Bentley was on the phone when I poked my head into her office, but she raised a regal finger, silently ordering me to wait until she was done. She then wiggled the same finger in a downward motion, indicating that I should take a seat. She obviously didn’t care if I overheard her conversation.
Twirling the tip of a resplendent mustard-hued Hermès scarf, Bentley frowned as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. Finally, she sighed in impatience and stated, “While I am happy to do my part in reporting my findings, I don’t expect to be inconvenienced in this manner. Please inform Officer Griffiths that I am willing to discuss this matter via telephone or email, but should he wish to speak to someone in person, he should contact Lila Wilkins, one of my agents here at Novel Idea. Good day.”
A man spluttered indignantly at the other end of the line before Bentley severed the connection.
“With buffoons such as that on the force it’s no wonder the crime rate has escalated.” Bentley flicked an imaginary speck of dust from her black suit and replaced the opal and diamond earring she’d removed during her call. “I was merely trying to pass on information regarding Ruben Felden, but that Neanderthal didn’t seem to know the first thing about the Melissa Plume case or which of his fellow officers did.”
My hunger forgotten, I dumped my purse on the floor and gave Bentley my undivided attention. “I’d be glad to deliver the report on your behalf,” I assured her hastily.
“Good.” She handed me a piece of paper. “This is Mr. Felden’s flight itinerary, faxed to me by his assistant a few minutes ago.”
I examined the neat bullet points typed on the sheet. According to this document, Ruben Felden had flown to Chicago on Friday and returned late last night. “If this checks out, then he’s off the suspect list,” I said. “Did his assistant happen to mention why he went to Chicago?”
“Yes, she was most helpful.” Bentley paused and a look of disapproval crossed her face. “Though if she’d discussed my affairs so openly with a stranger, I’d have her fired on the spot.”
“Of course. But what did she tell you?” I prompted.
“Ruben’s aunt has been in declining health for the past few months. He received a call at work Friday morning that she was fading quickly, so he rushed from the office and took the first flight out. His aunt died on Saturday and Ruben was very distressed by her passing. Too distressed to call his assistant on Monday to say that he’d be absent. She found his itinerary through his work email.”
I glanced at the itinerary. The scant lines in my hand represented another loss. Albeit a natural death, Melissa’s coworker had obviously cared for his aunt and I felt a pang of sympathy for him.
As if reading my thoughts, Bentley said, “Apparently the aunt raised him and worked two jobs in order to pay for his college education. He stayed in Chicago for the funeral and to pack up some of her belongings before returning to New York.”
“Poor man,” I murmured.
Bentley wasn’t interested in the editor’s sorrows. “Ruben’s assistant told me that he’d indeed been angry with Melissa. One of their authors, an established writer of bestselling women’s fiction whose name the assistant actually refused to divulge, originally signed with Ruben. However, she was uncomfortable having a man edit her work and begged Melissa to take over her contract.”
“But Melissa couldn’t do that, could she?”
“No, that would have been completely inappropriate. However, the editorial director of the publishing house could, and in the interest of keeping this author happy, transferred the contract to Melissa.”
I could see how such a decision would serve to wound Ruben’s pride and told Bentley as much.
She shrugged dispassionately. “This is a business, Lila. And a tough one at that. Eventually, Ruben would have recognized that keeping this author content and pumping out bestselling novels was worth more to the company than his ego.”
“Sounds like Ruben Felden hasn’t had the best of times lately,” I mused. “But if his flight confirmation checks out, then at least he won’t be considered a murder suspect. I’ll tell Sean—uh, Officer Griffiths—what you’ve told me and drop this fax off at the station later this afternoon.” I thanked Bentley for finding out about Ruben and headed off to lunch.