The Melody Lingers On (25 page)

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Authors: Mary Higgins Clark

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BOOK: The Melody Lingers On
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O
n Wednesday morning Lane went to work, her mind filled with what Eric had told her the night before. Once again, it had been so very pleasant. She
could not deny the chemistry that was developing between them. In this past week alone the attraction between them had grown ever stronger. She certainly felt it and she was sure it was not
one-sided. Once again he had expressed his feelings for her. Yet so many people thought he had been involved with his father in the theft.

Dwight absolutely despised him. But why? It wasn’t fair that he would never give any reason for feeling that way.

I can’t love somebody and get hurt again, she thought, remembering the heartbreak of losing her father and then Ken. Katie can’t get hurt either. Even though Katie had not seen Eric
for several weeks, she had asked about him just this morning.

But fortunately, Glady’s mood had improved greatly.

“I can have the art and sculptures picked up from La-di-da’s apartment if I don’t receive her payment,” she said. “It’s absolutely against the policy of the
Greer Company to take back anything they sold, but they recognize the fact that I have purchased there for many clients over the years.”

“I’m so glad. That was really nice of them,” Lane said enthusiastically.

“Well it certainly doesn’t hurt them to cut me some slack. They’ve made a fortune on the people I’ve brought there,” Glady said. “I’ve earned every
cent. That dump was a cluttered mess, a tribute to bad taste, until I got my hands on it.”

I think I’ve heard that before, Lane thought, but she did agree and gave Glady the reassurance she wanted. “Glady, it’s one of your finest projects. That apartment is inviting
and beautiful.”

Later that day they were in the office when a phone call came in from FBI agent Rudy Schell asking both of them to please come into his office at their earliest convenience.

Holding the phone in her hand, Glady went into Lane’s office. “An FBI agent wants to see us,” she said. “Have you any appointments tomorrow?”

“Nothing I can’t change,” Lane answered.

“Well this should be interesting,” Glady said. “I’ll bet my next commission check that this is about Her Royal Nothing, the countess, and I also bet it has something to
do with Parker Bennett.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Lane said even as she feared it might also be about Eric.

“And didn’t I say she still may be involved with him?” Glady continued. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Yes you did, Glady. Yes you did.”

That evening over dinner Katie told Lane about how her teacher told her that she was going to be a wonderful artist someday. “That’s what I tell you, Katie!” Lane said, hoping
her daughter would not notice how preoccupied she was.

“And I have a special surprise for you and I want to show you right now,” Katie said excitedly. “May I please?”

“Of course.” Lane smiled indulgently.

She listened to Katie’s hurried footsteps as she ran down the hallway to her room. When she returned, she was holding a piece of canvas about the size of a legal envelope.

“Let me see,” Lane said, a genuine smile on her face.

She looks so much like Ken, Lane thought as Katie hugged the canvas with a happy smile. Of course that red hair is from my side but her eyes and the shape of her face are just like his. The
anniversary of his death was only a few days away. Her mind continued to be filled with the memories of their brief life together and what might have been if he had lived.

Then slowly, dramatically, Katie turned the canvas and proudly displayed it.

“Does it look like Daddy?” she asked excitedly. “I took the picture from your dresser to school with me every day last week but I brought it home every day and put it right
back. That was okay, wasn’t it?”

Lane stared, unable to speak over the lump in her throat. It was certainly a child’s artistic re-creation but it was Ken just the same.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “It looks just like him. He would be so proud of you.”

“Am I like him?” Katie asked, her voice suddenly wistful.

“Yes, you are.” Lane stood up, folded her in her arms, careful not to crush the precious canvas. Then she took it from Katie and laid it carefully at the end of the table.

When they both sat down and began to eat, she said, “Your daddy used to tell me that when he was your age, he loved to draw and paint. I still have a few pictures that he did when he was
in the first grade. I’m going to find them and show them to you.”

Later, when Katie was in bed, Lane sat in the living room with no desire to turn on the television. She had an unsettled feeling because the timing of this picture just before the anniversary of
Ken’s death was coupled with trying to sort out her feelings about Eric. Where was all of this going? What would Ken think about her relationship with Eric? Was Eric the kind of man Ken would
approve of as a stepfather for Katie? She knew it was inevitable that if she kept seeing Eric their relationship would move to the next level.

Last night was proof of that. At the end of their dinner Eric told her again how much he cared about her.

“Lane, I’m thirty-seven years old,” he began. “I’ve had my share of relationships. But there was always something missing. I’ve always known something more
was waiting for me.

“And now, with you, I’ve found it.”

54

O
nce again Lane did not sleep very well that night. The next afternoon, at three o’clock, she and Glady arrived at Rudy Schell’s
office.

Rudy escorted them into one of the conference rooms and, after offering them coffee, came right to the point.

“Ms. Harper,” he said to Glady. “How much longer will you be working at Countess de la Marco’s apartment?”

“It will be another few weeks before the last of the details are completed,” Glady answered.

“Has she been paying you regularly?” Rudy continued.

“She was. But she owes me two million dollars now. She claims she’ll have it in a few days. I can tell she’s stalling for time. If she doesn’t come through very soon,
I’m having some paintings and sculptures removed, and that of course lowers my commission.” Glady’s tone was clearly annoyed.

Rudy nodded. “The fact that she may be running out of cash is exactly what I expected to hear,” he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice.

“And why is that?” Glady asked. “Are you a mind reader?”

Always that touch of sarcasm with Glady, Lane thought.

“I wish I were a mind reader. I could have solved many cases a lot faster and with a lot less hard work.” Rudy’s tone was businesslike. “Ms. Harper, Ms. Harmon, are you
aware that the countess was rumored to be Parker Bennett’s mistress?”

“Rumored!” Glady laughed. “Of course she was. Everybody knows that.”

“Parker Bennett’s body was never found but we think it is entirely possible, even probable, that he staged his disappearance. I understand that you have been in and out of her
apartment regularly these past weeks. Do you think she might have been in touch with Bennett?”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Glady answered. “The first time I told her how much it would cost to decorate the apartment, she excused herself and left the room to
make a phone call. When she came back, she gave us the go-ahead. I think she was talking to her version of Santa Claus.”

“Good analogy,” Rudy observed. “Then you do believe it’s a possibility?”

“Possibility, sure. Probability, maybe,” Glady replied.

“Recently on Page Six in the
Post
there was an item about the countess having dinner with Barclay Cameron,” Rudy said.

“You read the
Post,
” Glady commented. “I would think you were too busy to waste time on Page Six. I saw that item as well. The countess and Barclay Cameron were an
item some years ago. My guess is she’s trying to rekindle the flame because something has happened to her cash flow.”

“Ms. Harper, you seem to be very knowledgeable about the countess’s activities,” Schell observed dryly.

“When you are an interior designer for the kind of clientele I have, you hear a great deal of gossip,” Glady snapped.

Schell turned to Lane. “Ms. Harmon, you have been seeing Eric Bennett?”

Astonished, Lane said, “I have had dinner with him a few times. “Why do you care about that?”

“I have made it my business to be aware of Bennett’s activities and now I will tell you both why I asked you here today. We believe we may be getting closer to apprehending Parker
Bennett. We believe the countess is in touch with him. We have always believed that Eric Bennett was involved in his father’s fraud.”

“And he has been living with the knowledge that many people believe that, Mr. Schell,” Lane argued. “It has been a terrible burden for him to bear.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rudy replied. “The point is that each of you can be of great service to the FBI. Let me put it another way. If we apprehend Parker Bennett, we believe we
would be able to recover at least some, if not most, of the money he stole. Ms. Harper, like you, we think the countess is communicating with Parker Bennett. I would like you to continue to go in
and out of that apartment as often as is reasonable and report to us anything you may hear. Obviously you do feel the countess is getting nervous about the decorating expenses.”

“You bet she is,” Glady retorted. “Like I said, I plan on removing some artwork and sculptures from the apartment unless the outstanding two million dollars is paid this
week.”

“Wouldn’t that terminate your relationship with the countess?” Rudy asked worriedly.

“Yes, it would, because I sure as heck am not going to do any more work if I’m not getting paid,” Glady answered.

“Ms. Harper,” Rudy began slowly, “would you leave the artwork there so that you can continue to frequent the apartment for a while longer? I would like you to place a listening
device in the countess’s bedroom. I assure you I have a court order authorizing this. During the day when she is not there, what room does she spend most of her time in?”

“The library,” Glady answered. “She usually has her lunch served in there and whenever she takes a phone call, she does so in that room.”

“Then I will want a listening device in the library as well,” Rudy said. “And, Ms. Harmon, I would like you to encourage Eric Bennett in his affection toward you.”

“How do you know he shows affection toward me?” Lane asked angrily.

“We have been watching him, Ms. Harmon,” Rudy replied. “I would like you to win Eric Bennett’s trust. Tell him you don’t care if he was involved with his father. At
least hint at that.”

“I absolutely will do no such thing!” Lane cried. “Eric is a fine and decent man and he has suffered terribly throughout this entire ordeal. He told me he emptied his own bank
account and turned over every dime he had to the victims’ recovery fund.”

Rudy’s voice became chipped with ice. “Ms. Harmon, Eric Bennett did not give one penny to the victims’ recovery fund. Believe me, I would know. If he told you that, it was a
complete fabrication. And if he lied to you about that, I can assure you that he’s lied about other things as well. Our hope is that if you seem to him to be responsive to his overtures
toward you, if you even tell him you don’t care if he was involved in the fraud, he may trust you enough to confide in you. Now I will show you how to use a listening device when you are with
him. I would also ask you to see him perhaps several times each week for dinner.”

Shaken, Lane stared at Schell. I don’t think he’s telling the truth, she thought. He’s manipulating me to try to get me to spy on Eric; I know he is. The thought of wearing a
hidden microphone to record every word Eric said was abhorrent to her.

“I absolutely refuse to cooperate,” she said heatedly. “I believe in Eric Bennett’s innocence. It’s disgusting that you are asking me to entrap him.”

“Do you believe that Eric Bennett really emptied his bank account and sold his stock portfolio to aid the victims?” Schell asked scornfully.

“Yes I do, Mr. Schell, and I believe you are trying to trick me into turning against a friend who trusts me.”

“You’re a fool, Lane,” Glady said crisply. “I will be happy to plant those devices in the countess’s apartment, Mr. Schell. As I told you, I believe Parker
Bennett’s money is paying my bills and I don’t like it. If you can prove the countess is involved, you would be able to seize that apartment and its proceeds would go to the
victims’ fund, correct?”

“That is correct,” Rudy agreed.

“Well, you will get more money for it since my refurbishment than you would have before. So that is my contribution to the fund,” Glady said.

“Glady, you seem to be forgetting that the de la Marcos’ estate owns the apartment, not the countess,” Lane interjected.

“I haven’t forgotten that, Lane,” Glady shot back. “But if she goes to jail, I will bet you that if they can get that apartment back, they will be happy to make some sort
of deal to repay the value of my improvements.”

Rudy Schell had heard that Glady Harper was an excellent businesswoman. She sure is, he thought, then said, “Ms. Harper, thank you. With your help we may be able to bring Parker Bennett to
justice.”

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