Suspicion of Murder

by G. K. Parks

  “Yo, Mr. Paps,” Sam called, “the woman from last night’s here. Alexis, right?” He turned around to double-check, and I nodded.

  “Why don’t you come to my office,” Ernie said, looking slightly flustered. “It’ll be quieter and easier to interview you.” I thanked Sam once again before taking a sip of my drink and placing a twenty on the bar. It was easy to be generous with someone else’s money.

  Once Ernie and I got upstairs, he scratched his nose and avoided eye contact. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, just dealing with some business. How may I help your investigation, Alexis?”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re in bed with people you really shouldn’t be involved with?” I took a seat, waiting for him to spill the beans.

  “I can promise you I’m not involved in any illegal activities.” He was agitated, maybe even afraid.

  Assessing him silently, I began to run through the few things I actually knew. First, Ernie made sure to keep drugs and hookers out. Second, there was something a bit fishy with the liquor supplier, and lastly, Mr. Well-Dressed might be a heavy hitter for one of the crime families. It would make sense why he needed to keep the cops outside the club. Personally, I hadn’t witnessed any illegal acts, but that didn’t mean this place wasn’t a front for money laundering.

  When the silence became too thick to take and I feared Ernie might have a coronary, I spoke. “Should I worry about getting my kneecaps busted?” He blanched but shook his head enthusiastically. “Good, and before you open your mouth, I need to instill upon you a very important fact. I do not want to know who you were talking to downstairs. The less I know, the better. Got it?”

  “Sure, no problem.” He actually looked relieved.

  “The reason for my visit was to get another look around and to check on your people. Furthermore, my guess is some place is going to get hit Saturday night. If it’s not Infinity, then I’d say you’re in the clear, and our business will be concluded. Understand?” Now that more complications were added to the mix, I didn’t want to stick around any longer than I had to.

  “Alexis, I have a question.” He had regained his composure. “What are you planning on doing Saturday night to stop it?”

  Rubbing my eyes, I blew out a breath. “I’m still working on it. Will your silent partners present any additional problems or issues I might need to be aware of? And remember, the less I know, the better.”

  “No problems. It’s my club, and I run it how I see fit. My financial backers like to see returns on their investment and offer constructive criticism, but it’s my show.” Poor delusional Ernie, the bastard really had no clue. Or he liked believing he was in charge. Either way, there was a potential shit storm in his future. “I don’t want to see this place get robbed blind, and I’m sure they don’t either. It’s not good for any business.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” I went to the wall and examined the painting before removing it and exposing the safe. “If I were to try to open this, how many alarms would I set off?”

  “None. But after five tries the system locks, and there is no way to open it without a reset code.” The schematics hadn’t been as explicit, but I studied the keypad for a few moments, noticing the slightly worn two and seven keys.

  “First off, you’re going to change the code on the safe. I can guess two of the numbers off the top of my head.” He looked skeptical, so I gave him what I had. “Then on Saturday night, before you head home, you’re going to empty out the safe. I don’t know how much cash you keep in there, and I don’t need to know. But unless you want to explain to your partners and the police how much was stolen, I’d suggest it not be there.” I scrutinized him. “Make sure you move it out in a normal bag. Maybe start carrying a duffel with you to work between now and then. Say you’ve been going to the gym or whatever.”

  He smiled happily and opened the cabinet under his wet bar. “I already do since I get changed in my office every night.”

  “Great. And make sure you deposit the money at the bank drop that night because if you think you’re going to create your own version of a heist to pull something over on me or the police, I’ll know, and my friends will know.”

  “I would never.” He was offended, but I ignored it.

  “Think of it as a friendly warning or a reminder, if you will.”

  Four

  The next day, Hoskins called to say thanks for being told how to do his job. Apparently, he didn’t think I was as brilliant and insightful as I thought I was. The police were already working the angles and checking into leads and suspects, and I was reminded not to step on any toes because, even though I had friends in major crimes, burglary thought I was a pain in the ass. You win some, and you lose some.

  Giving up on solving the previous four burglaries, I left my theories concerning the heists on the flipside of my whiteboard and examined Infinity’s weaknesses on the front. After concluding the most efficient and likely way to rob the place, I shifted back into research mode. There was no real basis to believe Infinity was going to get robbed late Saturday evening, but in the unlikely event it did, what was I going to do? Based on the heist model I created, I worked on devising my own game plan.

  Having no current law enforcement credentials, I wasn’t about to try to stop the culprits in the act. All I could do was keep an eye out, identify them, and if I felt particularly adventurous or suicidal, depending on my mood, I might try to delay them while waiting for the shining black and white cavalry to roll in and save the day.

  Picking up the phone, I dialed Mark to ask for advice. He suggested staying away from the mess and letting the real cops do their jobs, unless of course I wanted to be reinstated at the OIO. After reminding him this wasn’t a federal matter, he disconnected soon after.

  “Nick,” I called O’Connell hoping for his sage wisdom, “I’m between a rock and a hard place.”

  “How big is the rock?”

  “I have a client who’s hired me to thwart any attempts at a robbery, but I don’t believe the place is actually going to be robbed.”

  “Then tell him you did a great job and ask for a bonus.” He didn’t understand my dilemma.

  “What if I’m wrong? Do I stake out the place and apprehend the burglars or run from the scene screaming fire and hope someone calls the cops?”

  “Ah.” He finally understood. “You want to play sleuth with the burglary boys, and they don’t want you on their team.”

  “Maybe,” I grudgingly admitted, and he laughed at the absurdity.

  “Do the work you were hired to do and stop there. You don’t need to snoop around when you’re not wanted. I don’t have any friends upstairs who I can coerce to let you play with them. If you’re hard-pressed, the Bureau has something cooking that might be more up your alley.” Whatever was going on, both Nick and Mark were investigating. It had to be something big. Maybe I would check it out after I finished my waitressing gig.

  * * *

  Thursday morning, the ringing phone woke me. It was Martin Technologies, which never bode well. When I answered, vice president Luc Guillot requested my presence to discuss the standardized security protocols. Being a security consultant for MT and previous personal bodyguard to the CEO had afforded me a unique position at the company. While being kept on retainer and providing piecemeal advice here and there, I had caught the attention of Mr. Guillot, who put me in charge of the security overhaul the company was undertaking in order to ensure all branches had uniform hiring checks and procedures.

  Originally, Martin had been my boss, but once we became intimately involved, he relinquished security matters to his second in command. After agreeing to the meeting, the possibility for sleep became nonexistent. I dragged myself out of bed, relieved that the pertinent information was sent via e-mail. After showering and dressing, I flipped through the PDFs and PowerPoints, making notations as I went.

  At o
ne o’clock, I arrived at the MT building, greeted the security guard, and took the elevator to the top floor. My MT provided office was across the hallway from Martin and down the hall from Guillot, so it made sense to stop there and drop off my things. As I turned on the coffeemaker, Martin strode past my open doorway. He stopped and checked his watch before coming inside and shutting the door behind him.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He kissed me, which was completely inappropriate for work. “What’s going on?”

  “I have a meeting with Guillot and some security types on the upcoming project.”

  “Why can’t you ever just be here to see me?”

  “In case you don’t remember, every time I’ve been here to see you, it’s never been good.” I took a seat at my desk, expecting him to go back to work at any moment. Instead, he sat on the small couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Seriously, you need to stop being ridiculous.” Office romance was something I adamantly opposed, and he was doing this for his own twisted amusement. “Don’t you have a company to run?”

  “Actually, I’m going home for the day, but I might be persuaded to wait for you to finish before I go.” I gave him my no-nonsense look, and he got to the point. “We’re dealing with the Russians tomorrow morning, three a.m. to be exact. So since I’m going to be working all night, I get the afternoon off to rest and prepare. Want to rest with me?”

  “There wouldn’t be much resting involved,” my eyes glinted evilly, “but unfortunately, I’m booked for the day. Meeting here, then a quick bite while I review my notes, and last stop – training.”

  “Training?”

  “I’m waitressing now,” I deadpanned.

  “If money’s tight, I would have given you a loan. Just promise before you start selling your body, you’ll come to me first.”

  “Mr. Martin, I’d suggest you watch your tone, unless you want to deal with a sexual harassment lawsuit.” We enjoyed our banter and verbal sparring too much sometimes. He rolled his eyes and switched to something less playful.

  “What are we doing this weekend?”

  “Shit. I’m working nights.”

  “As a waitress?” His face fell. “Then we’re just going to have to work around our schedules.” When did he become so compromising and insistent on seeing me? “After you’re done here, we can get an early bird special somewhere, and I’ll watch you read your notes or whatever. Then tomorrow morning after my teleconference, we’ll…” His words were cut off by a knock at my door. He opened the door, smilingly warmly at Guillot. “Ms. Parker was just filling me in on the progress we’re making on our security endeavor,” Martin lied, hoping to keep our private relationship a secret. Guillot didn’t seem at all suspicious, but I couldn’t help wondering if he suspected there was something else going on.

  “We’re ready for you, Mademoiselle,” Guillot intoned in his French accent. “James, feel free to join us.”

  “No, I have some paperwork to read and the Kiev files to take home. I’m leaving everything in your trusted hands.” Martin walked out of the office, and I followed Guillot to a conference room down the hallway.

  After two and a half hours of excruciatingly boring detail and hashing out the finer nuances in emergency security measures, Guillot thanked everyone for their time and scheduled a follow-up meeting to be held in a month. At least I wouldn’t be bored senseless for the next few weeks. I went back to my office and looked at my untouched coffeepot. Filling my travel mug with the brewed contents, I grabbed my purse and locked my door, only to turn around and find Martin waiting for the elevator.

  “Ms. Parker,” he grinned, “funny running into you again.”

  “It’s almost as if it were fate. Or planned.” I looked at him pointedly, and he smirked as we waited for the doors to open. We remained professional as we exited the building and went to the parking garage.

  As I unlocked my car door, Martin leaned against my trunk. “I’m going home to change. Should I bring food over, or did you want to go out? You have homework, after all,” he said. The best thing would be if he went home and left me alone, but it would take more effort to argue with him then it would just to give in.

  “Pick up whatever you want. I’m going to stop by my office and grab some files, but I’ll meet you at my place in an hour. I have to be at work by seven.”

  He glanced at his watch. “See, this works out great.” His definition of great wasn’t very accurate, but I ignored it as we parted ways.

  * * *

  Martin brought over Indian food, and after we finished eating, I sat at my dining room table once again reviewing the employee files. No one seemed criminal or suspicious, and I was almost completely sure Infinity was not going to be robbed Saturday night. As Nick and Mark had insisted, I wasn’t responsible for figuring out what would be robbed, so the only thing left to do was determine where I was going to stake out the club after close.

  “Tomorrow morning, if all goes well, I should be done for the day by ten a.m. Want to get breakfast?”

  “At ten a.m., I will be asleep.” Martin was being clingier than usual, and we had been doing so well lately with just seeing each other on the weekends or for the occasional weeknight dinner if he was traveling for business or I was bogged down with work. “Why the sudden need to spend every moment together?”

  “Won’t this weekend be two months?” he asked.

  “Two months for what?” Now what the hell was he talking about?

  “Since you agreed to this. To us.”

  Two months already. On the one hand, it felt more like a year since it was a closer estimate of how long we’d known one another, and on the other hand, two months normally felt more suffocating than this. My internal clock hadn’t registered it’d been that long, maybe just a few weeks. But there was the possibility I was a commitment-phobe. Then again, Martin didn’t have a great track record for long-term relationships either.

  “Uh-huh. Right.”

  I went back to reviewing Sam’s personnel file. Still, nothing on any of the employees had set my radar buzzing. The backroom financier was driving me batty, but I didn’t need to get involved with a crime family. I liked my kneecaps and my life, and neither needed to be jeopardized.

  “Okay, so tomorrow, after my teleconference, I’ll crash at your place until you have to get up for work. Deal?”

  “Come on, it’s just two freaking months. You can go back to your castle and get some actual sleep. Probably by Sunday, I’ll be done with this job, and next weekend, we’ll do whatever you like. I’ll even spend the time at your place if you want.”

  “My castle,” Martin snickered, “does that make me king?” I glared at him. “I didn’t think so. Next weekend, I have a conference in Los Angeles. And who knows what you’ll be doing by the following weekend. By then, you might be opening up your own burger joint if this waitressing thing goes well.” Picking up a piece of scrap paper, I balled it up and threw it at him.

  “Fine. I’ll give you tomorrow until I have to go to work at seven. But I swear to god, if you don’t let me go back to sleep when you get here, I will hurt you.”

  He smiled happily, content in the belief he had won some great victory. I decided to let him believe it since he didn’t need to know I wanted to spend time with him too. Emotional attachments were easily exploited weaknesses, but they were also important tethers to keep the world from turning into a completely merciless and disenchanted mess.

  Five

  My first night waitressing turned out better than I ever expected. Not only did I manage not to spill anyone’s drink, but I also walked away with a couple hundred dollars in tips. There was a possibility I would deduct my earnings from Ernie’s fee, but it would depend on how the next two days went. In between shouting orders to Sam and the two other bartenders, Barry and Brian, I noticed Mindy and Gretchen huddled in the corner, talking or taking breaks together. Unfortunately, I was never close enough to hear what was going on.

  My shift ended when the bar cl
osed at four a.m. By five, we had cleaned the entire place and restocked all the glasses and bottles for tomorrow night. The three bartenders and four other waitresses decided we should celebrate a job well done by going out to breakfast.

  Over eggs and waffles, I got to know everyone’s back story. Barry and Brian were brothers who had worked for Ernie for the last six months and loved bartending. They had moved from Miami, and their mother’s brother-in-law was Ernie’s uncle. Family connections were daunting enough, but it was just another example of who you know and not what you know.

  The four waitresses were pleasant, but I found Tina and Mary to be easily relatable. They were women working odd jobs while supporting their families or going to school. Mary was writing her thesis on some type of applied physics theory which was over my head, but the waitressing gig was paying the bills until she got a science job. Tina was married and had a business degree, but until she could find a more permanent position, the tips were supporting her and her husband. Gretchen was an immigrant from Germany, waitress by night and nanny by day. Mindy was the oblivious type, and I wondered how she managed to interact with her co-workers when they had nothing in common. She was sweet, but she might have suffered a serious blow to the head during her formative years. The more time I spent with my co-workers, the more confident I became that Infinity was not going to be knocked over. None of them were evil criminal masterminds.

  Bidding the group good night, I got back to my apartment a little before seven. I had only been asleep for two hours when the constant knocking dragged me out of bed. It better be Martin because if it were a salesman or a religious zealot, a homicide would take place in the hallway.

  “We made the Kiev deal,” Martin said excitedly, pulling me close for a kiss. I stared at him, unimpressed with anything that wasn’t a pillow, and locked the door behind him. “We should celebrate.”