now he couldnât seem to accept the possibility that she might not want him back.
The sudden ringing of the phone startled Laura so much that she almost dropped her brush. As it was, a broad smear of yellow was added to her already splattered bib apron. Every studio was equipped with a phone, but it was for emergency use only. In all the time Laura had spent at the colony, her studio phone had never rung. Her thoughts flew to her parents, cruising somewhere in the Caribbean on board their ketch,
Star Chaser
. She took a deep breath and reached for the phone. It was Kevin Lavoie, apologizing profusely for the disturbance, saying that Corporal Lindstrom would like to see her. Laura hesitated, then told him to send the policewoman to her studio. Laura rarely invited visitors to her studio, but when she did make an exception it invariably resulted in a pleasant surprise. Only the week before she had agreed to let Carl Eckart pay her a call.
She had agreed to the visit because the gruff Eckart was a musician, a professor of musicology in the music department and a composer of sorts. Musicians seemed to have special insights into her paintings. At the timeof his visit Laura was playing a CD of some far-out jazz to energize her as she painted. Two days later he had presented her with a tape of the same music he had reproduced on his synthesizer. He had carried all the notes away from her studio in his head.
âFascinating,â murmured the policewoman, several minutes later as she gazed around the high-ceilinged studio with its north-facing skylight. âIâve never been in an artistâs studio before.â Her eyes travelled along the paintings propped up against the walls. âI know Iâm not qualified to give an opinion, but I like them. Especially that one.â She pointed to a large painting of a room with a piano and a balcony overlooking a turquoise sea. âIt looks so serene and peaceful.â
âYou have a good eye.â Laura waved her to a chair and looked at her enquiringly.
âIâm here to enlist your help, Ms. Janeway.â
âItâs Laura.â
âGreat. Iâm Karen.â
Corporal Karen Lindstrom. How perfectly it suited her.
âIâm an artist,â Laura said, ânot a detective.â
âThatâs precisely why I would like to have your help. All the players are artists and Iâm not confident that I know what makes them tick. Especially after meeting Mr. Switzer.â
Laura smiled. âI see what you mean. What did Jeremy have to say for himself?â
âHe passes off the lawsuit as a nuisance, but heâs bluffing. He couldnât stop tugging at his beard. The manâs worried sick.â
Laura nodded. âWhat did he say about last night?â
âHe claims he has an alibi for the time of Montroseâs death, but he wonât tell me what it is. Doesnât want to ruin his loverâs reputation, he says.â
âCan he get away with that?â
âFor the moment, yes. But, if the autopsy turns up anything suspicious, Iâll come down hard on Mr. Switzer.â
âIt sounds as if youâre not satisfied Alanâs death was an accident?â
âNo, Iâm not. Partly because youâre not. The autopsy could clear things up, one way or the other, but if we find that we have to carry on with the investigation, I would really appreciate your help. You could be my guide to the colony. What you told me about Switzer proved to be very helpful. While it was a frustrating interview, I felt I was able to meet him on his own terms.â
Laura frowned. âI donât care much for the idea of spying on my friends.â
âIâm not asking you to spy on anyone. Itâs more a matter of helping me understand the way these people think.â Karen got up from her chair, walked over to the door, and then turned back with a smile. âWell, I suppose it
is
a bit more than