I is for Innocent

"Taking any client they could," she inserted with acid.

"Was there bad blood about that?"

She fiddled primly with her ring. "Not to hear him tell it, but of course there was."

"Now, Yolanda, that's not true. I wished her all the best."

"Peter hates to make a fuss. He won't confront anyone, least of all someone like her. After all he'd done."

"As I understand it, Isabelle came up with the idea for tiny houses while she was working for you."

"That's right."

"What about… what's it called… proprietary rights? Wouldn't the idea actually belong to you?"

Peter started to answer, but Yolanda broke in. "Of course. He never even asked her to sign the form. The woman walked out with everything. He wouldn't even press the point, though I begged him to. In effect, Isabelle stole millions from him-literally millions…"

I formed my next question with care. I could already tell Peter was much too circumspect to be of any use in my investigation. Yolanda, the spite queen, was going to serve me well if I could set her up right. "You must have been furious."

"And why wouldn't I be? She was a self-indulgent, degenerate-" She bit off the sentence.

"Go on," I said.

"Yolanda," Peter said with a warning look.

She amended her stance. "I wouldn't want to speak ill."

"It won't hurt her at this point. I understand she was excessive-"

"Excessive doesn't begin to cover it. She was downright dishonest!"

Peter leaned toward his wife. "I don't think we should present a totally biased view. You may not have been fond of her, but she was talented."

"Yes, she was," Yolanda said, coloring. "And I suppose-to be fair about it-her problems were not all her fault. Sometimes I almost felt sorry for her. She was neurotic and high-strung. The woman had everything but happiness. David latched onto her like a parasite and he sucked her dry."

I waited for more, but she seemed to have run down. I looked at Peter. "Is that your analysis?"

"It's not my place to judge."

"I'm not asking you to judge her. I'd like your point of view. It might help me understand the situation."

He thought about that one briefly and apparently decided it made sense. "She was unfortunate. I don't know what else to say."

"How long did she work for you?"

"A little over four years. An informal apprenticeship."

"Simone told me she didn't actually have an architectural degree," I said.

"That's correct. Isabelle had no formal design training. She had wonderful ideas. She bubbled over with enthusiasm. It was almost as if the same reservoir fed both her creativity and her destruction."

"Was she a manic-depressive?"

"She seemed to live with very high levels of anxiety, which is why she drank," he said.

"She drank because she was an alcoholic," Yolanda put in.

"We don't know that," he said.

She had to laugh at that, patting herself on the chest to curb her merriment. "You'll never get a man to admit a beautiful woman is flawed."

I could feel the tension collecting again at the back of my neck. "What sort of man is David Barney? I gather he's an architect. Is he talented?"

Yolanda said, "He's a carpenter with pretensions."

Peter brushed her response aside. "He's a very good technician," Peter said.

"Technician?"

"That's not meant as criticism."

"He's the defendant. You can criticize all you like."

"I'm reluctant to do that. After all, we're in the same profession even though I'm retired. It's a small town. I don't feel it's my place to comment on his qualifications."

"What about the man himself?"

"I never cared for him personally."

"Oh, for God's sake, Peter. Why don't you tell her the truth? You can't stand the man. Nobody can abide him. He's sly and dishonest. He manipulates left and right-"

"Yolanda-"

"Don't you 'Yolanda' me! She's asked for an opinion and I'm giving her mine. You're so busy being nice you forget how to tell the truth. David Barney is a spider. Peter thought we should all socialize, and we did, over my protest. I felt it was going too far. When the two of them were in Peter's firm, I tried to be pleasant. I didn't care for David, but I did what was expected. Isabelle had brought in a great deal of business and we were appreciative of that. Once she got involved with David… he was not a good influence."

I refocused my attention. She'd be great on the witness stand if she could keep from losing it. "How'd she manage to bring in so much business?"

"She had a lot of money and she traveled in the right circles. People looked up to her because it was clear she had exquisite taste. She was very stylish. Whatever she took up, everyone else followed suit."

"When she and David left, they took a lot of clients with them?"

"That's not unusual," Peter said hastily. "It's unfortunate, of course, but it happens in every business."

"It was a disaster," Yolanda said. "Peter retired shortly afterwards. The last time we saw them was the di

"When the gun disappeared?"

The two exchanged a look. Peter cleared his throat again. "We heard about that later."

"We heard about it at the time. There was a frightful quarrel upstairs in the master bedroom. Of course, we didn't know the subject, but that's certainly what it was."

"What's your theory about who might have taken it?"

"Well, he did, of course," Yolanda said without the slightest hesitation.

7

I stopped by the office briefly and typed up my notes. The light on my answering machine was blinking merrily. I punched the Replay button and listened to the message. It was Isabelle's friend Rhe Parsons, sounding harried and dutiful, the kind of person who returns a phone call just to get it over with. I tried her number, letting the phone ring while I leafed through one of the files sitting on my desk. Where was I going to find a witness who could put David Barney at the murder scene? Lo

"Oh, hi. This is Kinsey Millhone. May I speak to Rhe Parsons?"

"You're doing it. Who's this?"

"Kinsey Millhone. I left a message-"

"Oh, right, right," she cut in. "About Isabelle. I don't understand what you want."

"Look, I know you talked to Morley Shine a couple of months ago."

"Who?"

"The investigator who was handling this. Unfortunately, he had a heart at-"

"I never talked to anyone about Isabelle."

"You didn't talk to Morley? He was working for an attorney in the lawsuit filed by Ke

"I don't know about any of this stuff."

"Sorry. Maybe I was misinformed. Why don't I tell you what's going on," I said. I went through a brief explanation of the lawsuit and the job I'd been hired to do. "I promise I won't take any more of your time than I have to, but I would like to have a quick chat."

"I'm swamped. You couldn't have called at a worse time," she said. "I'm a sculptor with a show coming up in two days. Every minute I've got is devoted to that."

"What about coffee or a glass of wine later this afternoon? It doesn't have to be nine to five. I can come at your convenience."

"But it has to be today, right? Can't it wait a week?"

"We have a court date coming up." We're all busy, I thought.

"Look, I don't mean to sound bitchy, but she's been gone for six years. Whatever happens to David Barney, it won't bring her back to life. So what's the point, you know?"

I said, "There's no point to anything if you get right down to it. We could all blow our brains out, but we don't. Sure, she's gone, but her death doesn't have to be senseless."