Bombshell
Page 20
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“I did go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, not a wink, so I spent most of the night listening to Anton Rubinstein’s Cello Concerto in A Minor. You know, the piece I’m going to perform in February. What I really wanted was to actually practice it, but I know Mr. McGibbs would be pissed since it was the middle of the night—” Henry shrugged. “Mr. McGibbs lives a good fifty feet away from us but he still bitches if I play too late. I guess I finally fell asleep, since I didn’t wake up until about nine o’clock this morning. I called the hospital, but nobody would tell me anything, so I went to Maurie’s Diner for breakfast. Anna was there. Since she’s your best friend, I told her what happened. She was really upset. I saw her walk over to the restrooms and make a call on her cell phone. When she came back with my bacon and eggs, she spilled coffee on me.”
Who did she call? Griffin wondered.
“Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?”
Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. “Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there—and, well, I didn’t know who, Delsey, that’s all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?”
Griffin let it go. “Is that all you remember, Henry?”
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin nearly laughed at all the “sirring,” since Henry Stoltzen looked to be a couple of years older than he was. He’d seen it before. It was the power of the FBI shield.
Griffin said, “Delsey, since I taught you well, I know you locked your front door when you left for Salazar’s party. Whoever was in your place jimmied open the back door.”
She stared at him. “I didn’t know. I must not have noticed when I went in. I still don’t remember anything.”
They heard Claus say, “Sir, you can’t go in there—”
Henry said, “Oh my, it’s Dr. Hayman.”
Griffin raised his hand. “It’s okay, Claus. Thank you.” He watched Dr. Elliot Hayman, director of Stanislaus, walk—no, stroll—into the room.
So this was Professor Salazar’s brother. Dr. Hayman was a bit taller than his twin, a bit leaner, and even more the fashion plate in a fur-lined suede jacket, perfectly pleated black slacks, white shirt, tie, and Italian loafers he’d obviously protected since they had a high shine and no sign of snow or mud. Apart from a certain Mediterranean look, there wasn’t much physical resemblance between them. There were no slashes of gray at Dr. Hayman’s temples. He looked younger than his brother, and, Griffin thought, he appeared more thoughtful. Dr. Hayman’s eyes rested on Griffin; his dark brows went up. He didn’t look through Griffin, as his brother had. He met his eyes and nodded. “So I’m told you are Delsey’s brother, Agent Griffin Hammersmith of the FBI?”
“Yes, I am.” He shook Dr. Hayman’s hand, a fine hand with long, thin fingers, like his brother’s. Griffin had to admit Dr. Hayman looked more a convincing aristocrat than his smooth lizard twin. He had more gravitas, had the look of the man in charge of his kingdom.
“I am glad to meet you, Agent Hammersmith. I have come because I was quite worried when I heard Delsey had been hurt. She is one of our finest students. No one could tell me what happened. Ah, here is Mr. Stoltzen. How are you today, Henry? How is the Rubinstein cello concerto coming along?”
Henry beamed. “I’ll be ready, sir.”
“Yes, of course you will.”
Henry darted Delsey a glance. “I, ah, I’ve got to go, Delsey, all right?”
She nodded, waited for Henry to leave, then said to Dr. Hayman, “Thank you for coming, sir.”
“Of course. You and your brother, you have different last names. Why is this?”
Delsey smiled up at him. “Freestone was my married name. Even though I’m no longer married, I liked the name because it sang to me, and so I kept it.” She left unspoken even though it belonged to a real loser. “How did you know Griffin is my brother?”
“Ah, your brother has already been around town, asking Rafael, and many of your well-wishers, about you. I heard he was here at the same time I learned of your injury.” He walked regally to Delsey’s bedside and took her hand. “My poor child, whatever has happened? Are you all right?”
With the way he’d recognized and treated Henry, the concern he was showing for Delsey, Griffin thought Dr. Hayman had all the charm and charisma his twin lacked.
Who did she call? Griffin wondered.
“Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?”
Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. “Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there—and, well, I didn’t know who, Delsey, that’s all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?”
Griffin let it go. “Is that all you remember, Henry?”
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin nearly laughed at all the “sirring,” since Henry Stoltzen looked to be a couple of years older than he was. He’d seen it before. It was the power of the FBI shield.
Griffin said, “Delsey, since I taught you well, I know you locked your front door when you left for Salazar’s party. Whoever was in your place jimmied open the back door.”
She stared at him. “I didn’t know. I must not have noticed when I went in. I still don’t remember anything.”
They heard Claus say, “Sir, you can’t go in there—”
Henry said, “Oh my, it’s Dr. Hayman.”
Griffin raised his hand. “It’s okay, Claus. Thank you.” He watched Dr. Elliot Hayman, director of Stanislaus, walk—no, stroll—into the room.
So this was Professor Salazar’s brother. Dr. Hayman was a bit taller than his twin, a bit leaner, and even more the fashion plate in a fur-lined suede jacket, perfectly pleated black slacks, white shirt, tie, and Italian loafers he’d obviously protected since they had a high shine and no sign of snow or mud. Apart from a certain Mediterranean look, there wasn’t much physical resemblance between them. There were no slashes of gray at Dr. Hayman’s temples. He looked younger than his brother, and, Griffin thought, he appeared more thoughtful. Dr. Hayman’s eyes rested on Griffin; his dark brows went up. He didn’t look through Griffin, as his brother had. He met his eyes and nodded. “So I’m told you are Delsey’s brother, Agent Griffin Hammersmith of the FBI?”
“Yes, I am.” He shook Dr. Hayman’s hand, a fine hand with long, thin fingers, like his brother’s. Griffin had to admit Dr. Hayman looked more a convincing aristocrat than his smooth lizard twin. He had more gravitas, had the look of the man in charge of his kingdom.
“I am glad to meet you, Agent Hammersmith. I have come because I was quite worried when I heard Delsey had been hurt. She is one of our finest students. No one could tell me what happened. Ah, here is Mr. Stoltzen. How are you today, Henry? How is the Rubinstein cello concerto coming along?”
Henry beamed. “I’ll be ready, sir.”
“Yes, of course you will.”
Henry darted Delsey a glance. “I, ah, I’ve got to go, Delsey, all right?”
She nodded, waited for Henry to leave, then said to Dr. Hayman, “Thank you for coming, sir.”
“Of course. You and your brother, you have different last names. Why is this?”
Delsey smiled up at him. “Freestone was my married name. Even though I’m no longer married, I liked the name because it sang to me, and so I kept it.” She left unspoken even though it belonged to a real loser. “How did you know Griffin is my brother?”
“Ah, your brother has already been around town, asking Rafael, and many of your well-wishers, about you. I heard he was here at the same time I learned of your injury.” He walked regally to Delsey’s bedside and took her hand. “My poor child, whatever has happened? Are you all right?”
With the way he’d recognized and treated Henry, the concern he was showing for Delsey, Griffin thought Dr. Hayman had all the charm and charisma his twin lacked.
