Stone tried to remember. “She was reading something when I sat down; we talked about that, I think. We talked about her name, Bean, I remember. She told me that she had assisted Martin Brougham on the Dante trial, and I congratulated her on the verdict. That’s about all I recall.”

“And what did you talk about on the way to her apartment?”

“It was just idle conversation; it didn’t seem to have any particular point.”

“Did you talk about her work?”

“I suppose so, in passing.”

“Did she tell you anything about her work?”

“I remember getting the impression that she was thinking of leaving her job.”

“What did she say that gave you that impression?”

“I don’t remember, exactly; she seemed tired of the work, I thought. She didn’t seem elated about the Dante verdict.”

“You’re aware that she went to a party celebrating that verdict?”

“Yes.”

“And you say she wasn’t happy about the verdict?”

“I recall that, at the party, she was alone in another room, reading, rather than taking part in a celebration. And I didn’t say she was unhappy about the verdict, merely that she was not elated.”

“Something I don’t understand, Mr. Barrington.”

“What’s that?”

“Why would you want to murder a woman you say you hadn’t seen for more than five years?”

Stone sat up straight. “I did not murder Susan Bean, and I had no motive to do so.” He looked at Simmons, who was still taking notes. “Write that down, please.”

“I’m writing it down,” Simmons replied.

Stone stood up. “I think that will be all,” he said to Deacon.

“I’m sorry you’re reluctant to answer my questions, Mr. Barrington,” Deacon said.

“On the contrary,” Stone replied, “I want it noted for the record that I have answered all your questions. For further information about the events surrounding the death of Susan Bean, I refer you to the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct. I have given a full statement to them. As for any further questions to me, I refer you to my attorney, William Eggers, of Woodman and Weld. Good day.”

Deacon got to his feet. “Woodman and Weld? Very elegant firm. I don’t suppose they’re going to be pleased about being involved in this mess.”

“I said good day,” Stone replied, opening the door and letting them out. He had to resist the impulse to plant his foot in Thomas Deacon’s ass as he departed.

17

STONE LEFT HIS HOUSE AND WALKED UP the block to where an unmarked police car was parked. He got in. “Are Anderson and Kelly in another car around here?”

“Yeah,” the driver replied.

“Can you reach them without using the radio?”

“I can call them on their cell phone,” the cop said.

“Please.”

The cop dialed the number, then handed the phone to Stone.

“Anderson,” a voice said.