Too Quiet in Brooklyn (18 page)

“Who?” I asked as if I didn’t know. My hands were sweaty and my voice sounded like it did when I was six.

“The big guys. They hire some smart PR person and come out sounding squeaky clean. But not this time, because someone tipped the Feds, that’s what Mary said, and that’s why the audit. She said he wouldn’t get away with it, not this time.”

A Surprise Visit

As I came out of Phoebe’s house, I saw Denny and Cookie sitting in the jeep and asked Cookie if she wouldn’t mind switching to the front so I could spread out my stuff on the backseat, pig that I am.

Denny waited for me to get situated before pulling out. They shrugged when I told them I wanted to surprise Barbara before we started out for New Jersey.

I summarized what I’d learned from Phoebe Daligan.

Denny’s back straightened, like all his bones were at attention, but he was cool. “I’ll talk to Willoughby when we get home,” he said. “We’ll want to interview her, too. Maybe by that time, she’ll have remembered the guy’s name, although I think I know who she’s talking about. Connors. He was the president of Heights Federal.”

He’d just said the name I hadn’t heard since Mom was fired. Winston Connors. A made-up name if she ever heard one, she’d said about a dozen times. My feet got cold and I felt myself tiptoeing into myself. I heard the door to my heart clanging shut, but the picture of Charlie flashed by, along with the desultory scenes between me and Denny last night.

Denny broke the mood. “Eight o’clock already. We won’t get to New Jersey much before ten.”

I shrugged. Cookie got her mirror out, and I got to thinking about Barbara.

I told them about why I didn’t trust her—the smooth way she handled the news of her mother’s death and her little boy’s abduction. Except for a few rants and tissues, she was holding up just fine.

“How did you expect her to act?” Denny asked.

Good question. I couldn’t answer it. As a little bribe, we stopped at the Brooklyn Heights Deli for coffee and donuts and my mind did a spin forward, imagining them sipping their coffee and crinkling wax paper in the jeep while they waited for me. I’d better start focusing on the real, and quick, so I tried to answer Denny’s question. “But no one’s told her anything about her son and we’re as far from finding him as earth is from Mars. It’s just that I’ve got this big question mark about her in my head and I think if I can get her talking, I might be able to take a peek at her boyfriend.”

“Whatever,” Denny said.

At Barbara’s door, I waited for someone to answer my ring and pressed the bell again. I didn’t think she’d be going to work this morning. Banged on the knocker and heard footsteps approaching.

Barbara herself answered. I thought at first it was an older sister or cousin. She was so not like herself that I didn’t recognize her. Dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, bags under her eyes. Hair straggly. No makeup and yellow skin except for the dark circles below the eyes. She was in bad shape.

“I should have called. I’m so sorry. I was on my way to New Jersey and thought I’d stop by to see how you were holding up.”

Barbara shook her head and got a startled-deer look in her eyes. “Why New Jersey?”

“We got a lead. I can’t talk about it, but between the police and the FBI, we’re on it. And I think we found the spot where your mother was murdered. I’m hoping the police will be able to pull more than one set of fingerprints. We should have something solid very soon that’ll lead us to Charlie. Did Jane talk to you about holding another press conference later on today?”

She nodded, her arms crossed, barely comprehending what I was saying.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Again she shook her head and I saw a shadow moving behind her. A large man, handsome, stood in back of Barbara, his hands on her shoulders.

“If you’re from the press, get lost,” the guy said.

Barbara’s voice was detached, like it was coming from a long way away. “She’s my PI, keeping me informed.”

I flashed my license and apologized once again as I studied his features, blond hair, red beard, green eyes. Tall—six-five at least. I knew I’d seen him around, but where? I blinked. I remembered I was delusional at times, and maybe this was one of those moments.

“Oh, and one more thing that’s been bothering me. Do you know who recommended the two handymen to your mother?”

Another startled look. It took her too long to answer. “No, no. Why would I know that… she never told me. We never talked about them.”

I knew she was lying. She was dancing.

“She’s had a rough night, Red Beard said. And we haven’t had breakfast yet, so if you’ll excuse us. …”

No point in pushing it. I’d gotten what I wanted.

On The Way

Walking to the jeep, I slapped my forehead and looked at my watch, remembering my appointment with Lucy’s potential new client for this morning. I could hear the groans from Denny and Cookie, but I put on my saddest face and explained my dilemma. When we got to John Street, the address I remembered turned out to be nonexistent, unless you count the fenced area of rubble. Shaking my head, I made a note to double check with Minnie.

“Strange, I talked to him yesterday afternoon,” I said, “shortly after we’d found the body. He called Minnie yesterday morning, wanting a quote for cleaning his buildings.”

I looked at my “Recents” list and hit the number again. It rang once before he answered. I apologized to Mr. Blake for being late and told him I must have written down the wrong address. He gave me the correct one and said he’d meet me on the landing, third floor. I rolled my eyes, told him I’d be up in a second.

Denny and Cookie both looked at me and I heard Denny talking low to Cookie.

Mr. Blake was nice, told me what the work involved. Turned out the job wasn’t on John Street after all, but on Court, cleaning three office buildings, six floors each. He told me his expectations, gave me the square footage, and I quoted him a fair price for three buildings, five nights a week. He wanted the work to begin next week. I told him we’d send a contract to him and said we could start just as soon as we got the signed original and a crew. We shook hands and I told him I was looking forward to doing a cracking good job for him, keep his office sparkling and his employees happy. I bounded down the stairs, thinking Lucy’s might just make a tidy profit this year and got the pits in my stomach when I thought about Mom and how she scrambled for money the last year of her life. Damn, too little too late.

I got back to the jeep and called Minnie and told her the good news. I could tell she was excited. “He needs to sign a contract, but it looks good. We could be starting as early as next week.”

I stared down the street and across the East River at the smog beginning to roll in from wherever, spreading its clammy self all over Manhattan’s skyline. I looked hard at the skyscrapers, Wall Street muscling into the old Dutch seaport, the spires of a few clipper ships like toothpicks in the middle distance. Gulls cried and I crawled deep into my head. Things were all right in the cleaning department, and I prayed things were all right with Charlie. I tried not to think about what could be, and resolved to focus on getting him back to his mother and not to make any more mistakes.

Cookie finished the last of her coffee and said she had to pee, so we made a quick stop at home. Afterward, Denny headed for the bridge and the Holland Tunnel.

“Did you see Barbara’s boyfriend?” Cookie asked.

I nodded and described him. “Ring any bells?”

“No. And trust me, I’d remember blond hair and red beard and six-five. No wonder she’s holding up.”

“We won’t get to Allentown much before eleven-thirty,” Denny said. “Just in time for lunch.”

“Forget lunch,” Cookie said. “I know Allentown. I used to date a boy who lived there. All I remember about him was the homemade ice cream shop on the main drag. Drop me off there.”

“At the rate we’re going, I could have kept my appointment with Hector,” I said, and texted Jane to find out what she’d learned from processing the shed.

“Too early 4 results. W & I interviewing Hector now. Showing him pix. Will txt aftr” was her reply.

At least she was quicker getting back to me.

Something about Barbara was beginning to gnaw at me, and don’t tell me it was jealousy. I had the perfect boyfriend, thank you. Looking through the papers in her glove compartment yesterday, I found the name of a high-powered law firm in the Wall Street area—Faramond, Whitlock, Walker & Quentin—where Barbara was junior partner, or at least, those were the words she used yesterday. I mean, I don’t know that much about law offices, just what I see on TV, but I figured Barbara was too young and too poor to be a named partner. It was past nine by my watch so I called and got the world’s slowest receptionist. After a lengthy hold, she told me what I already knew, that Barbara “wasn’t in the office today.”

“May I speak with one of her team members?”

“Pardon?”

“One of her co-workers or her supervisor.” There seemed to be no response, so I repeated and added that it was an emergency and could she please get someone fast.

There was a click and a long stretch of white noise. I thought maybe I’d been disconnected, but a male voice came on the line and introduced himself as Barbara’s associate.

“She’s not in the office right now.”

“I figured that. You know her mother died quite suddenly yesterday.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry to give you the news. I know you’re busy. Last day of the week and I’m sure you’re under a steep deadline and all and this is not the news you need to hear. The circumstances of her mother’s death are … suspicious. And her son is missing too.”

“Oh my God. Oh God, she’s going to be devastated.”

“She is. She asked me to investigate. I was talking to her earlier and thought of something else I needed to ask her. I tried to reach her at home and on her cell, but there was no answer. I thought maybe she went to work to pick up papers to work on at home and maybe she has an unlisted number you might have.”

“Poor Barbara. I … don’t know what to say. When you talk to her, tell her to please give her my deepest …”

I wondered why he wasn’t going to call her himself.

“You say you know her pretty well?”

“But we haven’t worked together recently. You know, I think you ought to be speaking with someone in Human Resources. I shouldn’t be telling you this, I’m sure I shouldn’t but …”

“I know. Don’t worry, I feel like I grew up with you.” That line sometimes worked for me.

“Barbara’s been on a leave of absence for … I guess for three months or so. Since the beginning of the year.”

I felt a shoe drop right on my lower region. “Wow. Okay. She’s … she must be having some personal issues, maybe with her son?”

There was dead air on the other end.

So, okay, I was getting nowhere with this guy. “You have a name in Human Resources?”

He gave me the name of the Senior V-P of Human Resources but naturally, she wasn’t in. I asked to speak to her admin and told her who I was. She said she was the Senior V-P’s executive assistant and she’d be glad to have the office assistant ring me. Whoop-de-do. I knew I wasn’t going to get any more information out of that broad but some bad elf I was born with made me persist. I said I knew Barbara Simon was on a leave of absence from Faramond, Whitlock, Walker & Quentin and could she give me an expected date of return. She was sorry, but couldn’t divulge any information. She told me she’d be glad to take a message.

“At least she didn’t deny it,” I said when I got off the line.

“What are you talking about?” Cookie asked.

When I told them about my conversation, Cookie reminded me that I was talking to lawyers and what did I expect and Denny flashed me a look through the rear view mirror. “Did you deposit Barbara’s retainer?”

The rest of the trip was uneventful except for an hour’s delay on the turnpike. We had bets about what caused it and decided it was a toss up because we never could figure out whether it was the small accident we saw or traffic heading out to the shore. The light was an acidy color, the sky a sickening yellow, the sun hitting the pavement in waves undulating before our eyes and causing the double dark coffee and chocolate donut to stick in my throat. I stared for a while at the road.

“There’s an egret,” Cookie said as we passed the Meadowlands. The place was loaded with birds, all shapes and sizes, but most of them big and white. You can tell I’m not a bird watcher, but maybe I should be, good cover. I looked out over the marsh and saw carrion buzzing overhead, the rotting remains of a small fishing boat pulled up on one side, and white birds in a conclave standing on one leg.

Except for the Tom-Tom lady telling us to keep straight for the next forty-two miles, there was silence.

“I need a pit stop,” I said.

“Too late. Should have gone when we were home,” Denny said, watching the road.

“Me too,” Cookie said, “and I went when you were home.”

“Overruled,” Denny muttered, but seeing the sign announcing a service area in twelve miles, he asked if we could wait.

In order to get my mind off my bladder, I asked Cookie what she thought of Barbara, realizing as I asked the question that Cookie hadn’t met Barbara.

“Not bad for having lost her mother and son in one fell,” she said, chewing gum and looking out the window.

“How do you know? You never met her.”

“Oh, but I did when she was out in the yard and she was talking to one of the neighbors. One of them introduced us and I gave her my condolences.”

How had I missed that?

“And I talked to the neighbors. Most of them didn’t know her, but a few of them did. They told me she was a brat.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to give you my full report last night, but was interrupted, if you remember.”

Denny flashed me a rear view mirror look.

Cookie went on to say there were three different neighbors she interviewed who remembered Barbara from when she was in high school.

“She went to some private school in the Heights. I’d have to check my notes. One woman said she was very nice. Two said she was a brat and one of the two told me a babysitting horror story. She said when they came home, the house was a mess and the kids were, too. Apparently Barbara let the kids have the run of the place while she talked on the phone with her boyfriend all night.” Cookie handed me her notes and began filing her nails.