“When did you retire to your room?”

“When Peter left to drive Susan home.”

“How would you describe your relationship with the Carrington family?”

“Exactly as you must have gathered from your various interviews. I never forget the fact that I am their employee, but I am also, I hope, a trusted friend.”

“So trusted that you would do anything to help them, especially Peter, who is almost a surrogate son or brother to you?”

“I have never had to worry about doing anything for Peter that would not stand the light of day, Mr. Greco. Now, if you have no more questions, I need to get to Englewood now.”

“Just one. You were also present the night Grace Carrington died, weren’t you?”

“The night Grace died in an accident, you mean. Yes. Peter had been away in Australia for several weeks. He was expected home in time for dinner, and his wife, Grace, had asked Elaine, her son, Richard, a few local friends, and myself for dinner. Because Richard’s birthday was coming up, Grace called it a birthday party for him.”

“When Peter came in, he was quite angry at what he saw?”

“Mr. Greco, there is nothing more to add to what you obviously already know about that situation. Peter was understandably upset to see that Grace had been drinking heavily.”

“He was very angry.”

“I would say upset rather than angry.”

“Did you stay over at the mansion that night?”

“No. It was about eleven o’clock when Peter arrived. We were all about to leave anyhow. Peter went upstairs. Elaine and Richard stayed with Grace.”

“Were there servants in the house?”

“Jane and Gary Barr had been hired after Peter’s mother died. Elaine let them go when she married Peter’s father. After his father’s death, however, Elaine moved to the smaller house on the grounds, and Peter rehired the Barrs. They’ve been there ever since.”

“But if they had been fired, why were they at the mansion the night Susan disappeared? Peter’s father was still alive. In fact, the dinner was really to celebrate his seventieth birthday.”

“Elaine Walker Carrington has no hesitation in using people to suit her convenience. Even though she had let the Barrs go because she wanted to hire a fancy chef and butler and a couple of maids, she asked them to help with the serving that evening, and then work the brunch the next morning. They were ten times more efficient than the new staff, and I’m sure she paid them very well.”

“Then they were rehired and I presume they served the dinner the night of Grace Carrington’s death. Would they still have been up when Peter returned?”

“Both Peter and Grace were very considerate. After coffee had been served, and the cups collected, the Barrs retired to their own place. They had moved back to the former gatehouse on the estate.”

“Mr. Slater, I spoke with Gary and Jane Barr last week. We went over their recollection of the dinner party and the brunch the next day. I discussed with Gary something I had noticed in the files. Twenty-two years ago he told investigators that the morning of the brunch, he overheard Peter Carrington tell you that Susan had left her handbag in his car the night before and he asked you to deliver it to her because there might be something she needed in it. He remembered making that statement and having heard that exchange between you and Peter.”

“He may remember it, but if you continued to look in the notes, you’d know that at that time I said his recollection was only partially true,” Vincent Slater said evenly. “Peter did not tell me Susan had left her purse in the car. He said that she might have left her purse there. It wasn’t in the car, so obviously he was mistaken. In any case, I don’t get your point.”

“It’s only a comment. Mrs. Althorp is sure she heard Susan close the door of her room that night. Obviously she didn’t intend to stay there long. But by then if she had realized her purse was in Peter’s car, and she was planning to meet him, she wouldn’t be concerned. Otherwise, if she were meeting someone else, wouldn’t it seem natural for her to select another purse, get a compact and handkerchief, the usual things women carry?”

“You’re wasting my time, Mr. Greco. You’re not seriously suggesting that Susan’s mother knew exactly how many handkerchiefs, or, for that matter, how many evening purses were in her daughter’s room?”

Nicholas Greco got up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Slater. I’m afraid there is a development you need to know about. Mrs. Althorp has been interviewed by Celeb magazine; the issue will be on the stands tomorrow. In it, Mrs. Althorp specifically accuses Peter Carrington of the murder of her daughter, Susan.”

He watched as Vincent Slater’s complexion took on a sickly yellow tint.

“That’s libel,” Slater snapped. “Slander and out-and-out libel.”

“Exactly. And the normal reaction of an innocent man like Peter Carrington will be to instruct his lawyers to sue Gladys Althorp. This would be followed by the usual process of interrogatories and depositions until there was either a retraction, settlement, or public trial. In your opinion, will Peter Carrington demand an immediate retraction from Gladys Althorp and, if it is not received, institute a suit against her to clear his name?”

Slater’s eyes had turned icy, but not before Greco caught a sudden look of fear in them. “You were about to leave, Mr. Greco,” he said.

Neither man exchanged another word as Nicholas Greco left the house. Greco walked down the path, got into his car, and started it. Who is Slater on the phone with now? he wondered as he drove down the street. Carrington? The lawyers? The new Mrs. Carrington?

An image of Kay’s heated defense of Peter Carrington when he met her in her grandmother’s home came into his mind. Kay, you should have listened to your grandmother, he thought.

12

In the morning, Peter showed no sign of being aware that he had been sleepwalking during the night. I wasn’t sure whether or not to bring it up to him. What could I say? That it looked as if he was trying to push something or someone into the pool or pull something or someone from it?

I thought I had the explanation. He was having a nightmare about Grace drowning in the pool. He was trying to rescue her. It made sense, but talking to him about it seemed pointless. He wouldn’t remember any of it.

We got up at seven. The Barrs would come in at eight to prepare breakfast, but I squeezed juice and made coffee because we decided to take a quick jog through the grounds of the estate. Oddly enough, up until now we had spoken very little about my father’s role as landscaper here. I had told Peter how hard my mother’s death must have been on Daddy, and how his suicide had devastated me. I did not, of course, mention the appalling things Nicholas Greco had said. I was infuriated by his suggestion that Daddy might have chosen to disappear because he had something to do with Susan Althorp’s disappearance.

As we jogged, Peter began to talk about my father. “My mother never changed the landscaping after my grandmother died,” he said. “Then, in fairness to Elaine, when she married my father, she said the whole place looked as if it had been designed as a cemetery. She said it had everything but a sign reading ‘rest in peace.’ Your father did a beautiful job in creating the gardens that are here now.”

“Elaine fired him because of his drinking,” I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

“That’s her story,” Peter said mildly. “Elaine always fooled around, even when my father was alive. She made a play for your dad and he brushed her off. That’s really why she fired him.”

I stopped so suddenly that he was six strides ahead of me before he slowed and came back. “I’m sorry, Kay. You were a child. How could you possibly have known?”