The Prodigal Son(86)
“Paper pusher,” said Carmine, going to the bar to pour himself a weak bourbon-and-soda, no ice.
His appearance had put a scowl on His Honor’s face. “Oh, it’s you, is it? I’m only here to be talked into dubious warrants.” Then he undid the impression of enmity this implied by patting a chair near him and smiling. “Sit here, Carmine. Dotty wants to know how Desdemona’s doing.”
“She’s well, Judge. Her cooking’s paradise. Before Prunella Balducci goes to L.A., I’ll give the kids to her for a few days and all of you can come to dinner. I know of no other way to prove my contention.”
“She needs days to prepare a meal?” His Honor asked.
“Sure. She makes one sauce that takes three days.”
“Let’s get the warrants out of the way, then we can all enjoy the drinks,” said Silvestri.
“What do you need, Carmine?” asked Judge Thwaites.
“A warrant for a full search of Max Tunbull’s house and business premises. That should include any part of the house given, deeded or otherwise to any other person, including Uda Savovich.”
The Judge writhed. “Carmine, you know I abominate searches of a man’s private kingdom — his home. Fingers poking through his wife’s underwear — reading his private papers — and yes, I know all the arguments you intend to give me, how your searches are always legitimate and almost always yield evidence. So I’ll save time and grant the warrant. But strictly for evidence of your tetrodotoxin case. If you discover evidence that Tunbull is planning to blow up County Services or go on a shooting spree the next time the Holloman Huskies play at home, you may not act on it. Is that understood?”
As they went through this every time, Carmine nodded. “Yes, sir, it’s fully understood. I think County Services and the Holloman Huskies are safe.”
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15, 1969
For once Carmine caught Davina Tunbull off balance; when he and Abe Goldberg arrived with Donny and Tony to serve the warrant, Max was at the printery and Davina not long dressed.
“I suggest that you and Miss Savovich take the baby and join your husband at his place of work,” Carmine said. “From this moment on I can’t let you be inside this house without a member of the police force to watch you. It’s more sensible to leave, ma’am.”
Davina was pallid, distressed; Uda simply stood, listened.
“You called Uda by my maiden name,” Davina said.
“She is your sister, we know that,” said Abe.
“I get baby,” Uda said, accent at its worst. “Vina, put on coat and boots.”
“You will plant evidence!” Davina cried. “No one is here to watch you, you will plant evidence!”
“No, ma’am, we won’t do that,” Abe said, and to Donny, “Go with Miss Savovich, please.”
It took half an hour to get the women out of the house, but finally it was done. All four of them had seen the baby, and made their own conclusions. A calm child, as happy with Uda as he was with Davina; both women doted on him. Far handsomer than Jim Hunter had been as a baby, they were sure, therefore not very like him except for the eyes.
“We search Uda’s premises first,” Carmine said. “If we find anything there, we’ll decide what else to do.”
The house had owned a roomy attic that had been converted to a proper apartment for Uda. Its windows were dormered and contained cushioned seats, the carpet throughout was finest wool, and the furniture expensive. Uda liked less adventurous color schemes than her showy sister: green seemed to be her favorite hue, and was present everywhere, including a green-tiled bathroom that held a large shower stall as well as a full-sized tub. She had a living room that looked across the roof of Dr. Markoff’s residence toward the basaltic bluff of North Rock — a real picture in the fall, thought Abe, as it was a forest view. A kitchenette was clearly never used save to make coffee in the Turkish manner — half an inch of sludge in the bottom of a tiny cup.
The most interesting room was Uda’s workplace. One wall held books in German, French and Italian as well as in English. Uda was highly literate. The titles varied enormously, but among them were volumes on poison, British murder trials, psychology, brainwashing, genetics, twins. Uda had a sewing table with a professional sewing machine let into it; the surface was carefully arranged with piles of fabrics and partially finished dresses, a number of stunning hats, even silk underwear upon which Uda was embroidering tiny rosebuds. Instead of a work basket Uda preferred a tradesman’s tool box that opened out in a series of stepped shelves, some divided up, some intact. On another table were inks, drawing pens, various art papers, gouache paints, brushes, sketching pads and an IBM golfball typewriter.