“Naw. I’ve called her a couple of times. Too soon to go see her. It’s not in the plan.” He tapped the side of his head with his index finger. I guess he meant the plan was stored up there. Let’s hope it didn’t have too many parts to it.
I reached into the Hugs jar and pulled out a few of the foiled wrapped candies. I took one and handed the other two to Tony. While we busied ourselves with the candy, I came up with my next question.
“So you knew Robert from here?”
Not brilliant, but all I had at the moment.
“Yeah, we were all in group together. First it was Anna and me and some others. Then O’Malley started coming. And coming on to Anna. I warned her he was married, but she’s no good with men. She always picks losers. Know what I mean?” He quirked his brow at me.
Boy, did I know what he meant.
I was staring right at one.
“She dumped me the week after they met. I even went to see his wife to see if she could do something about the situation.”
That was a newsflash. So Edna had firsthand knowledge that Robert was cheating on her. “And how did Mrs. O’Malley react?”
“React? That dame has ice water running through her veins. No heart, if you know what I mean. She said that O’Malley had had his little indiscretions before. Yeah, that’s what she called them, little indiscretions. Said men will be men. When I told her that this time it was different, that I knew Anna and her effect on us guys, the O’Malley broad just gave me a tight-lipped smile. And shut the door in my face.”
Interesting. “What did you do then?”
“What do you think? I went to see O’Malley at his work and told him to stay away from Anna. That partner of his heard us arguing and told me if I didn’t leave he was going to call the cops.”
“Partner?” Why didn’t I know about the partner? Sheesh!
“Some guy named Ancarrow. O’Malley always bragged about the business and what a genius his partner was with the details, but he considered himself the real backbone of the business because of his money savvy. More like his gambling savvy.” Tony snickered. “The guy had balls, I’ll give him that. In group, he admitted he owed the mob at least 200 large.”
I blinked several times in rapid succession. The mob? In conservative Richmond? Unbelievable.
Loan sharks, sure. I knew all about them thanks to my ex-SOB-husband.
But $200,000 in debt? What if Jack had been into the mob for that much?
I sat, fighting not to hyperventilate at the idea. I pushed the thought aside. No time to dwell on that. I had to pursue the conversation before Marcy got back and spirited Tony into her inner sanctum for his session.
“Mob? I hate to sound naïve but aren’t you being a bit….”
Tony shook his head.
“Hey, I’ve played the ponies and done some cards in my time, but nothing that would put me on the mob’s radar. I’m not stupid.”
I was thinking that still might be up for debate, but I pushed forward. “The mob? Here in town?”
Tony smiled at me, obviously happy that he knew something that I didn’t. “Yessiree. Right here in River City.” He used our town’s nickname, the one it earned by being divided in half by the James River.
“The Russians,” he added in a whisper and looked around almost as if he expected one of them to miraculously appear just by speaking the word.
“The Russians!” I yelped.
“Shh! Keep your voice down.” He leaned forward in the chair, and I had to lean across my desk to hear.
“You never know where or when they’ll turn up.”
Russians?
Preposterous. Tony Rossi was obviously delusional. He just hid his symptoms better than others. There was no Russian mob in Richmond. I’d know if there were. I mean, it would be on television and in the papers. Wouldn’t it? I was just about to pursue this line of questions when Marcy waltzed into the waiting room.
“Sorry I’m a tad late, Tony. I hope our Becca kept you entertained.”
More like he’d been keeping me entertained, or informed.
“Come in, Tony, and let’s see what’s going on with you today.” And with that he disappeared behind closed doors with Marcy. Let’s hope she could help him sort out reality.
Russian mob, my aunt Martha. I mean, I actually knew a Russian. Max Chernov. Polite. Handsome. Courtly. Sexy. Damn sexy.
He was no more a mob guy than I was.
Poor Tony. Dumped and delusional.
Chapter 12
Finished with the alumni stuff for Marcy, I attacked the backlogged billing with a vengeance.
Today was bank day. That meant I needed to leave early to make the practice’s bank deposit. Pulling out a deposit slip from the locked cabinet, I tallied up the money we’d taken in from insurance and copayments and posted it to the accounts. All manually. Daley & Palmer had not progressed into the 21st century yet. The lack of computer equipment and the latest bells and whistles just served to remind me of two things: how new the firm was - and how tenuous their position in the community, especially with an unsolved murder linked to their name.
The deposit confirmed what I already knew. Cash flow had taken a serious dip this week. If it hadn’t been for two nice insurance checks, the copays wouldn’t have made a blip on the radar screen. I’d been so caught up in non-practice work for the psychiatrists and trying to stay busy so I wouldn’t think about poor Mr. O’Malley, that I hadn’t stopped to figure out how much our numbers had declined. I flipped back over the week’s schedule and counted patients. Down by at least 50 percent.
That was it. My discussion with Marcy led me to believe I had a good chance of keeping this job. But if the practice didn’t make it financially because of the murder, my position would be history. To save the practice, I had to find out who killed Robert O’Malley. And I’d better do it quick.
I pulled out a sheet of paper and jotted down what I knew so far. And then added all that Tony Rossi had told me today. Lots of information. Whether it was true or not, I’d have to find out. Russians, gambling debts, and jilted lovers – I had my work cut out for me. The logical place to start would be with something concrete – something I knew existed – like Robert O’Malley’s firm and his partner. I pulled out the phone book and found the listing for O’Malley and Ancarrow. On my way back from the bank, I’d have to pay a visit to Mr. Ancarrow and see what I could learn.
Glancing at the closed doors to both psychiatrists’ offices, I wrote a note to let them know that I’d left to make the deposit and run some errands. They didn’t need to know where those errands would ultimately take me.
The office of O’Malley & Ancarrow surprised me. Not that I particularly expected anything in particular. The firm was situated in a trendy, upscale part of the far West End of Richmond, out toward the new Short Pump Towne Center mall, amid all of the booming real estate that carried exclusive addresses and high price tags.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I surveyed the building and grounds. This place had to be costing Robert a fortune. Okay, not Robert any more, but his partner, Ancarrow. I gazed at the slate roof and identified the structure as one of those colonial types that housed businesses but were meant to resemble homes. A lawn as plush as any golf course’s 18th green and well-tended landscaping contributed to curb appeal and understated elegance. I guess the marketing concept here was to make the clients feel more comfortable, more at home.
Neither the building nor the sign attached to it offered any clue as to what services O’Malley & Ancarrow provided. Hmm…interesting.
Wiping my feet on the doormat, I turned the polished brass doorknob. The tastefully decorated reception area reminded me of Edna’s home, and I wondered if she’d had a hand in the office’s appearance or if the same designer had done both.
“May I help you?”
A man in his late 40s or early 50s appeared from one of the private offices off of the reception area.
Distinguished, with thick brown hair
and gray eyes, his blue oxford cloth shirt opened at the neck. Navy Dockers and a pair of new looking Topsiders completed his work attire. Very casual and it wasn’t even Friday. But there didn’t seem to be any clients around to dress up for, or even a receptionist, for that matter.
“Hi, Becca Reynolds,” I said, extending my hand. He gave me a handshake that would pass my granddad’s manly men test.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Reynolds?” His smile appeared warm and genuine. I liked him.
“Actually, I’m here to discuss your partner, Robert O’Malley.” I gave him my best smile.
His face clouded over.
He indicated the front door with a swift sweep of his arm. I looked back over my shoulder to see if anyone had come in behind me before I realized this was his way of asking me to leave.
“Just a few questions…”
“I have nothing to say to reporters. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m very busy.” He turned his back on me and retreated to his office.
I followed close on his heels. “I’m not a reporter.”
He stopped and turned back, almost colliding with me before I could put on the brakes. “I still have nothing to say to you. Please leave.”
I touched the sleeve of his shirt gently. “Just a few minutes of your time is all I ask.”
When he shook his head no and started back into the office, I stayed where I was and called out, “But I found his body.”
That brought him up short.
His shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly turned to face me once again. “Five minutes, Ms. Reynolds. It’s all I can spare. I’m sure you can understand why.”
He proceeded into his private office and took a seat behind a massive mahogany desk with a huge computer setup. Three screens. They reminded me of the tri-fold mirrors in dressing rooms. Papers littered the desk. I could see I was interrupting something important. I took a seat in one of the chairs across from Ancarrow’s desk.
A very comfortable chair, I might add.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
I quit feeling the upholstery and reminded myself to get down to business.
“You and Mr. O’Malley were partners?” The simplicity of my question seemed to relax Mr. Ancarrow, and he smiled at me. I guess with that brilliant piece of deductive reasoning I’d convinced him I wasn’t a reporter.
“Yes, we were.” He folded his hands on his desk and waited for my next brilliant question.
“Did you know he had a gambling problem?”
Ancarrow shot to his feet.
“I think you should leave.”
Wow, talk about your hot buttons.
He came around the desk and took my upper arm in his hand and lifted me to my feet. Hmmm…surprisingly strong for a computer guy. “Okay, forget I asked that. You said five minutes and I haven’t even had one.” That’s right, I told myself, dazzle him with my logic and the fact that I could tell time.
He released my arm. “Who are you?” His eyes narrowed and he looked me over suspiciously. Couldn’t say I blamed him.
I pulled out my driver’s license and extended it to him. “Becca Reynolds. I’m the office manager for Daley & Palmer.” I stretched my current title with the firm because I needed clout with this guy. “Mr. O’Malley was one of our patients. As I said before, I found his…his body.” I still had a hard time saying it and every time I did, the whole scene played in my head like a Technicolor movie. Definitely STD. Okay, PTSD.
Trust me, an STD would almost be preferable.
“Why are you here, Ms. Reynolds?” he asked like he couldn’t wait to give me the other four minutes he’d promised and be done with me.
“I’m looking into his death.”
Uh-oh. Where did that come from? I hadn’t meant to reveal that. I must learn to filter what I said.
Ancarrow did a double take.
“Who sent you here?” he asked as he handed my license back to me.
“No one. I came on my own. You see, I need some answers, and I think you can help me.”
“Do you now?”
“I’m a friend of Edna’s and I think she’s been wrongly accused of his murder. I want to help.” I smiled at him sweetly.
When I mentioned Edna’s name, Ancarrow’s expression softened. “How is she holding up? I’ve been meaning to go by and see her.”
“She’s wearing a drab gray jumpsuit courtesy of the county, how do you think she’s doing?” Again I reminded myself that I needed to learn how to interview people without insulting them or raising their hackles. Fairy dust only went so far. Still, this direct approach sucked. I hastened to add, “She’s doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances.”
There, that was better and seemed to satisfy Mr. Ancarrow. He nodded his head in understanding.
“Whatever she needs, I’ll be happy to help. I know Edna has money, but these defense lawyers can charge a fortune. If money is a problem, or anything else for that matter, tell her I’m there for her.”
Wow, I should have mentioned Edna up front. “You’ve known her a long time?”
He smiled, and his shoulders relaxed even more. “Ever since Robert and I went into partnership, fifteen years ago.”
Now we were getting some place.
“What does O’Malley & Ancarrow do?” I asked, getting back to basics and staying away from anything to do with Robert’s gambling problem.
“We design and sell computer software.”
“I had no idea Mr. O’Malley was a computer geek.” Oops. “Not that you’re a geek.” Shut up, I told myself. “I just didn’t peg Mr. O. for high tech stuff.” Better.
Ancarrow grinned despite my name-calling. “Robert was the salesman. I’m the geek of the partnership.”
“Oh.” I made a mental note to stop by Barnes & Noble and buy a book on interview techniques before I tried this with anyone else.
“It’s okay. I’ve been called worse. But as you can see, we’re quite successful, so I guess the last laugh is on my detractors.”
Ouch, that had to include me.
I started to apologize, but he stopped me with an upraised hand.
“It’s alright. I get it a lot. It doesn’t bother me.” He checked the gold watch on his wrist. My time was almost up.
“Tony Rossi told me that he came here to see Mr. O. I know about the argument.” I let the words hang there in the air between us.
Ancarrow shrugged. “If you know about it, then what do you want from me?”
“I’d like your version.”
“I don’t see how this discussion is going to help Edna.”
He handled this dialogue-interview thing much better than I did. At least he didn’t say what I knew he must be thinking. That he didn’t think I could help Edna. Still, if I wanted any shot at keeping the doors to Daley & Palmer open, I had to convince him to tell me what he knew.
“Please Mr. Ancarrow. I’m working with Edna’s attorney, Jack Davis.” Okay, blatant lie. But he seemed to believe me, because he settled back into his chair.
“Some fellow—this Tony Rossi—came to see Robert. There were words about a woman. Rossi accused Robert of taking her away from him.” Ancarrow’s tone saddened and he avoided direct eye contact. When he finally raised his head and met my gaze, I could see the pain in his eyes. “Robert is—was—a philanderer. I don’t know how Edna put up with his escapades all of these years. She would have been smart to toss him out long ago.
I guess their marriage is a true testament to the saying, ‘love is blind.’”
So he knew Robert cheated on Edna. And he knew Anna hadn’t been the first “other woman”. Interesting. I waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, I asked, “What ensued during this meeting between Mr. O. and Tony?”
Ancarrow let out his breath and put his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. “The usual. Accusations. Demands. A little pushing and shoving. Nothing I haven’t witnessed more times than I’d like to remember.”
> “Do you think Tony was angry enough to harm Mr. O.?”
“Couldn’t say. In the heat of the moment you never know what people may do. I stepped in and asked Rossi to leave before I called the police. He said a few parting words and it was over.”
I thought back to what Tony had told me about the Russian mob and two hundred large. I had to take the conversation there even though I knew I wasn’t going to get much more out of Robert’s partner.
“What do you know about any Russians that Mr. O. may have associated with?” I phrased that really well. No mention of mob or gambling.
“No one comes to mind right off. I guess I could check the client list. Robert handled that end of the business.” He tapped some keys on the computer and studied one of the screens. His right hand worked the mouse. “No, no Slavic sounding names in the client base. I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”
“I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral or Edna’s afterwards. I’d think as Mr. O’Malley’s partner you would have attended.”
“I guess I blend into the crowd, Ms. Reynolds. I was at both. I witnessed the sad spectacle of that young woman, obviously inebriated, who made a scene at the O’Malley’s home. Now that you bring it up, I do remember you. You were there with an older gentleman. Correct?”
Well, he had me there.
No one ever forgot Granddad. Me, I blended into the background unless I made a social faux pas of some kind, but my granddad was known for talking about sex, politics and religion, no matter what the function. His strong viewpoints made for a memorable impression. I stood up realizing that I’d probably learned all I could. “Thank you for your time.”
Ancarrow came around the desk to show me to the door. I opened it and stepped into the sunshine, then turned back. What the heck. Go for broke.
“You reacted quite strongly to my earlier question about Mr. O.’s gambling. Why is that?” I shielded my eyes with my hand as I looked into Ancarrow’s face.
“I had no idea who you were, Ms. Reynolds. My partner is dead. He had weaknesses. Gambling was one of them. Since you work for Daley & Palmer, you know about his problems. I see no need to discuss them. Good day.”
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