CHAPTER 19PHIL STARK WAS not alone in his elegant office. Another man sat slumped in one of the deep red leather chairs, a cold-eyed man with a narrow black mustache and a dark gray suit. Mr. Jefferson Webster Carr, attorney-at-law, the husband of the dead Marcia, sad and remote in his grief. When he saw Ramsey, his thin lips began to work and he started to get out of the chair.
Stark stopped him with an easy gesture. “Now, Jeff, don’t upset yourself. I’ll handle this.”
Carr sank back, but his eyes did not leave Ramsey’s face. Ramsey, holding Sara’s brown leather bag, stood before the desk. He was aware that Victor was behind him.
Stark spoke pleasantly to Victor. “Any trouble?”
“A little,” Ramsey heard Victor say. “But we made it.”
“What kind of trouble?” Stark asked sharply. “Did an
