may need to get back to you."
"Sure thing," he said.
Ava and I chatted a while longer, but the conversation seemed unproductive, except for one minor point. She mentioned, in passing, that Ebony had attended the me-morial services for Hugh Case.
"I thought she was in Europe, married to some play-boy named Julian."
"She was, but they came back to the States to visit every six months or so."
"How long had she been in town? Do you have any idea?"
Her look was blank. "Can't help you there. I was too new myself to sort out what was normal in that family."
"Maybe I can check it out," I said. "Thanks for your help."
Driving back into town, I was kicking myself. I'd falsely assumed that neither Ebony nor Bass could have been tied in to Hugh's death as both of them were out of the picture at the time-Ebony in Europe, Bass in New York. Now I wasn't sure. I stopped at a public phone booth and called the Woods' house. The maid answered. I was willing to talk to just about any member of the family, but that turned out to be problematic. Mrs. Wood was resting and had asked not to be disturbed. Ebony and Ashley had gone to the Santa Teresa Monument Company to look at memorial tablets for Miss Olive's gravesite. Bass was due back at any minute. Did I care to leave my name and number? I decided to hold off on that. I said I'd call again later and hung up without identifying myself. I hauled more change from my handbag and tried Darcy at the office. She had nothing new to report. I brought her up-to-date and we commiserated briefly on the blanks we were drawing. She said she'd leave word on my answering ma-chine if anything developed. Fat chance, I thought.
I returned to my car and sat there at the curb. I poured the rest of the hot coffee into the thermos lid, sipping it with care. I was getting closer to the truth. I could feel it in my bones. I felt like I was circling, the orbits getting tighter as I approached the central point. Some-times all it took was one tiny nudge and everything fell into place. But the balance was delicate, and if I pushed too hard, I might barge right past the obvious.
I didn't have that many trees to shake. I screwed the lid on the thermos and tossed it in the back seat. I started up the car and drove back into town again. Maybe Andy 's mistress had heard from him. That might help. Fifteen minutes later, I was standing at her door, knocking po-litely. I wasn't sure if she worked or not. She was home, but when she opened the door, she didn't seem that thrilled to see me.
"Hi," said I. "I'm still looking for Andy and I wondered if you'd heard from him."
She shook her head. Some people think they can lie to me that way, without forming the actual falsehood with their lips. It's apparently part of an inner conviction that if they don't speak the lie aloud, they won't burn in hell.
"He never checked in to let you know he was okay?"
"I just said that, didn't I?"
"Seems odd to me," I remarked. "I half expected him to drop you a note, or make a quick phone call."
"Sorry," she said.
There was a tiny silence wherein she was hoping to close the door and be done with me.
"How'd he get that account anyway?" I asked.
"What account?"
"Wood/Warren. Did he know Lance pretty well or was it someone else in the family?"