CHAPTER 9SPEAKING OF POISONS
RITA CALLENDER lived in St. James Place, the most exclusive street in Los Angeles, exclusive in the literal sense of the word, for it is just two blocks long, with wrought-iron gates at each end. Tuck parked the black car near the sign saying, All Deliveries Must Be Made via the Alley, and he and Brigit passed through the portals. The deliberately splendid, haughtily ugly old houses faced each other across the sunny street like grandes dames at a dinner table.
“I haven’t seen lace curtains since I was a little girl,” marveled Brigit.
“Keep your eye peeled for a pair of spanking bays,” advised Tuck.
The house where Rita lived was colonial and red brick. The white door was opened by Rita’s mother, a stumpy woman with mournful eyes. She told them that Rita had
