Gregor drew John Jackman away from the scene and the cops and the techies and into the foyer near the elevators. In the few seconds that he had had his head turned, the crowd around Carmencita Boaz had disappeared. Gregor found himself wondering how the stretcher had fit into the elevator. It was a slightly oversize elevator, so maybe the crush hadn’t been too bad. It was only very slightly oversize, so maybe it had. Obviously, Gregor thought, he wasn’t doing any better at thinking straight than anyone else.
Gregor shut the fire door on the techies swearing at each other—they did it so well, Gregor sometimes imagined they had to take a test for it; if you couldn’t think of thirteen ways to use the F word in one sentence, you had to give up your dreams of being a techie and go into library work—and said, “Well? What do you think?”
“Itzaak Blechmann walked in on it,” Jackman said. “Either that, or he did it.”
“He didn’t do it,” Gregor said. “Our friend got lucky.”
“You mean because Itzaak didn’t see him? Maybe. But he got unlucky, too. The woman’s alive.”
“Alive and unconscious,” Gregor said. “And there’s nothing to say she saw her attacker. And even if she did, she may not remember.”
“Gee, Gregor. Don’t work too hard at making me feel good. I might get overconfident and think I was having a good day.”
“Don’t be facetious,” Gregor said impatiently. “Look at our situation here. In the first place, I think this time we may be able to find the weapon.”
“Why?”
“Because there wouldn’t have been time to get rid of it. Our friend is in a bind. The plan was to kill Carmencita Boaz in a place where she was unlikely to be found for several hours, therefore making time for all the housekeeping details so necessary to bringing off a successful homicide. But there wasn’t any time. Our friend lifted the tire iron—”
“Are you really sure it was a tire iron?”
“I’m positive. Our friend lifted the tire iron and began to bring it down on Carmencita’s head. Then our friend heard Itzaak, not passing across the foyer to the elevators but coming closer, or maybe our friend heard Itzaak’s hand on the knob of the fire door—”
“That would have been close,” John Jackman said.
“Whatever our friend heard, it was enough. Enough to interrupt the blow. Enough to leave Carmencita Boaz alive. And then what?”
“What?”
“Well, John, there would hardly be time for our friend to go tearing off to throw the tire iron in the river, especially since our friend is not a resident of Philadelphia and doesn’t know the city well. Our friend might, but there’s no reason to suppose it’s so. And with Carmencita found, of course, we’re in the middle of an emergency.”
“So?”
“So our friend’s services are going to be required. Have you noticed that everyone we’ve met who works on The Lotte Goldman Show carries beepers?”
“Yeah,” Jackman said. “Even the chauffeurs carry beepers.”
“People carry beepers when they’re expected to be on call. Which our friend is. Which means there is no time for our friend to go chasing around the city, getting rid of the murder weapon.”
“So where is it?”
“In the trunk of one of the limousines, I would expect. Tire irons go in trunks. The limousines are parked right downstairs where anybody can get at them. I’ll bet half a dozen people have keys to the trunks, too. DeAnna Kroll. Sarah Meyer.”
“Why Sarah Meyer?”
“Because secretaries are always being asked to carry things. Of course, this is the third murder. If our friend didn’t start out with a set or keys to those limousines, by now—”
“Do you know who ‘our friend’ is?” John Jackman demanded. “Do you have a name?”
“I know who it must be,” Gregor said. “That is, if one last speculation of mine turns out to be right. Then there’s only one person it could be.”
“Good. Why don’t you give me a name?”
“Why don’t you send somebody to find that tire iron? It won’t be much use to you. It won’t have any fingerprints on it. Our friend is not a fool. But it would be good to have.”
“Gregor—”
“Then we’ll go to the hospital and talk to Itzaak Blechmann,” Gregor said. “There are a few things he may know that nobody else would. Then we’ll figure out what to do. We’re going to have to do something. We can’t just wait for Carmencita Boaz to open her eyes. She may not have the information we need. And once our friend realizes she isn’t going to die, our friend may bolt.”