Bleeding Hearts(24)

The problem with Bennis, as far as Gregor was concerned, was not the flakiness she liked to pretend to, but the driving determination she liked to indulge. That, Gregor knew, was the key to Bennis. Out in the world somewhere, Gregor was sure, there were hundreds of other women who wrote as well as Bennis did. There were probably dozens who published as frequently and were as well reviewed. None of them had a tenth of the energy, or the bullheadedness.

Unfortunately, Bennis did not restrict her application of drive, determination, energy, or bullheadedness to her professional life. She brought those things to everything she did, including eating breakfast in the morning. She caused herself a lot of trouble.

Now she threw her sheaf of computer printout paper on top of Gregor’s Philadelphia Inquirer, said, “Hi, Linda” and “Could I have a pot of really muddy black coffee and a full sugar bowl?” and threw her red scarf on top of Gregor’s coat. Then she sat down and put her chin in her hands.

“Just guess,” she said, “what I found out last night.”

Gregor Demarkian did not like to guess things with Bennis Hannaford. He suspected Bennis of setting traps. He said, “I don’t know. Wasn’t your brother supposed to come in last night? Has he got a new job?”

“He’s got the same job he always had,” Bennis said, “and he’s fine and all the rest of that and he’s sleeping in. It’s not about Christopher, for God’s sake. What do you take me for?”

I take you for a prime pain in the nether regions, Gregor told himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. “I take it whatever awful thing you’ve found out is about a person. You’ve got that news-about-a-person expression on your face. Who is it?”

“Hannah Krekorian.”

Gregor blinked. “That’s odd. This seems to be Hannah’s day. Linda was just telling me that Hannah got her out of bed this morning, trying to place a catering order for a big party she’s decided to hold this Friday night.”

“Did she really?” Bennis said. “I take it this was a spur-of-the-moment thing?”

“Linda seems to think so.”

“I bet it’s a get-acquainted party,” Bennis said. “That would just fit. Oh, I really can’t believe this is happening.”

“A get-acquainted party for Hannah Krekorian?” Gregor said.

Linda Melajian came up carrying a tray holding two large pots of coffee, two saucers, two cups, two spoons, two napkins, and an immense sugar bowl. Bennis said, “Thanks a lot,” poured one of the coffee cups two-thirds full of evil black liquid, seemed to fill the rest of the cup up with sugar, and bent over her computer printouts. Linda picked up Bennis’s coffee cup and put a saucer under it.

“Back in a minute with breakfast,” she said.

Bennis looked after Linda’s retreating figure. “I suppose you ordered one of those breakfasts that are a kind of suicide pact with your arteries. I ought to lecture you about it but I just don’t have the time. Listen. Yesterday afternoon Tibor had that demonstration at City Hall or wherever with Father Ryan and Father Carmichael and all those people—”

“The demonstration about the street vendors. I remember. In protest against the city raising the licensing fee or something like that.”

“Right,” Bennis said. “Well, about, I don’t know, maybe seven o’clock last night, I get a call from Tibor that he’s been arrested and he owes a fine and can I come down and pay it. Which is all right, because I knew that was probably coming when the day started. So I packed up all the money I could find in the apartment—”

“Which was probably too much,” Gregor interrupted automatically. “You keep too much cash around. You’re going to get robbed.”

Bennis ignored him. “Anyway, I got all this money together because I knew I was going to get down to the courthouse and find out there were five other people too broke to pay their fines and then what was I going to do, so I took the whole wad and I went out onto the street to find a cab. And I did. Right away. That’s because just as I got out there to look for one, Hannah Krekorian came home in one. With a companion.”

“So who was this companion?” Gregor asked. “You make it sound like Jack the Ripper.”

“I think Jack the Ripper is very apt. Although I didn’t recognize him then. He was too far away. A really tall, cadaverously thin man in a good coat. It wasn’t until I got back that I realized who it was.”

“Because you’d been thinking about it,” Gregor said slowly.

“Not at all.” Bennis was indignant. “I wouldn’t get this worked up just from speculation.”