"None. It's just that she might have been happier during her last days if you had."
He glared at me, raising his chin. "No. I have no regrets." It seemed he was about to add some biting remark, but swallowed down the words before they passed his lips. Another first.
"All right," I said, thinking that Strauss was either a very proud man or a very cold one. Or both. "How did Esther get along with her coworkers?"
"Fine. She was very close to the other secretary, Leah Benowitz—she's married now; her last name is Goldin."
"What about the others—Itamar Levine and Alex Fishman?"
Strauss let go of his glass, sliding his hands to the edge of the desk. "They were cordial to each other, professional, but I don't think they knew Esther outside the office. Leah knew her best. Of course, she was also interviewed by the police ten years ago, an interview you must have read. But I suppose you'd want to be able to tell your client that you left no stone unturned in your investigation."
His mocking tone was getting under my skin. I was on the verge of informing him that I had already talked to Leah Goldin, when I was struck by a sudden realization.
I turned to look at the office door, behind which was the reception area and, in it, Dana, the secretary. The only secretary.
Turning back to Strauss, I said, "Ten years ago, you had two associates?"
"Yes."
"How many do you have now?"
"Six." Strauss's thin lips arched in satisfaction. "We have expanded."
"Business must be good."
"Hard work has made it so. That and meticulous, diligent, and quality service."
"Why did you require two secretaries ten years ago, when you only employ one now, when your business is much larger?"
Strauss tensed. He had good facial control, so I might have missed it were it not for his eyes. If the look he gave me had a temperature, I would have gotten frostbite.
"I don't think how I run my firm is any concern of yours, is it, Mr. Lapid?"
"I was just curious, Mr. Strauss," I said, intrigued by his apparent discomfort.
"An admirable quality in your, eh, profession. I'm sure it serves you well when you stalk the occasional wayward husband or wife." He glanced at his wristwatch. "But now I'd like you to leave. I'm a busy man and you have taken enough of my—"
I raised a hand. "Just one or two questions more, Mr. Strauss."
He exhaled in resignation. "Go on."
"Where were you the night of the murders?"
His eyes blazed. "Are you suggesting I might have had something to do with this crime? Are you insane?"
"It's a question you were asked ten years ago."
"If you know that, then you must know the answer as well. I was home, with my wife, all night."
He was right. I did know that from the police report, but I wanted to see his face when he said it. He appeared truthful.
"Your wife can vouch for you?"
"She did at the time, but if you'd like to talk to her yourself, I'm afraid you're a bit late."
"What do you mean?"
"My wife is deceased, Mr. Lapid," he said flatly. "She died three months ago. Cancer."
"I see you're still in pieces over it," I said.
Strauss shot to his feet, planting both palms on his desk. His jaw muscles rippled with anger. He spoke through gritted teeth. "How dare you? Just who the hell do you think you are? Consider my earlier offer rescinded—do not leave your name with Dana on your way out. And don't come back here, either. Now get out!"
I stood, feeling an odd satisfaction that I had gotten a rise out of him. It was silly and pointless, but it sure felt good.
I strode to the door. Strauss stood riveted, following me with his eyes. I grasped and lowered the handle, drawing the door open. "Thank you for your time," I said before stepping out and shutting the door.
Turning from the door, I saw Dana staring at me from behind her desk. I offered a smile. She reciprocated. She had a nice smile. I was about to bid her a good day when she spoke.
"I'm glad you found her."
I had no idea what she was talking about. "Who?"
"Leah Benowitz—Goldin, I mean."
I approached her desk. "How do you know I saw her?"
"She called earlier. I told her you were asking about her, and she said you'd been by."
"She called you? I thought you two didn't know each other."
"We don't. It's the first time I've spoken with her. She called for Mr. Strauss."
I swiveled my head to look at the closed door to Mr. Strauss's office while my mind strove to digest, process, and make sense of this new piece of information. I also hoped fervently that Strauss would remain ensconced in his office for just a while longer, because I had a few more questions for Dana, the pretty secretary.
"Did she say anything about me?" I asked.
"Just that you two met."
"Did she say why she wanted to speak to Mr. Strauss?"
"No."
I could tell by her face that she did not listen in on their talk. She might prick her ears if an intriguing conversation was being conducted within earshot, but she wasn't the sort to eavesdrop on a private telephone call.
