Someone Else's Husband(101)

All signs now pointed to Becks as the person who had destroyed Frankie’s studio. And then there was Luke, who would have happily encouraged mayhem for the sake of mayhem. But what if it hadn’t stopped at Frankie’s studio? What if Becks had been upset enough to go to Frankie’s apartment and confront her?

That was why Gretchen still needed to talk to Noah. Maybe he knew the name of the ex-boyfriend who had been stalking Frankie. She didn’t care who it was. She just needed a suspect other than her son.

“Thank you,” Gretchen said to Hilary, staring at her friend. Her best friend. She took a sip of her drink, willing herself to go on. “Hilary…did you sleep with Richard?”

Hilary spat out a mouthful of mezcal onto her impractical white shag carpet. Then she barked out a laugh as she sat up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Her shock seemed genuine. Still, Gretchen did not feel as relieved as she had hoped she would be. “Richard’s secretary, Deborah—she said you were at Goldman. That you wanted to confront him about something.”

Hilary closed her eyes for a long time, far too long.

“I know you think she walks on water, but that woman is a judgy bitch,” she said finally. “I knew the second I spoke to her that she’d make it her mission to snitch.”

“Snitch?”

“Okay, fine. Not the point.” Hilary waved a hand, erasing the word. “Scotty told me that Frankie came to him for some legal advice a week or so ago. She said someone was harassing her. But she also said that she and Richard had been seeing each other. Scotty made me promise not to say anything to you.” She took a sip of her drink. “So I went there to tell Richard to go fuck himself.”

“Oh.” Gretchen felt…nothing. She was completely numb. What a fool she had been. Had everyone known but her?

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Hilary said quietly, grabbing Gretchen’s hand and squeezing it. Gretchen could see the gesture, even if she couldn’t feel it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I could have ignored Scotty. And I was going to. I told him if he didn’t make Richard tell you, that I would. And then…she was dead.”





Grand Jury Transcript


Testimony of Noah King


Conducted by Abigail Hoffman, Assistant District Attorney



November 27


(Cont.)


Q. Okay, so what was your understanding of the connection between Mr. Falk and Ms. Callahan?

A. That it was exactly that—a connection. There was no relationship.

Q. What do you know about the events that took place late at night on September 10th and in the early-morning hours of September 11th?

A. On the advice of counsel, I plead the Fifth Amendment on the grounds that anything I say might incriminate me.

Q. Do you know what happened in Frankie’s apartment that night?

A. On the advice of counsel, I plead the Fifth Amendment on the grounds that anything I say might incriminate me.

Q. Do you know who was in the apartment that night?

A. On the advice of counsel, I plead the Fifth Amendment on the grounds that anything I say might incriminate me.

Q. Do you know, Mr. King, where Ms. Callahan is now?

A. On the advice of counsel, I plead the Fifth Amendment on the grounds that anything I say might incriminate me.





Before


Frankie

September 10

Turns out, the management company had a set of keys to my apartment. By the time I pick them up, Thalia has also called me back, offering to help. But I can’t bear to return her call. If I hear her voice I’ll fall apart. So instead of responding to her, I walk over to the East River, then south. My thoughts keep returning to what I will do with Richard’s daughter’s surprisingly comfortable flip-flops—keep them, wear them, throw them out. The comfort of minutiae is sometimes not small at all. I walk all the way to the bottom of Manhattan and across the Brooklyn Bridge, watching the tourists ambling by in a steady stream. Lives going on in the face of mine falling apart again and again.

Richard destroyed my paintings and trashed my studio—finally, the thought I’ve been avoiding sticks. And then he swooped in to the rescue. Did he just get lucky with the Senator’s texts starting up again at the same time? Richard couldn’t have been responsible for those. No one knows about the Senator except Noah.

When I’m finally back at my building, I ask my elderly neighbor Hans to stand by while I double-check that the apartment is empty. He agrees, though he seems both suspicious and confused as he stands in the entryway in his dress pants and striped tank top.

“Okay, it’s fine. You can go,” I say apologetically when I’m done.

“You are sure?” he asks, scowling. This is the most Hans and I have ever spoken. I resist an overwhelming urge to hug him.

“Yes, thank you.”

After he’s gone and I’m finally home alone behind my closed apartment door, the levee breaks. I start to cry. I slide down until I’m kneeling on the floor, elbows against the hard wood.

There is nowhere left for me to go, and I am scared. Really, really scared. And so, finally, I call the police.

“You’re saying someone broke in this morning?” the operator asks, not attempting to hide her skepticism.

“Yes.”