The refrigerator door sucked open. Ice cubes rattled into glasses. The door slammed shut. Bottle caps clattered on tile. A few moments later, Jennifer came back into the living room carrying a tray that held glasses full of ice, two open Perrier bottles, and, astonishingly, a plate of enormous chocolate-chip cookies. She set the tray down on the coffee table, knelt gracefully, and poured a measure of Perrier into Willows’ and then Oikawa’s glasses.
Willows said, “Thank you.”
She offered him the plate. It was decorated with a circle of naked men in a state of arousal pursuing naked women with outstretched arms. Since all the men and all the women were identical in every respect, and there was nothing to choose between them, it was impossible to say if the women were running away from the men behind them, or hurrying towards the men directly in front of them.
Willows said, “No, thanks.”
“You don’t like sweets? Watching your weight?” She picked up a cookie and held it up to him as if he were a child. Willows stood his ground. She pressed the cookie gently against his mouth. Her lips parted. She teasingly whispered, “Have a bite, Jack. Just one bite won’t kill you.”
Willows took a small bite of cookie.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jennifer’s eyes were bright. She held his eyes as she took a sensuous, overlapping bite of the cookie. Her pink tongue flicked an invisible crumb from her upper lip. She chewed and swallowed, and then helped herself to a drink from Willows’ glass. “Mmm, yummy.” She turned to Oikawa with a pleasant, meaningless smile. “I forgot all about you, didn’t I, Dan. Would you like a cookie?”
“Yeah, I would.” Oikawa helped himself to the largest cookie on the plate. He gave Willows a twisted smile, and Willows knew that his fellow officers would be calling him “Chip,” and mock-seductively asking him if he wanted a “cookie” for months or maybe even years to come.
Michael Hughes had indicated to Willows that Jennifer Orchid earned a heavy dollar. Willows believed every penny of it. He decided to slip into his all-business and nothing-but-business persona. Despite his recent problems with Claire, he considered himself a reasonably happily married man. He planned to stay happily married, no matter what. He sipped at his Perrier and said, “How did you meet Colin?”
“At a party. Michael Hughes introduced us.”
“Colin’s business partner?”
“That’s the one.” Jennifer gracefully sat on the carpet in front of Willows, her long legs tucked beneath her. She was so close that she could have rested her head on his knee. Looking up at him, she said, “Michael and I were dancing, and Colin walked by. Michael called him over and introduced him. He cut in, we danced, and he told me he’d like to take me out to dinner. I told him he wasn’t my type. He laughed and said I was wrong, that I was exactly his type, and he didn’t care how much it cost. I asked him if Michael had been talking out of turn. He told me he’d known what kind of woman I was the moment he saw me.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No, of course not.”
“Do you know why Michael would have wanted you to meet Colin?”
“i’ve no idea”
“But you arranged to meet him again … ”
Jennifer thought for a moment. She said, “Colin liked to be seen in the company of beautiful women. In a relatively short time, he became very fond of me. I’ve found it wise not to allow relationships to deteriorate to the point where they become … personal. I don’t mean to seem callous, or even overly protective. Things can get awfully messy awfully fast. You’d be surprised.”
Willows doubted it, but didn’t say anything.
Jennifer said, “To tell you the truth … I know he’s dead and everything, but when it comes right down to it, I didn’t like Colin.”
“Why not?”
“How much time have you got? Colin’s one of the few people i’ve met who didn’t have a single redeeming characteristic. He could be absolutely vicious, the way he treated people. He was easily the most cold-hearted bastard I ever met, and i’ve met more than my fair share of bastards.” Jennifer tilted her head and smiled up at Willows. He didn’t understand the smile, or what it meant.
He said, “Can you be more specific about Colin’s shortcomings?” She shrugged, and looked away.
Willows said, “Colin give you the mouse?”
“Excuse me?”
“The black eye.” Willows hadn’t thought at first that Jennifer wore makeup, but as she’d talked about her ex-lover, he had noticed a faint smear of darkness beneath her left eye. He said, “Did Colin hit you?”
Oikawa sneezed forcefully into a handful of Kleenex. He blew his nose, and apologized.
Jennifer and Willows both ignored him. Jennifer said, “No, Colin never hit me, not once. I’m not into that kind of scene.”
“Somebody hit you. Who was it?”
“I’d rather not say. Are you about done?”
Oikawa brushed crumbs from his lap, and made as if to stand up. Willows said, “Hold it, Dan.” To Jennifer he said, “No, we’re not done. In fact, we’re just getting started. We’re investigating a high-profile murder. Your name came up. You’ve just called Colin McDonald the meanest, most cold-hearted bastard you ever met. He punched you, didn’t he?”
“And then what, I lost my temper and killed him?”
“Is that what happened?”
“No, it isn’t. I walked into a door.”
“Have you got a pimp, Jennifer?”
“Of course not.” Her mood brightened. She rested her hand on his knee. “Do I look like the sort of woman who’d spend her time lurking on a street corner, waiting for traffic?”
Willows said, “No, of course not.” He lifted Jennifer’s hand off his knee. “Where were you the other night?”
“I had a date, an all-nighter. I met him at his hotel. We had dinner in the hotel restaurant and then went up to his room. We had an early breakfast, and then he left for the airport. That was a few minutes past six. I caught a taxi home.”
“Who were you with?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
Jennifer said, “One of my most important qualities is discretion. I have a phone book, and calendar, but everything’s written in code. No names, just numbers. My date is an MP. A Member of Parliament. He’s married and has several lovely children. He counts on me, he pays me to be discreet. I am not going to let him down.”
“You’d rather go to jail?”
“If I gave you his name, it would ruin my career. I’ve been working for eight long years, Jack, ever since I was seventeen. I think of my career as roughly equivalent to that of any other professional athlete — short but highly lucrative. When I started in the business, I hoped to be able to retire by my thirtieth birthday. I have a client list that’s second to none, and I’m right on schedule. But if I rolled over on a john, everything I’d worked so hard for would be destroyed.” She locked eyes with Willows. “You know as well as I do that, in my profession, there’s no room for error. You’re a handsome guy, Jack, and I know we could be friends. But I’m not going to risk ending up on the street, turning tricks at ten bucks a pop, just to make you happy. You want to put me at the top of your suspect list, that’s fine with me.”
She gave his thigh a quick squeeze and stood up. “i’ve had a wonderful time talking to you, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and I mean right this minute.”
Willows reluctantly stood. Jennifer walked him and Oikawa to the door. As they stepped outside, she touched his arm and said, “Wait just a minute.” She slid open a closet door. A small black patent-leather evening bag hung from a brass hook. She fished around in the purse for a moment, and then handed Willows a shiny white card with embossed lettering in elegant dark blue type. As she gave him the card, her fingers closed around his thumb. Before he could react, she tugged gently, and gave him a seductive look that told him she knew exactly what she was doing and how it had affected him. On
ly then did she let go.
“That’s my lawyer’s card, Jack. If you feel the need to talk to me again, give him a call.”
Willows slipped the card into his pocket. He tried to think of something brilliant to say. Or if not brilliant, at least clever. He was still working on it when Oikawa was seized by another extended fit of sneezing. The door clicked shut behind him.
Willows stepped off the porch and moved a few paces to his right, so Oikawa was standing downwind.
*
All that glitters
Aldo Huff s smile lit up the booth. He swivelled his overly large head from Jan to Sandy and back to Jan. He chuckled, the sound of his good humour hard-edged as pebbles rattling in a jar. “We can’t pay you anywhere near sixty per cent of the original wholesale value of the diamonds. Even thirty per cent would be a ridiculously generous offer. Twenty-five is our best offer, take it or leave it.” His dark hand crawled across the table towards his drink, a highball glass full of V-8 juice garnished with a length of asparagus.
“Fifty,” said Jan.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Fifty-five.”
“Alright then, thirty.”
“Sixty.”
“That’s preposterous! Thirty-five.”
The server had appeared at their booth while they were still seating themselves. Jan had ordered a cranberry martini, Sandy a Budweiser, Aldo the V-8 and spear of asparagus. The server had cocked her hip. “Asparagus?”
“If you have it,” said Aldo, bleaching her with his huge smile. They were in the bar in the Hotel Vancouver. It was a pleasant, open, carpeted area three steps up from the marble-tiled lobby. You could sit there, have a drink, enjoy the canned music, feel expansive and vaguely exclusive as you watched people come and go. If you kept your eyes open, you might spot a passing movie star. Aldo loved the place. He knew that the hotel’s restaurant was just around the corner, and that the asparagus would not be a problem.
Aldo drank some more V-8 juice. He sighed, and licked his lips. “I know you don’t mean to be unreasonable,” he said to Jan. “You must understand that my expenses are shockingly high. Quite staggeringly enormous, actually. And the risk … I shudder to think of it. If I was arrested, I would go to jail for a very long time. Who knows how short a man’s life may be?”
Sandy said, “All I know is that life’s too short to act like life’s too short.”
Jan laughed, but Aldo wasn’t amused. His brow rumpled. He said, “I have no personal experience, but am told by reliable sources that prison is a terrible place. The food is poison. One’s fellow prisoners are sex deviants and other undesirables, some of them quite violent.”
“That’s probably true,” said Jan. “I mean, if I was in charge, prison’s where I’d put people who belonged there.”
Sandy said, “No, a first offence, white-collar crime, if you got jail time, it’d be in a minimum-security prison. Horses, golf, lattes. It wouldn’t be so bad.”
Aldo stroked his beard. “You speak from personal experience, Sandy?”
“Reliable sources. Cons i’ve known.”
Aldo nodded. He said, “Think of it. Ordinary people like me, who made a terrible mistake and are suddenly no longer referred to by their God-given names, but by the simple generic ‘cons.’” He took a bite of asparagus, and chewed furiously. “I don’t want to be a con. What a horror that would be!”
Jan said, “Now, now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Aldo nodded, and lapsed into a moody silence. Their server drifted by. Sandy ordered another Bud.
Jan said, “You hardly touched the one you got.”
“Just watch me. Want another martini?”
“I prefer to stay sober, thank you very much.”
“Aldo — another V-8?”
Aldo roused himself. “Why not? Live a little, isn’t that the idea? Have fun, because who knows what disaster tomorrow may bring.”
“It’s going to be sunny all week,” said their server. “Highs in the mid-eighties, if you can believe it.”
Aldo smiled politely. He waited until she was out of earshot and then said, “Are you sure you can pull it off, just the two of you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jan. “Anyway, there’s three of us.”
“Who is the other person?”
“The kind of guy you don’t want to know.”
“Three of you can do this thing?”
“Working in concert,” said Sandy, “as one man.” He blew Jan a kiss and added, “So to speak.”
Aldo said, “The math is true, but at the same time … ”
“No buts,” said Sandy, in a voice like iron. Jan stared at him, not much short of amazed. He reached under the table and gave her knee a quick, reassuring squeeze. “The thing is,” he said to Aldo, “we do all the dirty work. By the time we knock on your door, it’s all over, the risky part’s done.”
“No violence,” said Aldo.
Their drinks arrived. Aldo said, “What did you say was in your martini?”
“Cranberry juice,” said Jan.
“It’s a beautiful colour.”
“Thank you.”
“But I would like to know about this other person. The one I haven’t met.”
Sandy said, “Jan’s ex-husband just got out of the slammer. His name’s Harvey. He needs work, so we took him on. Don’t worry, it isn’t just a family-values thing. The guy’s a driver. Lots of experience, and he’s as reliable as a thief can be.”
“You have a getaway car?”
“What did you think, we’d catch the number-five bus? Harvey stays down on the street, with an FRS radio.”
Aldo worriedly drained his V-8. He said, “I don’t know what FRS is. A gun that zaps a person with electricity, perhaps?”
Sandy said, “No, an FRS is like a walkie-talkie, except more powerful. You can get them at Radio Shack, wherever … ”
“Yes, yes.” Aldo waggled his fingers. He said, “Forty per cent of value. That’s my best offer.”
Sandy looked into Jan’s eyes. She bit her lower lip and then nodded almost imperceptibly.
Sandy said, “Tell you what, we’ll split it down the middle, fifty-fifty. How does that sound?”
“Forty,” said Aldo. He tilted his glass to his lips. His tongue probed for the last few drops of V-8 juice.
Sandy said, “Yeah, okay. Fine.”
They shook on it. Aldo held Sandy’s hand a fraction too long. A wayward drop of V-8 juice glinted in his beard like a red diamond.
Sandy paid cash for the drinks. Aldo hadn’t touched his second glass of V-8 juice. He said he’d stay and finish it, if that was all right. Sandy and Jan pushed back their chairs. As they walked away from the table, Sandy folded the bar bill in half and slipped it into his wallet.
Chapter 14
Hatchlings
Aldo sat quietly in his upholstered chair until Jan and Sandy had passed from view. He nibbled on his fresh drink’s asparagus stalk, then tilted his body slightly for a better look out the window towards the street. After a few moments, his two would-be partners in crime walked briskly past.
Aldo pushed aside his V-8 juice. He caught his server’s eye, and waved her over. She was a delicious redhead, very classy. Her name tag said Brenda. He ordered a double Johnny Walker Black, straight up. He was a lapsed Muslim and would freely admit, if he was pressed, that there were times when he sorely missed his religion. But never when he was drinking. He couldn’t believe he had lived the first thirty-four years of his life without Rolling Rock beer, Wild Turkey on the rocks, gin fizzes, and Johnny Walker Black Label. Soon he would try a cranberry martini. He’d never had a martini, despite his fondness for James Bond films. His Scotch arrived. He told Brenda he would have another. She smiled and nodded and headed for the bar. He drank half the Scotch down, drained the rest of the glass into his mouth, and swirled the liquor around, flooded his pallet and energetically sucked the alcohol through the large gaps between his teeth.
&
nbsp; He was halfway through his third double when Jackie, his handsome-but-foolish younger brother, joined him. Jackie wore a black double-breasted suit that was heavily padded in the shoulders. His wide black leather belt had a heavy silver-plated buckle in the shape of a pistol. Perhaps it really was a pistol. His bright red cowboy boots had spurs that jingled.
Aldo said, “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Am I late? Never mind, don’t tell me. I must be late, because I always am. Always. It’s an annoying habit. Why don’t I do something about it? How should I know?”
“Stop talking to yourself.” Brenda drifted over to their table. Aldo asked her for a glass of water for himself and a Coke for his brother.
“Rum and Coke,” said Jackie.
Aldo shook his head. “No, he’s only teasing. He is a devout Muslim. Alcohol is a poison to him.”
“My body is a temple,” said Jackie. He gave Brenda a mock-bawdy wink. “And my temple is your body.” He laughed. “I don’t really know what that means, actually.”
Brenda moved away, towards the bar.
Jackie said, “Don’t leave me, girl!” He glanced at Aldo. “Don’t stare at me like that, Aldo. It’s terrifying. You give me the frightened shivers.”
“How did your afternoon go? Was it educational?”
“Yes, very. Jan didn’t want to give me Sandy’s address, but I convinced her I was just being cautious, and meant him no harm.”
A Cloud of Suspects Page 16