Glass Houses(15)

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Gregor knew that Bennis would, in-deed, expect him to know what she wanted him to do, and that she had left hints, in the shape of her clothes still hanging in his closet and her makeup still clogging all the shelves in his medicine cabinet. But that wasn’t enough, was it? At least, it shouldn’t be. People had to talk to each other. People had to tell each other things. You couldn’t just set things up so that your lover would feel too guilty to do anything much about another woman while you were gone and leave the rest of it for him to sort out for himself.

It was useless. Try as he would, Gregor could never make himself be angry at Bennis. The best he could manage was worried, as in worried about her life and health. Off and on over the long weeks it had occurred to him that there might be something seriously wrong. She could have cancer. She could be having a breakdown. Then he would get impatient. She was Bennis, and Bennis did these things.

He flipped open the cell phone and tapped in Alison’s office number. He refused to call it “dialing,” since you didn’t dial anything on a keypad. She picked up on the other end, and he heard her say, “Alison Standish here.”

“Gregor Demarkian here,” he said.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Well,” Alison said, “I’ve been expecting you to call. I’ve been expecting it all morning.”

Gregor frowned. “Was I supposed to? Had we made an agreement I’ve forgotten? I’m sorry.”

“No,” Alison said. “We hadn’t made an agreement. It’s just that, under the circumstances . . . ”

“Under what circumstances?”

There was another long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Alison said, “Where are you? Right this minute?”

“I’m in a taxicab near the Liberty Bell. In traffic. It looks like it’s going to let up in a minute or two, but right now it’s a mess.”

“Have you been in a taxi all morning?”

“I’ve been in a police station all morning,” Gregor said. “That’s sort of half of what I was calling you about. I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but the police have arrested a man they think is the Plate Glass Killer. Or at least they say they think he’s the Plate Glass Killer. A friend of mine is handling the defense, and he needs a psychologist. I was thinking of that friend of yours we had dinner with the other night, the one who wrote a book about the psychology of homelessness.”

“The psychology of long-term homelessness,” Alison said. She sounded distracted.

“That’s the one. Although, to tell you the truth, Henry Tyder isn’t homeless. He only lives out on the streets because he gets into conflicts with his sisters, who don’t throw him out of the house, only yell at him. At any rate, I’m fairly sure he’s not competent to stand trial; and even if he is, he wasn’t competent to make a confession without counsel present, but Russ is going to need a lot of help. Can we get together with him again?”

“Gregor,” Alison said, “you’ve been in a police station all morning?”

“Except for breakfast at the Ararat.”

“You haven’t seen the news? Any of it? You didn’t watch any of the local morning programs?”

“I never watch any of the local morning programs. They make my head ache.”

“All right,” Alison said.

“Is there something wrong?” Gregor asked her. “Did I stand you up and forget about it? I’m sorry if I’ve been absentminded lately—”

“No,” Alison said. “No, it’s all right. Anyway, his name is Lionel Redstone, and of course we can get together with him. I think he’d probably be very interested and flattered to be asked.”

“Make it dinner tonight if he’s free,” Gregor said. “That way I won’t waste any time and I’ll have a chance to see you. Unless you’re busy tonight.”

“No,” Alison said, “I’m not busy tonight, except with correcting papers, and that can wait. Only, Gregor—”

“What?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Look, I’ve got to go over my lecture notes for class. And Jig wants to take me to lunch to apologize, you know, for all that stuff last month. I’ll see you tonight. If, you know, you don’t find something else has come up.”

“Nothing else is going to come up,” Gregor said. “I’m not on staff anywhere anymore. My time is my own, thank God. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

“Meet me at Ascorda Mariscos at eight. I’ll bring Lionel with me if he’s available; and if not, I’ll call you first.”