Read Online Kaleidoscope by Dorothy Gilman - Free Book Online

Everett Harbinger at Benson and Harbinger, and alerted Swope, who would meet him there. Pruden preferred to walk, and on his way to Sixty-ninth Street he found himself increasingly curious about this Joanna Warren Epworth. In his early days on the force, when on patrol duty and assigned to crowd control, he’d frequently seen John Epworth, and he’d liked the look of him. He’d been told that since the accident that claimed the life of his wife and child years ago, he’d given himself entirely to business and civic matters, but, as Pruden saw it, a man like that might keep hoping to find a woman to match the wife he’d lost so tragically. As the years passed and he realized the impossibleness of this, and feeling his mortality, he could easily be drawn to someone twenty years younger who flattered him, made him feel younger, and revived the nurturing qualities that he’d buried. He wondered if this second Mrs. Epworth would be what he called the second-marriage sort: flawlessly attractive—his wealth would assure that—and the type who would, as Abby Jacobs had suggested, look good at board meetings, and efficiently build a social life for him. Now Pruden would finally meet her, this woman who might just have efficiently arranged what she would believe the perfect crime.
    Swope was silent when they met; he didn’t like this any more than Pruden. They rang the bell, and a maid in uniform escorted them into a living room full of antiques. They gingerly chose two elegant chairs and sat, waiting.
    Mrs. Epworth entered the room wearing black silk slacks and a black silk shirt, her face very pale, and Pruden noted with professional interest that she wore no makeup, and wondered if she’d sacrificed vanity to emphasize her mourning. She chose a very straight chair and smiled wanly. “I believe you want more . . . details?”
    Pruden said, “We’ve taken the liberty of asking your lawyer to join us. He should be here at any moment.”
    He had startled her. “Whatever for?” she said lightly. “Surely not some Victorian idea that I’d need
protection
.”
    Lying through his teeth, Pruden said, “It’s regulations, our policy at headquarters, Mrs. Epworth, that in every criminal case a lawyer must be present to protect the interest of anyone interviewed.”
    But the maid was already ushering in Mr. Harbinger, and rising to greet him she lifted both arms in a dramatic and helpless gesture. “What a waste of your time, Everett,” she told him. “They think I need protection.”
    Harbinger smiled. “Ah, but this also gives me the opportunity to later go over John’s will with you before it’s filed with probate.”
    She brightened. “Oh, how very efficient of you. Do sit down, all of you,” and to Harbinger, “You have the will with you?”
    Harbinger smiled charmingly. “Yes, indeed, making you a very wealthy woman . . .” Which, thought Pruden, was true enough, finding fifteen million a very nice fortune. Fumbling with his attaché case Harbinger said with sympathy, “And what are your plans now?”
    Both were ignoring Pruden and Swope. Speaking directly to Harbinger she said with passion, “Oh, to get
away
.” They’d not noticed the handkerchief crumpled in one hand; she lifted it now to dab at each eye. “I can’t tell you how terrible it’s been, Everett. I’m worn out; I need a rest badly.”
    He nodded understandingly. “A spa, perhaps?” he suggested, still groping in his attaché case.
    She shook her head. “The south of France might be restful—perhaps I’ll buy a villa there. I could afford that. My nerves . . . I’ve been under sedation for days, you know, and the doctor urges a complete change of scene, it’s been such a terrible shock.” Again she dabbed at her eyes. “It’s been