But I didn’t tell the investigators all that. I only told them about getting Arch out the door with Tom, then spending time on the telephone with clients as I figured out the work for the day. I still had those gingerbreads to make. As I worked packing up the paraphernalia for the library gig, I’d talked on the phone to my assistant, Julian Teller, about the vegetarian dinner over in Boulder. We’d also discussed two other parties, the ones we were doing for the MacArthurs tomorrow night and Monday. “Drew Wellington was supposed to be at the first one,” I added. “It is going to be, or was going to be, a very big deal, celebrating an acquisition the MacArthurs had made.”
Armstrong whistled through his teeth. “Okay. Tell us about the MacArthurs and where they live.”
“They’re at 202 Wild Bil
