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seemed to Lee a real option. Kate turned and walked out of the room, looked
about for an excuse, saw the coffee machine, poured herself a second cup,
although she hadn't drunk her first yet, and took it back into the living
room.
"Any idea what it would cost?" she said evenly.
"It would still be a lot, several thousand dollars, but there's an
extended-payment program, and they buy it back when you're finished with it. I
don't really mind going up and down on my butt. Actually, it's good exercise,
but it is slow. I just thought it would save you and Jon a few hundred trips a
week up and down, fetching things for me."
Anything that could increase Lee's sense of independence was to be snatched
at, and Kate's face was firmly in line when Lee looked up, a paper in her
hand.
"Anyway, it's something to think about. Here's that printout. D. Yamaguchi,
Stanford, and E. Whitlaw you're right, it is Whitlaw Nottingham, England. You
said she's here?"
"Dean Gardner thought she was visiting friends in the city.
"The titles of her articles and the one book look like what you need. I
should have some of them Monday or Tuesday, if you want to look through them
before you see her."
"Good idea. If she calls and I'm not here, see if you can get a real phone
number or an address from her. Want another coffee?"
"No, this is fine. Could you stick that tape into the machine for me?"
Kate obediently fed the indicated videotape into the mouth of the player,
turned on the television, and, while she was waiting for the sound to come up,
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looked at the box:ThePirates of Penzance.
"Another heavy intellectual evening, I see," she said, grinned at Lee's
embarrassment, and went off to do the dishes. Lee thought Gilbert and Sullivan
hilarious,- Kate would have preferred the Saturday-morning cartoons.
After a while, she heard Jon's voice above those of the cavorting sailors. A
minute later, he came into the kitchen, dressed in his mauve velour dressing
gown, and took two glasses and a squat bottle out of the drinks cupboard.
"We really must have a crystal decanter," he complained, pouring out a thick
red-brown liquid. "Would you like a glass?"
"What is it?"
"Port, my dear. I thought it might be fun to reintroduce gout as a
fashionable disease."
"No thanks. Say, Jon? Just now Lee said something about installing a lift on
the stairs. Do you know anything about that?"
"Yes, well, I thought it might not be a bad idea."
"I agree. I suggested it three or four months ago and she nearly bit my head
off."
"Did she? Well, times change. I admit I did bitch a small bitch, a gentle
bitch about the state of my knees on those stairs. And, er, I also pointed out
that she could probably deduct the depreciated cost of it as a business
expense, now she's working again." Jon studied his fingernails for a moment
and then looked up through his eyelashes at her difficult to do, as he was
four inches taller than she. Kate began reluctantly to grin, shaking her head.
"By God, you're a sly one. And she fell for it. I'd never have believed it."
He laughed and whisked the glasses off the counter. "Jon?" He turned in the
doorway. "Good work. Thanks." He nodded, then went to join Lee in front of the
television.
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An hour later, Linda Ronstadt was bouncing around a moonlit garden in her
nightie, flirting with her pirate, when the phone rang. Kate picked it up in
the kitchen, where she had retreated with a stack of unread newspapers.
"Martinelli."
"This is Professor Eve Whitlaw, returning your call." The voice was low,
calm, and English.
"Yes, Dr. Whitlaw, thank you for phoning. I am the "
"Is that pirates?"
"Sorry?"
'The music you're listening to. It is, yes. Not perhaps their best, but it
has a few delicious moments. You were saying."
"Er, yes. I am Inspector Kate Martinelli of the San Francisco Police
Department. We are investigating a murder that occurred recently in Golden
Gate Park. The reason I am calling you is that one of the persons involved
refers to himself as a 'fool,' and I was told by the dean of the Church
Divinity School of the Pacific over in Berkeley that you might be able to tell
me exactly what this man means when he uses that description." By the time
Kate reached the end of this convoluted request, she was feeling something of
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