Smart House by Kate Wilhelm Page B

examined the door lock and the numbered panel on the outside and tried to fathom how the thing worked when the computer was operating. He could not understand it, he decided, and closed the door, looked for a lock that he did understand, and failed to find that, too.
    “This isn’t a house!” Constance exclaimed, standing at the wall of windows. There was an ocean view, misty and gray and beautiful. The room was decorated in orchid, lavender, and navy blue, with exquisite cloisonné objects here and there—lamps, a statuette of a crane, an ashtray. “This is like one of the four-star hotels you read about.”
    Twin beds, a desk with a computer, a television, chests of drawers, large closet, extravagantly fitted bathroom, like an expensive hotel, Charlie agreed, after looking through it all. Except there was no way to lock the door. He knew he would use the old chair-under-the-doorknob trick.
    When they left their room, it was to find Beth in the corridor. “I’ll take you to the living room,” she said. “Milton’s waiting for you. And Bruce and a couple of the others.” She looked gloomy as she motioned down the hall. “No elevator. I wouldn’t get near that thing again.” She led them down the back stairs.
    “You really need a guide,” Constance said.
    “They handed out floor plans last time. There must be some around still. Milton will know.”
    They entered the living room and she introduced them: Alexander Randall looked nervous and uncertain of what to do with his hands. Milton nodded to them. He was carrying a large manila envelope. Maddie Elringer nodded to them both and did not speak. Her makeup was a mess: too much lipstick not very well applied, and her mascara had run and had not been repaired; as if she had not looked at herself in a mirror since morning. She was holding a tall drink and every sign said that it was not her first although it was then only four in the afternoon.
    As soon as the introductions were over Milton Sweetwater held out the envelope to Charlie. “I managed to get everything you asked for, and Alexander here worked on the house from the start. Anything you want to ask about the place, he should be able to fill in.”
    “Thanks.” Charlie tucked the envelope under his arm.
    From behind him a new voice demanded harshly, “What did you give him? Dossiers on all of us?”
    “That’s Bruce,” Beth said wearily.
    “And that’s not an answer,” Bruce said in a truculent tone. He joined the group near the window, looking over Charlie, ignoring Constance. “I know who you are. What I want to know is what he told you we hired you to do.”
    “Bruce, you’re making a fool of yourself,” Milton snapped. “I told him exactly what we discussed at our last meeting, and I supplied him with the forensic reports, the police reports, the articles of incorporation, the terms of Gary’s will, a summary of the company’s financial statement of the past year, a floor plan of the house, and perhaps one or two other documents, a list of which I can and will supply at our next meeting.”
    Constance was watching with an interest that was nearly clinical. Maddie’s hands had started to shake so hard she had to put down her glass, and now each hand gripped the other so tightly that the ends of her fingers were scarlet, the knuckles white. Alexander was edging toward the door, ready to bolt.
    “I already told them what you’re accusing me of!” Beth said coldly, looking at Bruce with icy disdain.
    He made a grab for her arm and she twisted out of reach.
    “Don’t you touch me!” Her voice was choked with fury.
    “Stay and listen to me tell it. I don’t want you accusing me of saying anything behind your back. I was watching her,” he said to Charlie. “We heard Gary laughing. I was watching her. She heard it, just like I did. And she got up and went out after him. She’d been trying to get him to talk to her all day, and that was her chance, while everyone else was watching