called and said, 'Alice, I'll be needing a van tomorrow.' "
"Why didn't he discuss his work?" said Milo.
"Ethics, Detective," Zoghbie said with exaggerated patience. "Patient confidentiality. He was a doctor."
The phone rang, distant as the clock chime.
"Better get that," she said, standing. "Could be the press."
"They've been in touch?"
"No, but they might be, once they find out I'm back."
"How would they know that, ma'am?"
"Please," she said. "Don't be naïve. They have their ways." She dance-walked through the dining room and out of sight.
Milo rubbed his face and turned to me. "Think Mate was boffing her?"
"She did take the time to mention that their relationship was social but not sexual. Because we were obviously going to ask. So maybe."
Alice Zoghbie returned, looking grim.
"The press?" said Milo.
"A nuisance call— my accountant. The IRS wants to audit me— big surprise, huh? I've got to go gather my tax records, so if there's nothing else . . ." She pointed to the door.
We stood.
"You climb mountains for fun?" said Milo.
"I hike, Detective. Long-distance walks on the lower slopes, no pitons or any of that stuff." She gave Milo's gut a long appraisal. "Stop moving and you might as well die."
That reminded me of something Richard Doss had told me six months ago:
I'll rest when I'm dead.
Milo said, "Did Dr. Mate stay active?"
"Mentally, only. Never could get him to exercise. But what does that have to do with—"
"So you have no idea who Dr. Mate was going to help the weekend he died?"
"No. I told you, we never discussed patient issues."
"The reason I'm asking is—"
"You think a traveler killed him? That's absurd."
"Why, ma'am?"
"These are sick people we're talking about, Detective. Weak people, quadriplegics, Lou Gehrig's disease, terminal cancer. How could they have the strength? And why would they? Now, please."
Her foot tapped. She looked jumpy. I supposed an audit could do that to you.
"Just a few more details," said Milo. "Why'd you choose the Avis in Tarzana? Far from here and from Dr. Mate's place."
"That was the point , Detective."
"What was?"
"Covering our tracks. Just in case someone got suspicious and refused to rent to us. That's also why I chose Avis. We alternated. Last time was Hertz; before that, Budget."
She hurried to the door, opened it, stood tapping her foot. "Forget about it being a traveler. None of Eldon's people would hurt him. Most of the time they required help just to get over to the travel site—"
"Help from who?"
Long silence. She smiled, folded her arms. "No. We're not going there."
"Other people have been involved?" said Milo. "Dr. Mate had assistants?"
"Unh-unh, no way. Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to, because I don't know. Didn't want to know."
"Because Dr. Mate never discussed clinical details with you."
"Now please leave."
"Let's say Dr. Mate did have confederates—"
"Say whatever you please."
"What makes you so sure one of them couldn't have turned on him?"
"Because why would they?" She laughed. Harshly. Too loudly. "I can't get you to see: Eldon was brilliant. He wouldn't have trusted just anyone." She put a foot out onto her front porch, jabbed a manicured fingernail. "Look. For. A. Fanatic."
"What about a fanatic passing himself off as a confederate?"
"Oh please." Another loud laugh. Zoghbie's hands flew upward, fingers fluttering. She dropped them quickly. A series of clumsy movements, at odds with the dancer's grace. "I can't answer any more stupid questions! This is a very hard time for me!"
The tears returned. No more symmetrical trickle. A gush.
This time she wiped them hastily.
She slammed the door behind us.
8
BACK IN THE unmarked, Milo looked up at the vanilla cottage. "What a harpy."
"Her attitude changed after that
"Why didn't he discuss his work?" said Milo.
"Ethics, Detective," Zoghbie said with exaggerated patience. "Patient confidentiality. He was a doctor."
The phone rang, distant as the clock chime.
"Better get that," she said, standing. "Could be the press."
"They've been in touch?"
"No, but they might be, once they find out I'm back."
"How would they know that, ma'am?"
"Please," she said. "Don't be naïve. They have their ways." She dance-walked through the dining room and out of sight.
Milo rubbed his face and turned to me. "Think Mate was boffing her?"
"She did take the time to mention that their relationship was social but not sexual. Because we were obviously going to ask. So maybe."
Alice Zoghbie returned, looking grim.
"The press?" said Milo.
"A nuisance call— my accountant. The IRS wants to audit me— big surprise, huh? I've got to go gather my tax records, so if there's nothing else . . ." She pointed to the door.
We stood.
"You climb mountains for fun?" said Milo.
"I hike, Detective. Long-distance walks on the lower slopes, no pitons or any of that stuff." She gave Milo's gut a long appraisal. "Stop moving and you might as well die."
That reminded me of something Richard Doss had told me six months ago:
I'll rest when I'm dead.
Milo said, "Did Dr. Mate stay active?"
"Mentally, only. Never could get him to exercise. But what does that have to do with—"
"So you have no idea who Dr. Mate was going to help the weekend he died?"
"No. I told you, we never discussed patient issues."
"The reason I'm asking is—"
"You think a traveler killed him? That's absurd."
"Why, ma'am?"
"These are sick people we're talking about, Detective. Weak people, quadriplegics, Lou Gehrig's disease, terminal cancer. How could they have the strength? And why would they? Now, please."
Her foot tapped. She looked jumpy. I supposed an audit could do that to you.
"Just a few more details," said Milo. "Why'd you choose the Avis in Tarzana? Far from here and from Dr. Mate's place."
"That was the point , Detective."
"What was?"
"Covering our tracks. Just in case someone got suspicious and refused to rent to us. That's also why I chose Avis. We alternated. Last time was Hertz; before that, Budget."
She hurried to the door, opened it, stood tapping her foot. "Forget about it being a traveler. None of Eldon's people would hurt him. Most of the time they required help just to get over to the travel site—"
"Help from who?"
Long silence. She smiled, folded her arms. "No. We're not going there."
"Other people have been involved?" said Milo. "Dr. Mate had assistants?"
"Unh-unh, no way. Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to, because I don't know. Didn't want to know."
"Because Dr. Mate never discussed clinical details with you."
"Now please leave."
"Let's say Dr. Mate did have confederates—"
"Say whatever you please."
"What makes you so sure one of them couldn't have turned on him?"
"Because why would they?" She laughed. Harshly. Too loudly. "I can't get you to see: Eldon was brilliant. He wouldn't have trusted just anyone." She put a foot out onto her front porch, jabbed a manicured fingernail. "Look. For. A. Fanatic."
"What about a fanatic passing himself off as a confederate?"
"Oh please." Another loud laugh. Zoghbie's hands flew upward, fingers fluttering. She dropped them quickly. A series of clumsy movements, at odds with the dancer's grace. "I can't answer any more stupid questions! This is a very hard time for me!"
The tears returned. No more symmetrical trickle. A gush.
This time she wiped them hastily.
She slammed the door behind us.
8
BACK IN THE unmarked, Milo looked up at the vanilla cottage. "What a harpy."
"Her attitude changed after that
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