The Washington Lawyer by Allan Topol Page B

silence, staring at her sister’s body. At Vanessa’s calm, still face, resting and at peace. In contrast, Allison was boiling with rage. Who did this to you, Vanessa? I swear to you he’ll pay for it.
    She asked Bruce, “What came with her body?”
    â€œWallet. Passport. Airplane receipt. Jewelry. I gave them to your mother.”
    â€œCell phone?”
    â€œNegative.”
    Allison planned to get them back at the house. She should have them.
    â€œOh, and a shipping ticket filled out by someone in Anguilla.”
    â€œMay I see it?”
    â€œSure.”
    Bruce went into his office and returned with a wrinkled piece of beige paper. Allison studied it. “Har Stevens, Police Commissioner” was the signature. The man she’d spoken with. Under his signature was a phone number. She memorized it. As soon as Bruce left, she punched the number.
    â€œHar Stevens here.”
    The voice and British accent, she remembered. “Mr. Stevens, this is Allison Boyd. We spoke yesterday.”
    â€œOf course. Vanessa Boyd’s sister.”
    â€œI’m afraid I wasn’t very coherent.”
    â€œUnder the circumstances, it’s only natural.”
    â€œNow I’m calling to clarify some matters.”
    â€œUnfortunately, I don’t have any further information.”
    â€œI want to know what happened to my sister in Anguilla.”
    â€œMiss Boyd. I’m very sorry for your loss. From our investigation, we learned that your sister came to Anguilla by herself. She was staying at the Corinthian Hotel. I spoke to the hotel manager, who said she went swimming alone at night. Her body washed up on the beach in front of the hotel. Our first rate medical examiner concluded she drowned.”
    â€œAre you certain she wasn’t with a man?”
    â€œI did question the manager of the hotel on that myself.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?”
    â€œJohn Burt. But I’ve already told you what he knows.”
    â€œI understand that.”
    Allison realized she wouldn’t get anything else from Stevens. She hung up the phone.
    Damn it, she thought. If only she’d pressed Vanessa in their last talk about her plans for the weekend, she’d know something.
    She was convinced Vanessa had gone with an older, powerful man. And he didn’t want his name linked with her. So he left her dead body on the beach and ran. Protecting his marriage? His career? Both?
    Allison recalled another time that Vanessa’s affair with an older, powerful man ended in disaster. She had told Allison she was in Rome dating one of the wealthiest and most important men in the country. Then two days later, Allison received a call from the police in Rome, telling her that Vanessa, strung out on drugs and drunk, had been arrested for being nude frolicking in the Trevi Fountain with a man who had run away and wasn’t identified.
    Allison had immediately flown to Rome. She persuaded the police to release her sister, who was well known from the covers of fashion magazines, on the condition that Allison immediately take Vanessa to a clinic in Northern Italy for rehab, and she would have to remain there for a month. Allison readily agreed.
    When Allison returned a month later, she took Vanessa for a week to Stresa. During that week, Vanessa poured out the full extent of her unhappiness to Allison. “Mother really pushed me into modeling from the time I was five. Sure, I thought it would be a glamorous life when she arranged for me to leave our house in Ohio and go to New York with the Premier Modeling Agency. And it was for a while. I should have quit years ago, but I was afraid of facing her. To overcome my misery, I started doing drugs, drinking far too much, and sleeping with men who were no good.”
    Allison developed the blueprint for Vanessa’s new life. Quit modeling, go back to school at NYU, and get a degree. Vanessa wasn’t a straight-A student like Allison,