The Body in the Ballroom by R. J. Koreto

Author:R. J. Koreto
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

CHAPTER 21

Miles van Dijk lived in Queens, which is basically a collection of villages next to Brooklyn on the far side of the East River. It was a bit of a drive. They kept talking about building a bridge to Queens, but at the time, the only way to drive there was indirectly over the Brooklyn Bridge. That was fine with me because that bridge was just about my favorite thing in New York. It was more impressive than any building I’d seen, and I never got tired of driving on it and seeing the great view of New York’s harbor.

Of course, my feelings were a little tainted by the memories of the last time Alice and I had crossed it—during the little adventure that led to some scandalous court cases and my temporary exile to St. Louis. Alice remembered, too, as I could tell from her smirk.

“That was something, the last time we were here, wasn’t it?”

“As I recall, you were rather upset by the end,” I said.

“Well, at the time,” she said grudgingly. “But we did accomplish something. We really did.” She turned to me for confirmation.

“We sure did, Miss Alice.”

It was still a little quieter on the far side of the river, so I liked getting out of Manhattan every now and then. We drove through different neighborhoods on our way, some nicer than others, and Alice looked around curiously. One of the things about being really rich, especially as a woman, was that you didn’t get to see a lot of different kinds of places. Whether it was Manhattan or the summer places in Newport, rich people tended to stay in rich people places.

We found Miles van Dijk’s home on a street of modest houses with a bit of green between them, and although it seemed nice enough, it was pretty simple for the son of one of the city’s great families. If they had really lost their money like we were told, it must’ve been a big shock. We parked out front and walked along the stone walkway that cut through a badly tended lawn.

“He’s not living as nicely as his sister did,” I said. “We knew the family had problems, but this is pretty far from Fifth Avenue.”

“They each made a decision,” said Alice.

“But who made the right one?” I said.

“Once again, I see that you’ve developed quite a philosophical bent,” said Alice approvingly, and she rang the bell.

There was no maid or any servant to open the door; Van Dijk let us in himself. He looked surprised, but he must’ve heard the motorcar out front. So he was expecting someone, just not us, and I decided to keep my eyes and ears open while we were there.

“Mr. van Dijk? I’m Alice Roosevelt. I’m a friend of your late sister, and I’ve come to give you my condolences.”

I hadn’t met Delilah Linde, but everyone said she was a beauty, and I bet Van Dijk looked like her when he was better fixed up. Presently, Van Dijk peered at us through bloodshot eyes.

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