A Knight at the Opera Read Free Page B

appetizer that the waiter described as a mixture of blue
crab meat, spinach and grilled artichoke, plus an order of tuna tartar and a plate of
sliders.
    When the waiter had delivered our drinks and left us, Maurice said, "So, what's
your story, Robin?"
    She creased her brow. "What do you mean?"
    "Are you married? Single? A schoolteacher? The CEO of some multinational
corporate leviathan?"
    She smiled. "None of the above. Well, actually, that's not true. I am single. I was
engaged to be married in August, but he turned out to be a complete turd. I broke it off."
Her eyes had suddenly become misty. "So, I guess I'm single. That's why I had to go to the
opera by myself tonight."
    An odd look crossed Maurice's brow, but she didn't seem to notice. But I knew
exactly what he was thinking, and it wasn't good.
    Rebound.
    This woman was definitely on the rebound. Three years earlier, Maurice had
gotten involved with a newly-divorced woman and it had been a disaster for him.
    He patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "I'm single, too. After nearly six
years of marriage. You get over it."
    "God, I hope so." She pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed her eyes. "It's
been awful!"
    The hors d'oeuvres arrived and we divided them up. She took a bite of the tuna.
"Mmm, this is delicious."
    He said, "So's the crab."
    She twisted so that she was facing him. "Tell me, what do you think happened to
that man?"
    Maurice shrugged. "I have no clue. I guess it could have been almost anything.
Besides, Adam's the one who does all the heavy thinking. Ask him."
    "Okay, I will. Adam, what do you think?"
    That was one of the things I wanted to talk to Maurice about. I decided there was
no harm sharing it with Robin. "There's something odd about all of this. Did you happen to
notice the angle he fell at?"
    Maurice narrowed his eyes at me, as though I was a car salesman who had just
offered him a free 2013 Porsche. "What do you mean?"
    "I'm not sure. I only caught a glimpse of him before he hit the ground, but it
seemed to me that he was moving in an arc toward us. He wasn't falling straight
down."
    Maurice thought about it. "You may be right. Where are you going with
this?"
    I took a slow sip of scotch. "I don't know."
    Robin had downed most of her drink. She touched her fingertips dramatically to
her lips. "Are you saying he jumped? Or was pushed?"
    I regarded her. She might have sad eyes, but she was nobody's fool. "I'm not
saying anything. There could be half a dozen explanations for what happened. It just seems
odd that he fell the way he did. I--"
    My phone rang. It was Hal Gross, the news editor of the Clarion. He had
appointed himself as my number one cheerleader, spreading my name across the pages of
his newspaper every chance he could. Evidently, this was going to be one of those
occasions.
    "Hi, Hal."
    His unmistakably New York voice came booming in my ear. "'Hi, Hal,' my fanny!
I hear you've had an eventful night at the opera."
    "You could say that. How did you hear--"
    "I'm a journalist, for God sakes. I hear everything. And you didn't have the
decency to call me with a scoop."
    "Sorry," I said. "It didn't seem like much of a story."
    "I thought I had you trained better than that, my friend. So tell me what
happened."
    "You probably know more than I do. After the opera ended, a body came
crashing down from somewhere in the balcony. It was a middle-aged man in a black
pin-striped suit. He nearly landed on Maurice."
    "I know all that," Hal protested. "I want to hear the part about your saving a
woman's life. I hear you were her knight in shining armor."
    "Not me. That was Maurice," I noticed that Robin had flagged the waiter, and
was ordering another drink. She had downed her first one in two quick gulps. I shook my
head, to indicate that I was going to pass. To Hal, I said, "Maurice was the knight in shining
armor."
    "Honest? It wasn't you?"
    "No, it was my fearless legal assistant. His old football instincts," I said. "You're
going to