"Give me some example of his unhappiness."

"I can't. It was just the odd comment, the raised eyebrow when Arrington was mentioned. He did love Peter, though; I've never seen a man love a child so much."

"Anything more specific?"

"No, certainly nothing I could testify to under oath."

Stone relaxed a little inside; he hadn't realized he had become so tense. "Well, I hope you'll keep your feelings to yourself. If you think of anything specific you can tell me, I want to hear about it, though."

"Of course."

Stone glanced at his watch. "Let's get started. Will you get me Dr. James Judson at the Judson Clinic?"

Betty placed the call from the conference table phone, then left the room and closed the door.

"Good morning, Jim, it's Stone Barrington."

"Good morning, Stone."

"How's your patient this morning?"

"She's very well, I think. I believe she's about ready to go home."

"Not just yet," Stone said. "She's going to have to talk to the police, and I'd like her to do it from a hospital bed."

"I understand. When do you want them to see her?"

"Today, if you think it's all right."

"I think it should be. She's mentioned that she expects them to come, so we may as well get it over with. I'd like to be with her when they question her, though."

"Of course, and I will be, too. How about early afternoon?"

"All right; I'll prepare her."

"I'll do some preparation, too, before they arrive. I'll let you know the exact time, after I've talked to them."

"I'll wait to hear from you, before I tell Arrington."

"I'm working from Mr. Calders office at the studio, should you need to reach me." Stone gave him the number, then hung up. He found the intercom and buzzed Betty.

"Yes, Stone?"

"Now get me Detective Sam Durkee at the Brentwood LAPD station.

After a short wait, Betty buzzed him, and he picked up the phone. "Detective Durkee?"

"That's right."

"My name is Stone Barrington; I'm handling the affairs of Mrs. Vance Calder."

"I know your name from Rick Grant," Durkee said. "Rick says you're an ex-homicide detective."

"That's right; NYPD."

"Then you'll understand what we have to do."

"Of course. I've just spoken to Mrs. Calder's doctor, and he says you can interview her this afternoon. How about two o'clock at the Judson Clinic?"

"That's good for me; I'll bring my partner, Ted Bryant."

"You have to understand her condition," Stone said. "She's been very badly shaken up, and there are some big gaps in her memory."

"Oh? How big?"

"When I spoke with her yesterday, the last thing she could remember was a conversation with her gardener eight days before the homicide. I've confirmed the date with her butler."

"So, basically, when we question her, she's going to say she remembers nothing?"

"Her doctor says she may recover some of her memories, but I can't promise you anything. For a while, she didn't remember being married to Calder, but she's gotten past that, so she may remember even more.

I can tell you that she has no hesitation about talking to you; she wants her husbands murderer caught and prosecuted."

"Well, we'll certainly try to make that wish come true," Durkee said.

"There have to be some ground rules: Both her doctor and I will be present at the interview, and if either of us, for any reason, feels she shouldn't continue, we'll stop it."

"Understood," Durkee said dryly. "See you at two o'clock."

Stone hung up and began to think about this interview. It was crucial, he knew, for Arrington to convince them she was innocent. If she couldn't do that, her life was going to change even more dramatically than it already had.

STONE COULD HAVE SPOTTED the two men as detectives in any city in the United States. They were both middle-aged, dressed in middling suits that revealed bulges under the left arm to anyone looking for them. Sam Durkee was at least six-four and beefy in build; Stone made him as an ex-athlete. Ted Bryant was shorter, bald and pudgy. He didn't expect either of them to be stupid, and his plan was to be as cooperative as humanly possible, without handing them his client on a platter.

He shook their hands, then led them upstairs to Arrington's room. She was sitting up in bed wearing cotton pajamas; Dr. Judson was at her bedside. Stone made the introductions, and everybody pulled up a chair.

Durkee took the lead. "Mrs. Calder," he said, "first, I want to offer the department's condolences on your loss."

"Thank you," Arrington said, managing a wan smile.

"I hope you understand that there are questions we must ask, if we're to apprehend your husbands killer; I know this won't be pleasant, but we'll keep it as short as we can, and we'd like the fullest answers you can give us."

"I'll do my best," Arrington replied.

"What do you recall about the evening your husband was shot?"

"Absolutely nothing, I'm afraid. I remember going to the hairdresser's the day before, the Friday, but I don't remember driving home, or anything after that, until I woke up here."

A Friday memory was progress, Stone thought.

"Are you beginning to pick up pieces of your memory?" Bryant asked.

"It seems so," she said. "Every day, I remember a little more."

"Are you aware that your husband owned a gun?"

"He told me so, but I never saw it."

"Was he the sort of man who would have used a gun to defend his home?"

"He certainly was; I'm sure that's why he owned it."

"Do you know where he kept the gun?"

"No."

Stone spoke up. "The buder told me that Mr. Calder kept a nine millimeter pistol in the same safe where he kept his jewelry."

"Thank you," Durkee replied. "Mrs. Calder, how would you characterize your marriage?"

"As a very happy one," Arrington replied.

"Did you and your husband ever quarrel?"

"Of course." She smiled a litde. "But our quarrels were almost always good-humored. You might call them mock quarrels. We argued about lots of things, but always with respect and affection."

"You say your quarrels were 'almost' always good-humored. Did they ever become violent?"

"You mean, did Vance ever hit me? Certainly not."

"Did you ever hit him?"

She looked down. "I can remember slapping him, once and only once. He'd said something that offended me."

"What did he do when you slapped him?"

"He apologized, and it never happened again. My husband was a gendeman in every possible sense of the word."

"When you argued, what did you argue about?"

"He would give me a hard time, sometimes, about how much shopping I did. Vance had a tailor, a shirtmaker, and a bootmaker; he ordered his clothes from swatches, so shopping was very simple for him. I think it both amused and horrified him how to learn how women shop. He could never understand why I would buy things, then take them back the next day."

"Any other subjects you argued about?"

"Sometimes wed disagree on child rearing. Vance believed strongly in corporal punishment, and I didn't. Hed been brought up that way by his parents, and in English schools, and he thought if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for his son."

"Did he use corporal punishment often with your child?"

"Rarely, and then only a palm applied to the bottom."

"And you disagreed with that?"

"Yes. I was never struck, as a child, and I didn't want Peter to be."

"What else did you disagree about?"

She shrugged. "I can't think of anything else specifically."

"What about women?"

"There were one or two of my friends he didn't like much, but he tolerated them for my sake."

"That's not what I mean," Durkee said. "Are you aware that your husband had a reputation for sleeping with his leading ladies?"