hundred feet below interspersed with the shriek from a circling bird.
“Come in. The door is open.”
It’s Brigid’s voice. He prefers that she open the door, but there’s no further sound so he pushes forward and the wood slides silently open. He moves into the house and stands a few feet from the door. Everything is in white; the walls, furniture, and rugs all bring a dazzling starkness that competes favorably with the still visibly robust sunlight.
“Hello,” he calls out into the silence. He waits. It’s probably no more than thirty seconds, yet seems longer, until he hears a rustle of movement to the side. He turns to the right barely in time to catch a flash of a minidress with pink-and-white polka dots.
“What do you think?” she says and spins onto a short pirouette.
Wisdom draws in his breath. She is no longer Brigid, but has transformed herself into Heidi. He feels he’s seeing a ghost. She has used the photo in the police files to copy her sister’s look. The dressis tight and cut low over her breasts. He hasn’t a clue how she managed to get so similar a dress in such a short a time. She wears hoop earrings and a hint of color seems to swell her lips. There is barely a touch of other makeup. She stands scarcely five feet away and he realizes this is what Heidi’s boyfriend, the doctor, and obviously others have seen; a voluptuous woman with a dark riveting stare that has the capacity to instantly arouse.
That’s the moment when he remembers the name of the old film he’d thought about over the past weeks. It was called Laura. The protagonist is a cop investigating the murder of a woman whose face had been obliterated by a shotgun blast. The cop sits in the dead woman’s apartment trying to make sense of her death while a portrait of the slain woman, which hangs in the room, becomes a visible companion. The woman is beautiful and the cop can’t help but stare wistfully at the waste her death has brought, while he imagines what it might have been like to know her. Then the door opens and the woman appears, still alive and even more attractive than the painted image. Another woman had been killed by accident and the cop is suddenly confronted with the live object of his fantasies.
This is how Wisdom feels. He is looking at Brigid, but seeing Heidi. Seeing her as all the others may have seen her, and in a moment as clear as fall air, he’s pretty sure he knows why she’s asked him here and what this is all about.
Two days later Chief Ferris can only promise Wisdom a short meeting, but it turns out he miscalculates. The New York Times is doing one of its endless annual pieces on life in the Hamptons, or as one reporter had asked the previous year, “Other than DWIs, do you get any serious crimes here after Labor Day?” But this interview will have to wait. That morning’s half-finished cappuccino cup rests on the corner of the gray steel desk dangerously close to Wisdom’s loafers. He checks his watch, swings his legs off the desk, and grunts silentlyat the minor effort. He gathers the Heidi file in one hand, snatches the cappuccino in the other, and moves quickly down the corridor toward the chief’s office.
Wisdom takes nearly ten minutes to tell his story and then does it again when they are joined by the town attorney, and then for a third time when Sergeant Bennett arrives. They discuss whether it’s still too early to call in County’s major-crimes people. In the end, they compromise on the plan to have Bennett call his counterpart at County and fill him in on where they stand as of as now. Then they go round and round regarding the strategy Wisdom has presented and its pitfalls, particularly entrapment.
“It’s all her idea. Brigid’s,” he explains. “But I think it’s worth trying. She feels that since she looks so much like her sister, if she appears suddenly in front of any possible suspects, it might trigger a shock that could produce some worthwhile reaction. We
“Come in. The door is open.”
It’s Brigid’s voice. He prefers that she open the door, but there’s no further sound so he pushes forward and the wood slides silently open. He moves into the house and stands a few feet from the door. Everything is in white; the walls, furniture, and rugs all bring a dazzling starkness that competes favorably with the still visibly robust sunlight.
“Hello,” he calls out into the silence. He waits. It’s probably no more than thirty seconds, yet seems longer, until he hears a rustle of movement to the side. He turns to the right barely in time to catch a flash of a minidress with pink-and-white polka dots.
“What do you think?” she says and spins onto a short pirouette.
Wisdom draws in his breath. She is no longer Brigid, but has transformed herself into Heidi. He feels he’s seeing a ghost. She has used the photo in the police files to copy her sister’s look. The dressis tight and cut low over her breasts. He hasn’t a clue how she managed to get so similar a dress in such a short a time. She wears hoop earrings and a hint of color seems to swell her lips. There is barely a touch of other makeup. She stands scarcely five feet away and he realizes this is what Heidi’s boyfriend, the doctor, and obviously others have seen; a voluptuous woman with a dark riveting stare that has the capacity to instantly arouse.
That’s the moment when he remembers the name of the old film he’d thought about over the past weeks. It was called Laura. The protagonist is a cop investigating the murder of a woman whose face had been obliterated by a shotgun blast. The cop sits in the dead woman’s apartment trying to make sense of her death while a portrait of the slain woman, which hangs in the room, becomes a visible companion. The woman is beautiful and the cop can’t help but stare wistfully at the waste her death has brought, while he imagines what it might have been like to know her. Then the door opens and the woman appears, still alive and even more attractive than the painted image. Another woman had been killed by accident and the cop is suddenly confronted with the live object of his fantasies.
This is how Wisdom feels. He is looking at Brigid, but seeing Heidi. Seeing her as all the others may have seen her, and in a moment as clear as fall air, he’s pretty sure he knows why she’s asked him here and what this is all about.
Two days later Chief Ferris can only promise Wisdom a short meeting, but it turns out he miscalculates. The New York Times is doing one of its endless annual pieces on life in the Hamptons, or as one reporter had asked the previous year, “Other than DWIs, do you get any serious crimes here after Labor Day?” But this interview will have to wait. That morning’s half-finished cappuccino cup rests on the corner of the gray steel desk dangerously close to Wisdom’s loafers. He checks his watch, swings his legs off the desk, and grunts silentlyat the minor effort. He gathers the Heidi file in one hand, snatches the cappuccino in the other, and moves quickly down the corridor toward the chief’s office.
Wisdom takes nearly ten minutes to tell his story and then does it again when they are joined by the town attorney, and then for a third time when Sergeant Bennett arrives. They discuss whether it’s still too early to call in County’s major-crimes people. In the end, they compromise on the plan to have Bennett call his counterpart at County and fill him in on where they stand as of as now. Then they go round and round regarding the strategy Wisdom has presented and its pitfalls, particularly entrapment.
“It’s all her idea. Brigid’s,” he explains. “But I think it’s worth trying. She feels that since she looks so much like her sister, if she appears suddenly in front of any possible suspects, it might trigger a shock that could produce some worthwhile reaction. We
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