Read Online Murder at the Opera by Margaret Truman - Free Book Online
Authors: Margaret Truman
Tags: english
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interested in such activities, diminished, and committees for premiere events like the Opera Ball, the National Symphony Orchestra Ball, the Corcoran Ball, and dozens of smaller social events drew from a less wealthy and socially connected corps of Washington women. Not that Annabel Lee-Smith wasn’t an active member of the city’s social scene. She and Mac were involved in a number of artistic and professional organizations, and if not on the A-list of party invitees, they had their share of invitations to events that were covered in the Post ’s Style section.
Frolich, whose husband was one of the area’s best-known plastic surgeons, was experienced at spearheading big-ticket fundraisers, despite her relatively young age (no one except those who needed to know knew for certain how old she was, although the consensus was that her fiftieth birthday was still to be celebrated). Five feet, four inches tall, she gave the appearance of being taller by the way she held herself. Her silver-blond hair was styled short, with chunky highlights and short layers to make her seem taller, and to elongate her round face. Her energy level was capable of fatiguing marathoners, her smile wide, white, and genuine. She ran the committee as though it were a Fortune 500 company, and Annabel didn’t doubt that should the doctor’s wife have chosen to build a business career, she would have shattered the glass ceiling into many pieces.
Frolich concluded her status report by saying, “As Bill said, we mustn’t allow the tragedy of Ms. Lee’s death to derail our efforts to make this year’s Ball the biggest and best ever, to say nothing of the most profitable.” She spoke directly to Annabel and another woman who was on her committee. “We’ll be meeting with the full Ball staff at eleven. You’ll excuse me. I have an appointment with the florist.”
Frazier went through the remaining items on the agenda. The final notation was Internal Investigation. “Those of you at the emergency meeting last night are aware that we’ve decided to conduct our own investigation into Ms. Lee’s death. One of the supers in Tosca, a…” He looked to Annabel.
“Pawkins,” Annabel filled in. “Raymond Pawkins. He’s a retired MPD homicide detective, as well as an opera lover.”
“I know him,” said the woman in charge of WNO’s development program. “He has season tickets, has had them for years. He’s a charming man.”
“Yes, isn’t he?” Annabel said.
Frazier broke into their conversation. “Camile will coordinate with Annabel on the arrangements to be made with Mr. Pawkins.” He was referring to Camile Worthington, who headed up the board’s executive committee, and who’d called Annabel at the Watergate to tell her about the emergency meeting. They agreed to meet privately once this meeting was concluded.
Frazier concluded by saying, “I hope what Laurie said will be heeded. We don’t need the press twisting what any of us say, and that includes the use of this detective to help us investigate internally. Anything else?”
Annabel and Camile adjoined to a small office adjacent to the conference room.
“When can we get together with Mr. Perkins?” she asked.
“It’s Pawkins,” Annabel corrected. “I don’t know, but I can call Mac on his cell. Maybe they’re still together.”
Mac and Pawkins were in the middle of breakfast when his cell phone rang.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Annabel said. “I’m here with Camile Worthington. She’s wondering when she and others can get together with Mr. Pawkins.”
She heard Mac confer with Pawkins. “Ray says he’s free all day.”
“This afternoon at WNO headquarters? Say two?” was Annabel’s suggestion.
Another confab between the men. “We’ll be there,” said Mac.
Annabel found it interesting that her husband would be with Pawkins at the meeting. She knew he had a break in his teaching schedule while his students studied for final exams. Still, it was an
Frolich, whose husband was one of the area’s best-known plastic surgeons, was experienced at spearheading big-ticket fundraisers, despite her relatively young age (no one except those who needed to know knew for certain how old she was, although the consensus was that her fiftieth birthday was still to be celebrated). Five feet, four inches tall, she gave the appearance of being taller by the way she held herself. Her silver-blond hair was styled short, with chunky highlights and short layers to make her seem taller, and to elongate her round face. Her energy level was capable of fatiguing marathoners, her smile wide, white, and genuine. She ran the committee as though it were a Fortune 500 company, and Annabel didn’t doubt that should the doctor’s wife have chosen to build a business career, she would have shattered the glass ceiling into many pieces.
Frolich concluded her status report by saying, “As Bill said, we mustn’t allow the tragedy of Ms. Lee’s death to derail our efforts to make this year’s Ball the biggest and best ever, to say nothing of the most profitable.” She spoke directly to Annabel and another woman who was on her committee. “We’ll be meeting with the full Ball staff at eleven. You’ll excuse me. I have an appointment with the florist.”
Frazier went through the remaining items on the agenda. The final notation was Internal Investigation. “Those of you at the emergency meeting last night are aware that we’ve decided to conduct our own investigation into Ms. Lee’s death. One of the supers in Tosca, a…” He looked to Annabel.
“Pawkins,” Annabel filled in. “Raymond Pawkins. He’s a retired MPD homicide detective, as well as an opera lover.”
“I know him,” said the woman in charge of WNO’s development program. “He has season tickets, has had them for years. He’s a charming man.”
“Yes, isn’t he?” Annabel said.
Frazier broke into their conversation. “Camile will coordinate with Annabel on the arrangements to be made with Mr. Pawkins.” He was referring to Camile Worthington, who headed up the board’s executive committee, and who’d called Annabel at the Watergate to tell her about the emergency meeting. They agreed to meet privately once this meeting was concluded.
Frazier concluded by saying, “I hope what Laurie said will be heeded. We don’t need the press twisting what any of us say, and that includes the use of this detective to help us investigate internally. Anything else?”
Annabel and Camile adjoined to a small office adjacent to the conference room.
“When can we get together with Mr. Perkins?” she asked.
“It’s Pawkins,” Annabel corrected. “I don’t know, but I can call Mac on his cell. Maybe they’re still together.”
Mac and Pawkins were in the middle of breakfast when his cell phone rang.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Annabel said. “I’m here with Camile Worthington. She’s wondering when she and others can get together with Mr. Pawkins.”
She heard Mac confer with Pawkins. “Ray says he’s free all day.”
“This afternoon at WNO headquarters? Say two?” was Annabel’s suggestion.
Another confab between the men. “We’ll be there,” said Mac.
Annabel found it interesting that her husband would be with Pawkins at the meeting. She knew he had a break in his teaching schedule while his students studied for final exams. Still, it was an
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