Suicide Season by Rex Burns

that came from Haas’s desk.”
    “The one with the man’s voice?”
    “The same. It’s a direct line to one of the executive offices for the Aegis Group. My contact wouldn’t tell me who, because he didn’t have a directory for all the internal numbers on that prefix. But it’s definitely an Aegis number.”

CHAPTER 7
    B UNCH EYED MY expression. “You don’t seem very happy about it, my man. This is what you literate types call a break in the case.”
    “Yeah, it is. But it still doesn’t prove anything.”
    “Come on, Dev—this is an unlisted number. It’s a private pipeline to the opposition. And it was in that envelope full of crap that came out of his damned desk.” The big man peered at me. “Or do you mean you don’t want it to prove anything?”
    That was it. I had been thinking of Haas and Carrie Busey and the effect of their affair—if she did not already know of it—on Margaret. And now that little scrap of paper that had been buried in Haas’s personal effects threatened to rake all that garbage and more to the surface again.
    “She asked for it, Dev. She asked for the information because she wanted to be sure. And the reason she wanted to be sure was because she had her doubts. We both know that.”
    True enough. People often hired p.i.’s to find the evidence that would deny what, in their hearts, they suspected. And then were disappointed when the evidence confirmed their suspicions. I sighed and agreed that the telephone number meant a lot, and most of it bad. “But it’s still not conclusive. And we don’t know whose office number it is, do we?”
    “No, we don’t. And it could have been planted, too. By his secretary, who swears he didn’t do it. Or by Bartlett, who can’t find his ass with both hands. Or by Mrs. Haas, who’s spending all that money so we can prove hubby innocent.”
    “Or by the same man who called McAllister about Haas. Spare me the sarcasm, Bunch. The fact is, it isn’t enough.”
    He grunted. “Yeah—that phone call. But damn it, Dev, Haas committed suicide. And that phone call, this number, they all explain why he did. As far as I’m concerned, this is proof. And I think it’s up to Mrs. Haas to decide if she wants something more. You’ve got this thing for damsels in distress and now you’ve found one. But remember, it’s her money.”
    Bunch was right about that. This might be all the evidence that Margaret needed, and it wouldn’t do to stretch out the case—and its expenses—without her approval. I sighed again and reached for the telephone.
    Margaret answered this time, and she seemed genuinely pleased to hear my voice. And I was glad to talk about something else for a few moments. But after the how-are-yous and the what-have-you-been-doings, there was no easy way. “We found some evidence that Austin was in close touch with the Aegis Group, Margaret.”
    “What evidence?”
    “An unlisted telephone number. It’s a direct line to one of the office telephones at Aegis. It was in Austin’s desk—in the envelope you gave me.”
    “My God … “
    “It’s not conclusive, and there’s no indication that he ever used the number. But it was there.”
    “I see. I think I see … It’s just so hard to comprehend—I’ve tried to consider the possibility, of course. But it never seemed real before.” The telephone line stayed open and silent. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell our son.”
    “There’s no need to tell him anything. Not until he asks, and not until he can understand.”
    “How can he understand? Even I can’t understand.” In the background, a distant squawk of children’s voices rose to an excited squabble and then died away as a door slammed. “Do you know anything about this person? The one whose telephone it is?”
    “No. It’s an office at Aegis. I didn’t know if you wanted to go any further with this.”
    “I want to know why he did it.”
    “Does that make any difference?”
    “It