The Sky Is Falling (16 page)

“Bonjour.”

“Comment puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

He thought about it. “Yes,” he said reluctantly.

“I would like to speak to whoever is in charge here.”

He looked at her a moment, a puzzled expression on his face. Then he suddenly smiled. “Ah, Commandant Frasier.
Oui
. One moment.” He picked up a telephone and spoke into it. He nodded and turned to Dana. He pointed down the corridor. “
La première porte
.”

“Thank you.” Dana walked down the corridor until she reached the first door. Commandant Frasier’s office was small and neat. The commandant was a dapper man with a little mustache and inquisitive brown eyes. He stood up as Dana entered.

“Good afternoon, Commandant.”

“
Bonjour, mademoiselle
. In what manner can I be of assistance?”

“I’m Dana Evans. I’m doing a story for station WTN in Washington, D.C., about the Winthrop family. I understand that Paul Winthrop was killed in an accident around here?”

“
Oui. Terrible! Terrible
. One must be so careful driving the Grande Corniche. It can be
très dangereux
.”

“I heard that Paul Winthrop was killed during a race and—”

“
Non
. There was no race that day.”

“There wasn’t?”

“
Non, mademoiselle
. I myself was personally on duty when the accident occurred.”

“I see. Was Mr. Winthrop in his car alone?”

“Oui.”

“Commandant Frasier, did they do an autopsy?”

“
Oui
. Of course.”

“Was there any alcohol in Paul Winthrop’s blood?”

Commandant Frasier shook his head. “
Non
.”

“Drugs?”

“Non.”

“Do you remember what the weather was like that day?”

“
Oui. Il pleuvait
. It made rain.”

Dana had one last question, but she asked it without any hope. “I don’t suppose there were any witnesses?”

“Mais oui, il y en avait.”

Dana was staring at him, her pulse quickening. “There were?”

“One witness. He was driving behind Winthrop’s car and saw the accident happen.”

Dana felt a quick sense of excitement. “I would appreciate it very much if you would give me the witness’s name,” Dana said. “I want to talk to him.”

He nodded. “I see no harm.” He called out, “Alexandre!” and a moment later his assistant came hurrying in.

“Oui, Commandant?”

“Apportez-moi le dossier de l’accident Winthrop.”

“
Tout de suite
.” He hurried out of the room.

Commandant Frasier turned to Dana. “Such an unfortunate family. Life is
très fragile
.” He looked at Dana and smiled. “One must take one’s pleasure when he can.” He added subtly, “Or when
she
can. Are you alone here,
mademoiselle
?”

“No, my husband and children are waiting for me.”

“Dommage.”

Commandant Frasier’s assistant returned with a sheaf of papers and the commandant scanned the papers, nodded, and looked up at Dana.

“The witness to the accident was an American tourist, Ralph Benjamin. According to his statement, he was driving behind Paul Winthrop when he saw a
chien
— a dog — run in front of Winthrop’s car. Winthrop turned the wheel to not hit him, went into a big skid, and plunged off the cliff and crashed into the sea. According to the coroner’s report, Winthrop died instantly.”

“Do you have Mr. Benjamin’s address?” Dana asked hopefully.

“
Oui
.” He glanced at the paper again. “He lives in America. Richfield, Utah. Four-twenty Turk Street.” Commandant Frasier wrote the address down and handed it to Dana.

She tried hard to control her excitement. “Thank you so much.”

“
Avec plaisir
.” He looked at Dana’s bare ring finger. “And,
madame
?”

“Yes?”

“Say hello to your husband and children for me.”

Dana telephoned Matt.

“Matt,” she said excitedly. “I found a witness to Paul Winthrop’s accident. I’m going to interview him.”

“That’s great. Where is he?”

“In Utah. Richfield. I should be back in Washington right after that.”

“All right. By the way, Jeff called.”

“Yes?”

“You know he’s in Florida with his ex-wife.” He sounded disapproving.

“I know. She’s very ill.”

“If Jeff stays away much longer, I’m going to have to ask him to take a leave of absence.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back very soon.” She wished she believed it.

“Right. Good luck with the witness.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

Dana’s next call was to Kemal. Mrs. Daley answered the phone.

“Miss Evans’s residence.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Daley. Is everything all right there?” Dana was holding her breath.

“Well, your son almost burned down the kitchen helping me cook dinner last night.” She laughed. “But other than that, he’s fine.”

Dana said a silent prayer of thanks. “That’s great.”
The woman really is a miracle worker
, Dana thought.

“Will you be coming home now? I can prepare dinner and—”

“I have to make one more stop,” Dana said. “I’ll be home in two days. May I talk to Kemal?”

“He’s asleep. Shall I wake him up?”

“No, no.” Dana looked at her watch. It was only four o’clock in Washington. “He’s taking a nap?”

She heard Mrs. Daley’s warm laugh. “Yes. The lad has had a long day. He’s working hard, and he’s playing hard.”

“You give him my love. I’ll see him soon.”

I have to make one more stop. I’ll be home in two days. May I talk to Kemal?

He’s asleep. Shall I wake him up?

No, no. He’s taking a nap?

Yes. The lad has had a long day. He’s working hard, and he’s playing hard.

You give him my love. I’ll see him soon.

Tape ends.

Richfield, Utah, is a comfortable, residential town set in a bowl in the middle of the Monroe mountain range. Dana stopped at a filling station and got directions to the address Commandant Frasier had given her.

Ralph Benjamin’s home was a weatherbeaten one-story house that stood in the middle of a block of identical houses.

Dana parked the rental car, walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. The door opened and a middle-aged white-haired woman in an apron stood there. “Can I help you?”

“I would like to see Ralph Benjamin,” Dana said.

The woman studied Dana curiously. “Is he expecting you?”

“No. I — I just happened to be passing by, and I thought I’d drop in for a moment. Is he here?”

“Yes. Come in.”

“Thank you.” Dana stepped inside and followed the woman into the living room.

“Ralph, you have a visitor.”

Ralph Benjamin rose from a rocking chair and moved toward Dana. “Hello? Do I know you?”

Dana stood there, frozen. Ralph Benjamin was blind.

DANA AND MATT BAKER were in the conference room at WTN.

“Ralph Benjamin was in France visiting his son,” Dana was explaining. “One day his briefcase disappeared from his hotel room. It reappeared the next day, but his passport was missing. Matt, the man who stole it and took Benjamin’s identity and told the police he was a witness to the accident is the man who murdered Paul Winthrop.”

Matt Baker was silent for a long time. When he spoke he said, “It’s time to call the police in on this, Dana. If you’re right, we’re looking for someone who cold-bloodedly murdered six people. I don’t want you to be number seven. Elliot is worried about you, too. He thinks you’re getting in too deep.”

“We can’t bring the police in yet,” Dana protested. “Everything is circumstantial. We have no proof. We have no idea who the killer is, and we have no motive.”

“I have a bad feeling about this. It’s getting too dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I don’t either,” Dana said earnestly.

“What’s your next step?”

“Finding out what really happened to Julie Winthrop.”

“The operation was a success.”

Rachel opened her eyes slowly. She was lying in a sterile white hospital bed. Her eyes focused blearily on Jeff. “Is it gone?”

“Rachel—”

“I’m afraid to feel.” She was fighting back tears. “I’m not a woman anymore. No man will ever love me.”

He took her trembling hands in his. “You’re wrong. I never loved you because of your breasts, Rachel. I loved you because of who you are, a warm, wonderful human being.”

Rachel managed a tiny smile. “We really did love each other, didn’t we, Jeff?”

“Yes.”

“I wish…” She looked down at her chest, and her face constricted.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

She squeezed his hand harder. “I don’t want to be alone, Jeff. Not until this is all over. Please don’t leave me.”

“Rachel, I have to—”

“Not yet. I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave.”

A nurse came into the hospital room. “Would you excuse us, Mr. Connors?”

Rachel did not want to let go of Jeff’s hand. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be back.”

Late that evening Dana’s cell phone rang. She rushed across the room to pick it up. “Dana.” It was Jeff.

She felt a little thrill when she heard his voice. “Hello. How are you, darling?”

“I’m fine.”

“How is Rachel?”

“The operation went well, but Rachel’s suicidal.”

“Jeff — a woman can’t judge herself by her breasts or—”

“I know, but Rachel is not your average woman. She’s been judged by her looks since she was fifteen. She’s one of the highest-paid models in the world. Now she thinks all that is over for her. She feels like a freak. She believes she has nothing more to live for.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll stay with her for a few more days and help her get settled in her home. I talked to the doctor. He’s still waiting for the test results to see whether they got it all. They think they’ll need to follow up with chemotherapy treatments.”

There was nothing Dana could say.

“I miss you,” Jeff said.

“I miss you, my dearest. I have some Christmas presents for you.”

“Hold them for me.”

“I will.”

“Are you wiped out from all the traveling?”

“Not yet.”

“Make sure you leave your cell phone turned on,” Jeff said. “I plan to make some obscene phone calls.”

Dana smiled. “Promise?”

“Promise. Take care of yourself, darling.”

“You, too.” The conversation was over. Dana hung up and sat there for a long time, thinking about Jeff and Rachel. She got up and went into the kitchen.

Mrs. Daley was saying to Kemal, “More pancakes, darlin’?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Dana stood there watching the two of them. In the short time Mrs. Daley had been there, Kemal had changed so much. He was calm and relaxed and happy. Dana felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
Maybe I’m the wrong person for him
. Guiltily, she remembered her long days and late nights at the television studio.
Maybe someone like Mrs. Daley should have adopted him
. She shook herself out of it.
What’s the matter with me? Kemal loves me
.

Dana sat down at the table. “Still enjoying the new school?”

“It’s cool.”

Dana took his hand. “Kemal, I’m afraid I’m going to have to go away again.”

He said indifferently, “That’s okay.”

The pang of jealousy came back.

“Where are you off to now, Miss Evans?” Mrs. Daley asked.

“Alaska.”

Mrs. Daley was thoughtful for a moment. “Watch out for those grizzly bears,” she advised.

The flight from Washington to Juneau, Alaska, took nine hours, with a stopover in Seattle. Inside the Juneau airport, Dana walked over to the car-rental counter.

“My name is Dana Evans. I—”

“Yes, Miss Evans. We have a nice Land Rover for you. Stall ten. Just sign here.”

The clerk handed her the keys and Dana walked around to the lot in back of the building. There were a dozen cars in numbered stalls. Dana walked over to stall ten. A man was kneeling in back of the car, working on the tailpipe of a white Land Rover. He looked up as Dana approached.

“Just tightening the tailpipe, miss. You’re all set.” He rose.

“Thank you,” Dana said.

He watched her drive away.

In the basement of a government building, a man was looking at a digital map on a computer. He watched the white Land Rover make a right turn.

“The subject is heading for Starr Hill.”

Juneau was a surprise to Dana. At first sight, it appeared to be a large city, but the narrow, winding streets gave Alaska’s capital city the small-town atmosphere of a village nestled in the middle of an ice-age wilderness.

Dana checked into the popular Inn at the Waterfront, a former brothel located in the center of town.

“You’re in time for some great skiing,” the hotel desk man told her. “We’re having a good snow season. Bring your own skis?”

“No, I—”

“Well, there’s a ski shop right next door. I’m sure they can fix you up with anything you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Dana said.
It’s a good place to start
. Dana unpacked and went into the ski shop.

The clerk in the shop was a nonstop talker. The moment Dana walked in he said, “Hi. I’m Chad Donohoe. Well, you’ve sure come to the right place.” He indicated a batch of skis. “We just got these Freeriders in. These babies can really handle the bumps and jumps.” He pointed to another section. “Or — these are the Salomon X-Scream 9s. They’re in big demand. Last year we ran out and couldn’t get any more.” He saw the impatient expression on Dana’s face and hurried over to the next group. “If you prefer, we have the Vocal Vertigo G30 or the Atomic 10.20.” He looked at Dana expectantly. “Which would you—?”