“Oh, I don’t know,” Gregor said, “my scope seems to be far less limited now that I’m on my own than it ever was when I was with the Bureau.”
“Does it? I think I’d find myself at loose ends.”
“There’s always something to keep my interest up. I like history, for instance. I never had enough time for historical research when I was directing a government department.”
“History,” Paul Hazzard repeated. “Do you like any particular period of history? Are you one of those people who knows the blood type of every soldier who fought at Antietam or do you plot the course of Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow?”
“I’m interested in the history of crime, of course.”
“Of course. Unsolved mysteries, I suppose.”
“All the really unsolved mysteries,” Gregor said, “aren’t perceived as mysteries. They’re the case of old Mrs. Smith who died so suddenly, wasn’t it odd, but heart attacks happen that way. Except that it wasn’t a heart attack and it was worse than odd, but nobody knows it, although one or two people may suspect. Either that, or the crime is unsolved because it’s a simple case of random brutality. Street thug sees old lady with purse on street, goes up to old lady, sticks her with his flic knife, grabs her purse, disappears. As long as he takes only cash and gets rid of the purse at the first opportunity, it’s the perfect crime.”
“But his fingerprints will be on the purse,” Paul Hazzard said.
“Yes, they will, but it won’t matter. The chances are one in a million that the match will ever be made if he’s picked up for something else. Our computer matching systems just aren’t that good.”
“I see.” Paul Hazzard looked away. The room was too full of people. And there was too much noise. “That’s rather disheartening to hear. I’ve spent much of the last four years thinking that a little mystery of my own would be solved any day now, cracked wide open finally by some cop somewhere picking up some junkie thief and running his prints. You did know I was once—involved—in the investigation of a murder?”
“Yes, Mr. Hazzard. I knew that.”
“It was my wife who was killed,” Paul Hazzard said. “My second wife. Jacqueline. They thought I’d done it, of course. They put me on trial for it, but I was acquitted. I suppose you knew all that too.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Do you suppose all these people know it?” Paul Hazzard gestured around the room.
Gregor thought of Bennis with her computer printout. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, Mr. Hazzard. It all happened a long time ago, and the state had a fair shot at you in a fair trial. Even if you did kill your wife, I doubt if anything could be done about it now.”
“There could be new evidence.”
“It would have to be very, very, very good new evidence. There are constitutional prohibitions against double jeopardy. The courts take them quite seriously. So do the police.”
“I didn’t kill my wife.” Paul Hazzard had stopped looking around the room. He was doing his best to stare straight into Gregor’s eyes. “I know it’s asinine to make such a point of it after all this time, but it’s true and the truth of it matters to me. I did not kill my wife.”
Gregor said nothing.
“When I found her lying in the living room that night, I thought I was going crazy,” Paul Hazzard said. “Except, of course, I wouldn’t have put it that way then. Do you believe the universe is split in two?”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Paul Hazzard seemed to straighten, although he hadn’t been slouching that Gregor could tell. “I’d better get back to Hannah. I’m supposed to be helping out. I’m glad to have met you, Mr. Demarkian.”
“I’m glad to have met you too.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
Jab. Thrust. Sharp edge. Stab. Gregor was startled. The comment was such a change from Paul Hazzard’s customary oversincerity. It almost made him human.
Paul Hazzard stepped into the crowd around Hannah near the door. Gregor looked around for Bennis and found her nearly at his elbow. She must have been eavesdropping on the whole thing.
“I don’t like him,” she said promptly. “Do you? He comes off to me like somebody who’s after something.”
“He probably is,” Gregor said mildly.
“I don’t see how you can let him take advantage of Hannah,” Bennis said. “Really, Gregor. Sometimes I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
As far as Gregor was concerned, most of the time Bennis didn’t know what he was thinking. Gregor took this as a blessing.