Page 86 of Old Money
He shakes his head. “Alice,” he says, a smile spreading on his slightly swollen lips. “I found something.”
“On the drive? There’s nothing about Alex in the—”
“Not Alex.” Jamie shakes his head. “Brody. It’s Brody’s interview.”
Jamie turns the laptop toward me. I skim the page—as bland as I remember it.
“Yeah? There’s no intel here. He didn’t tell them anything.”
Jamie shakes his head.
“He answered the questions as they were asked.”
“Yes, Jamie. That’s generally how interviews work.”
He points to a paragraph toward the bottom of the screen.
“Read it, smart-ass. The second-to-last question.”
I exhale loudly, leaning closer, a tiny swirl of anxious excitement spinning in my stomach.
Offc. McElroy:And from your vantage point, standing in the ballroom, did you observe Caitlin Dale leaving the party?
J. Brody:I did not.
Offc. McElroy:But you did see Patrick Yates leave at some point thereafter?
J. Brody:I did.
“See?” says Jamie quietly.
I shake my head. But then...
“Wait.”
I see it. I think I see it. It’s like an optical illusion that won’t stay in focus.
“The officer thought he wasinthe ballroom,” Jamie says, standing, unable to hold back any longer. “See? Look at how he phrased it.”
He points to the line.
“ ‘From your vantage point, standing in the ballroom.’ ”
Jamie grins, continuing.
“But that’s not where Brody watches during parties, right? He stands justoutsidethe room.”
Always. Mr. Brody might dip into the ballroom to attend to a member or correct a server’s misstep. But otherwise, he holds his post just outside the doorway, in the gallery, shifting down the hall in tandem with the party as it progresses from the yellow ballroom, to the green and blue rooms and, finally, to the pink.
“The officer knew Brody supervised,” I say, thinking aloud. “So, he just assumed—”
“And Brody didn’t correct him,” Jamie interjects. “But that’s not the point.”
I picture the scene from above as though looking down into a dollhouse.
“He would’ve been outside the pink room,” I say, my heart speeding up. “He’d have been—”
“At the end of the gallery, right by the basement stairs,” Jamie finishes. “Right fucking there.”
