Brutality (28 page)

“Wow. They really put on a show.”

“Sometimes it’s the only way to get people to talk to you. They said they were old friends of your mother’s.”

“Was the agent familiar with her?”

Fina took a bite of gyro before answering. “Yes, and Greta. They didn’t ask outright about Elizabeth’s offspring, but there was no mention of blended families or that sort of thing. There was no sense that Greta or her family were interested in contacting you.”

Risa speared a grape tomato. “So she just wants me for my kidney.”

“I think we should do a little more digging before we decide that Greta is just in it for your organs.”

Risa straightened the napkin on her lap. “Maybe it doesn’t even matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe she does just need my kidney, but maybe that’s reason enough for me to give it to her.”

“Uhh, that’s not reason enough,” Fina said.

“Why not? I have something that could save her life. Who am I to deny her that?”

“You’re the owner of the kidney, that’s who. You’re not obligated to help someone at the expense of your health or your own family.”

“No, but I should at least seriously consider it.”

Fina swallowed some soda. “Clearly, you’re a much better person than I am.”

“Not necessarily.” Risa fiddled with the straw in her drink. “I have my own reason for considering it.”

“Which is?”

“Greta would have to be really cold to not want to know me once she’s walking around with my kidney.”

Fina raised an eyebrow. “So you want to guilt her into a relationship?”

“That’s not how I would put it, but perhaps it would provide an added incentive.”

“Why don’t you throw in a cornea and a chunk of your liver? You two would be BFFs in a heartbeat.”

Risa snorted.

“I think we should talk to Greta,” Fina said. “Let’s ask her if they ever tried to find you, and if not, why not?”

Risa put down her fork. Her face looked pinched. “But what makes you think she’s going to tell the truth?”

“I have no expectation that she’ll tell the truth,” Fina admitted, “but we’ll learn something, whatever she tells us.”

“You think you’ll be able to tell if she’s lying?”

Fina bit into a chunk of feta. She held up a finger while she chewed.

“Probably,” she said. “Regardless, she needs to make her case. The burden is on her, not you.”

Risa sat for a moment, thinking. “Fine. When should we do it?” she asked.

“As soon as possible. I’ll call her and try to set something up, but I think you should postpone your tests until after we’ve met with her.”

“Where should we meet?”

“She is sick,” Fina said, “so I don’t want to make it impossible for her, but we probably shouldn’t meet in Rockford if we want some privacy.”

Risa sipped her drink. “Do you think Marty should be a part of the conversation?”

“What do you think?” Fina asked.

“Maybe not. I think he’d have a hard time listening and being objective. Not that I’ll be objective, but I’d be worrying about him the whole time.”

“Then he probably shouldn’t join us,” Fina said, “but I’ll be there, and I’ll steer the conversation. You know I don’t have any problem asking tough questions.”

“I know.” Risa winced. “I almost feel a little sorry for Greta.”

“Which is exactly why I’ll be there,” Fina said. “I’m sorry Greta is sick, but my concern is for you, not her.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

They conferred about Risa’s schedule and then moved on to other topics of conversation, including Haley. Fina didn’t mention the proposed visit to Miami. Hopefully, she’d successfully derail that plan before anything came of it.

The waiter started to clear their plates, a process that took a considerable amount of time given his advanced age.

“I think this conversation warrants something really sweet and sinful,” Fina said, ordering a slice of baklava for them to share.

“Sure, why not?”

Once the man had wandered off, Fina reached across the table and squeezed Risa’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

Risa nodded. “I know. I just never thought I’d be in this position.”

A few minutes later, the old man deposited a gleaming, sticky piece of baklava in front of them. Fina picked up a fork and broke through the crunchy top layer of phyllo.

“There’s nothing weirder in this world than family,” she said, licking honey off her fork. “Or at least, that’s been my experience.”

—

A
ccording to the desk sergeant at police headquarters, Cristian and Pitney were unavailable, but Fina was welcome to wait. She checked her e-mail and left a message for Hal while sitting on a straight-backed wooden bench across from the main desk. It was not a seating arrangement conducive to lingering, but Fina wasn’t that easily dissuaded. As long as she could keep busy, she’d give them a half hour before giving up.

Sharing the bench with her was a young woman who had the curious combination of a young face with signs of age that suggested a hard life. Her skin—pocked with youthful acne—contrasted with the dark smudges under her eyes. Her hair was stringy and shoulder-length, a yellowish blond except for an inch of dark brown growth at her scalp. She’d parked a stroller next to the bench, and the toddler in it keened intermittently. The mom scolded him, which was highly effective, until he started up again thirty seconds later. Fina wondered who they were waiting for. The baby daddy, perhaps? A sibling or parent? They were all depressing options.

Cristian showed up a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. Fina watched as the mother appraised him. He touched Fina’s shoulder, and the young woman glanced at her. Her expression soured, but Fina couldn’t tell if it was because Fina was consorting with the enemy or because the young woman deemed her unworthy of Cristian’s attention.

“Sorry you had to wait,” Cristian said, leading her upstairs to the squad room.

“Sorry I didn’t call, but I thought I’d take a chance that you were in.”

“How’s the hand?”

“It’s fine. Peg Gillis took a look at it this morning.”

“How are Frank and Peg?” Cristian asked.

“They’re good.”

She followed him down a hallway, bypassing the interrogation rooms. Out of sight, a man was hollering, but nobody seemed to notice. Cristian directed her into one of the interview rooms that was used for victims’ family members. The space was unthreatening with its couch, round table, and chairs. A bulletin board on the wall featured helpful posters about staying safe in the city and protecting your property. A couple of framed prints on the wall were clearly inspired by Monet. Fina wondered how Claude would feel about being the equivalent of the generic brand for the art world.

Fina sat down at the table, and Cristian took the chair next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that note?” he asked.

Fina shrugged. “What would you have done?”

He was silent.

“Exactly. There was nothing to do. You know I’m not shy about asking for favors, but there wasn’t anything you could have done. I kept my eyes open after I got it.”

He stared at her. “You were burned by an incendiary device.”

Fina held up her hand. “Barely. I’m fine, and now you can help me. So, who tried to burn me to a crisp?” she asked.

Cristian grinned, despite his best efforts not to. “I don’t know yet, but we’re working on it. Your family isn’t being helpful, by the way.”

She widened her eyes. “Really? That doesn’t sound like them at all.”

“It’s very frustrating,” Cristian said.

“I hear ya. I’ll see if I can get anything out of them,” Fina said.

“I would appreciate it.”

“I aim to please, Cristian. You know that.”

He opened the laptop and tapped on a few buttons. “Here’s what we have so far.” The screen came to life, and he made the video player full-screen. “This is from one of the cameras in the parking garage.”

“Did you check the tapes from Ludlow and Associates? I know we’ve got beefed-up security in the section we lease,” Fina said.

“Yes, but there was nothing on them. I’m not surprised. The quality was good at least; your father springs for top-notch security.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about Carl.” Fina moved her chair closer to him and adjusted the machine so she had a better view. Cristian hit the play button, and a grainy video started. It showed a segment of parking garage and the fleet SUV.

“Nothing happens for a while,” he said, advancing the frames with his mouse. “Until . . . there.”

He slowed the video down to real time so Fina could watch as a man entered the frame. He was wearing a baseball hat and a hoodie, which obscured his face. He kneeled down next to the car for a minute or so, then got back up and moved out of the frame toward the hood of the car. A minute later, he reappeared before walking away and not returning.

“Is it my imagination or was that guy really big?” she asked Cristian as he hit pause.

“That guy was really big,” he agreed.

“Definitely over six feet, right?”

“We’re guessing around six feet five inches.”

“But not just tall,” Fina said. “He also looks thick and broad, like he’s carrying a lot of weight.”

“Yup.”

“Well, that narrows it down a little.”

“It would if we had a registry by height and weight,” Cristian said.

“Well, can’t you search with those parameters?”

“Sure, but only if the guy’s in the system.”

“Hmm.”

They watched the video a couple more times in silence.

“I think he’s black. Do you agree?” Fina asked.

“Or possibly Hispanic.”

Fina stared at the images. “I hate these useless security systems. What’s the point?”

“To some extent, it’s a deterrent.”

“Not enough of one, obviously.” Fina leaned toward the computer. “What’s that?” She pointed at the area around one of his ankles.

“Part of his sock?” Cristian asked.

“An emblem or an insignia?”

He enlarged the image. “Can’t tell. It could be a shadow or even dirt.”

They were both studying the screen when Pitney walked into the room.

“Do you recognize him?” she asked Fina. She stood next to Fina’s chair, her hands on her hips.

“No. There’s not much to recognize beyond his size.”

“Fina, what are we going to do about you and Gus Sibley?” Pitney asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Fina asked.

Cristian shook his head and struggled to suppress a smile.

“Don’t be a smart-ass,” Pitney said.

“I’m not being a smart-ass. Has he contacted you about our most recent chat?”

Pitney folded her arms across her ample chest. She was wearing navy blue pants and a chevron-patterned turtleneck in shades of greens and purple. Fina wanted to look away, but couldn’t, it was so hypnotizing.

“No,” the lieutenant conceded.

“So what’s the problem, Lieutenant? I know you find this hard to believe, but I don’t purposefully defy you to make your job more difficult.”

“I do find that hard to believe. I think you’re playing out some parent-child issues.”

“Well, of course I am, but not with you! I have Carl and Elaine for that.” Fina sat back in her chair. “I think that Gus Sibley is hiding something, and he shouldn’t be allowed to dictate if and how he’s investigated just because he’s rich and well known.”

Pitney rolled her eyes. “Like your family doesn’t play the rich and famous card all the time.”

“Actually, I would argue that we’re made an example of because we’re rich and
infamous
, and most of our clients aren’t rich and famous. At least not until we start working for them.”

“Gus Sibley is not calling the shots,” Pitney said. “We’ll investigate him as much as we want to.”

“Fine, and if he wants to sue me for harassment, he’s welcome to,” Fina said. “In the meantime, he’s got us going around in circles instead of going after him. By the way—where was he the night that Liz was attacked?”

Pitney sighed.

“He was at home with his wife,” Cristian said.

“Ah. An alibi from the one person who can’t testify against him. That’s awfully convenient.”

“We’re on top of it, Fina,” Pitney insisted, “but you’re wasting my time when I’m hauled into my captain’s office and he chews me out because a citizen is complaining.”

Fina held her hands up in a motion of surrender. “I get that, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop doing my job because Gus or your boss doesn’t like it.”

Pitney stared at her. Cristian’s gaze bounced between the two women.

“Do not piss him off unnecessarily,” Pitney finally said.

Fina started to protest, but the lieutenant cut her off. “And don’t pretend that you don’t do that, because you do. Do your job, but try not to be a pain in the ass, at least not any more than usual.”

“Fine. I will do my best to behave.”

Pitney snorted.

Fina rose from her seat and started out the door. “Thanks for sharing the video with me. I’ll see if I can get some info from Scotty.”

“That would be a refreshing change,” Pitney said.

“I look forward to seeing you guys at the funeral,” Fina said.

She returned to her car and contemplated the video. Fina didn’t recognize the man on the tape, and although she was happy it was a lead, she didn’t find it particularly reassuring.

She was being followed by the Jolly Green Giant.

—

H
er presence was requested at a family dinner, which was enough for Fina to lose her appetite. She had no interest in attending, but knew she would be the topic of conversation either way. A more mature person might have recognized the futility of showing up—Elaine and Carl, in particular, would think what they wanted to think—but Fina still clung to the idea that defending herself wasn’t completely without merit.

Tonight’s dinner was being hosted by Patty, and Fina always got a small thrill watching her mother be relegated to second-in-command. Patty gave Elaine tasks to do and let her do things her way, but it was clear that it was Patty’s house, not Elaine’s.