by Kira Reese
After Angelina regained composure, she introduced me to several others close to her father in his business. After interviewing each separately, nothing seemed amiss. Two were aware he was missing but had no idea where he could be. The other three were unaware of his absence and suggested he had simply taken off somewhere on his own.
One said he did that on occasion, since his work was intense. “It is his way of getting relief sometimes,” she said.
I asked her what her position was. She told me she was the assistant to his right-hand man, Jackson, who spent the most one-on-one time with Mr. Grey. I spoke with Jackson, who appeared to be visibly shaken with the news that his boss was truly missing.
“Do you take care of paying his bills?” I asked Jackson.
“I pay his personal bills. Our accounting department handles all business transactions. Everything personal is taken care of, and there is nothing overdue.”
Jackson searched my face for approval. “Do you know of any place he may have gone to get away?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I can give you a list of his favorite spots. But Angelina knows those, as well. I take it that you have contacted people from his getaways.”
I reassured Jackson that I had done my work, though not in cryptic words. The fact remained that Thornton Grey had vanished. I had to find out whether he was alive or dead. He had connections across the globe. The task ahead was daunting. I returned to my office and back to the drawing board, so to speak.
Chapter 7
Deep Waters
James Butler edged into my mind again. I dialed his cell number that he provided me.
“Do you know if Mr. Grey had any specific enemy right here in New York?” I asked him.
“Miss McCauley, I will meet with you and tell you everything,” he said.
I breathed a deep sigh. Perhaps looking outside America would not be necessary. We agreed to meet at a secluded café located midway between us. When I came in from the direct sunlight I had to adjust to the sudden darkness. A hostess led me to the corner table for two where James Butler sat waiting. By now, I realized the café was not so dark. The sunlight contrasted enough to make it appear that way at first.
I did not usually drink anything strong while working. In front of him was a bottle of white wine he apparently had already approved. He poured me a glass without asking my preference. I may need this, I thought, giving in to my custom of not drinking while on a case.
“Miss McCauley, I do know much more about Thornton and his business methods than I have let on. I was out of place throwing any blame on Angelina. She is greedy, but as you pointed out, she is wealthy enough without wanting more.” He took a drink of wine. “Angelina is the only child of Thornton, and he spoils her. She is very close to him.”
I nodded in agreement. “What are you here to tell me that I don’t already know?”
“You are right. I should get to the point of calling you from your work. Thornton got himself into some very shady dealings that had nothing to do with the ship building business.” I leaned forward. “He found out how deep, and he confided in me. He liked to gamble and was a high roller. He seemed to always come out on top. To say the man was lucky is a lame way to put it. He never, or rarely, lost. He knew when to leave the table and was smart that way.”
His eyes wandered to the street traffic outside.
“The one time he lost, he played against a strong-armed man in the gambling venue. Thornton told me he knew the man had cheated, and he let him know it. This man was not one to let things go. For the first time in my life, I saw Thornton truly fear for his life. He asked me to take the money he owed the gambler and pay him off on his behalf. That’s how scared he was.”
“Did you meet with the cheater?” I asked.
“I told him I was there to pay Thornton’s debt to him. He sneered and said Thornton owed him much more than that. I told him I had no idea what he meant and was there to simply pay what Thornton told me he owed.”
Great, I thought, now I had to hunt down a mafia-like gambler who held something over Thornton Grey’s head. It was, according to James, more than a gambling debt.
“What is his name, and where can I find him?” I asked.
James Butler stared at me. I didn’t know much about casinos and high rollers, but I had to find Thornton Grey.
“I don’t know his name,” he said. “I was directed by Thornton to go to a certain man found at the door of the ‘members only’ room and then a second one, names unknown until I finally was in front of the man to be paid. If I knew names, I would not direct you to them. It is not a place to ask questions.”
“The fact Thornton asked you to take the money tells me he was afraid because of a whole lot more. Was he being blackmailed?”
“That was my conclusion at the time. I decided to sever ties with Thornton and asked him not to contact me in case his phones were wired. I didn’t want people like that on my tail. I had done him a favor, and I thought that was all there was to it. I suggested he get more security around him.”
He poured more wine. My glass was still three-fourths full. He drank his in two gulps and added more. Guilt appeared in his mannerisms and eyes. “I had no idea it was serious enough that he would disappear.”
“So you think he just disappeared? What about foul play? Maybe they caught up with him and finished him off.”
His head dipped and hands spread in frustration. “I just don’t know. After seeing those people, he could be in the bottom of the East River or the Atlantic, for that matter. I just don’t know.” He looked at me as if finally focusing on my purpose for being here. “Miss McCauley, I suggest you let things ride for a while. Either he will come home, or, as you suggest, it is possible he is dead at their hands. That circle is far beyond your expertise. I hope you forgive me for saying that, but not many people are allowed to permeate their inside workings. It is very dangerous. The police should be called in on this one.”
When I asked, he reluctantly gave me the name of the gambling establishment. As for his comments to me, I agreed that he was probably right, but I had no intentions of letting him know that. I thanked him for the information and told him I would think hard about my next move in the matter. That much was the truth.
At last, I had one motive for Thornton to vanish into thin air, or into deep waters someplace.
I thought about calling Ben to update him but changed my mind. Nick was my best sounding board. That night after we finished dinner we sat at our patio table. Just as I began my story about James Butler, light sprinkles of rain began. We moved inside in time to escape a downpour and settled on the couch. The darkening skies seemed to hide from streaks of lightning followed by popping claps of thunder. I curled next to Nick and continued my story of the day’s events.
“Candy, it sounds as if you are in the middle of a world foreign to you.”
“Does that mean you don’t think I can handle it?” I didn’t want to bristle, but I did.
His soft chuckle reassured me as he meant it to do. I didn’t need Nick to doubt my abilities like James Butler had earlier.
“I don’t doubt you can get to the bottom of this. I am saying it may be time to pull Detective Ben Johnson into it all. You have gathered a lot of information all due to your tenacity. From what you told me, I believe you may get yourself into dangerous territory.”
I thought about his words. “I may do that, but I would like to get a little more on the table before I meet with Ben again. There has to be another computer someplace that Thornton uses.”
“If he has run for his life, maybe he took a laptop with him. You did say he still works part-time away from his office.”
“That is something to consider. Angelina told me she is his secretary when he works at home,” I said. “She showed me all the computers there, and I searched for quite a while and found nothing significant. I took the laptop he uses and found nothing.”
I recalled the numbers that had dollar signs in fro
nt of them. It was as if I was reading fiction, but the bottom line was that Thornton Grey was extremely wealthy. I wanted to get back into his home. This time I planned to go through every room in the mansion and search with the proverbial fine-toothed comb.
The next morning, Angelina agreed to go back to her father’s home with me.
“What are you looking for?” she asked when we parked our cars along the manicured lawn.
“I am not sure, except to say there has to be something here that is a clue to where your father is.”
Raymond was nowhere in sight. Even when I arrived with Angelina, he still gave me shivers. It had to be his mannerisms, I thought. At any rate, I did not have to consider the gardener today.
Angelina escorted me throughout the downstairs. It was hard to concentrate on finding the clue I hoped to discover. The opulence of the home was breathtaking and overwhelmed me.
“Where is his study?” I asked. Surely, there was a study or library in this place.
She showed me the library at the end of the hallway on the right. Ahead of me was a wide glass door that opened to a veranda and beautiful garden. Rock pathways wound throughout the spacious backyard. We turned into Thornton’s library. Plenty of light tumbled into the room. The windows continued from the glass doors, separated only by a thick wall between the doors and his haven. The view from the large desk at the other end of the room ensured composure when he gazed at the yard cared for with precision. The room was decorated entirely in masculine fashion. Comfortable brown leather chairs and a loveseat were gathered in front of a stone fireplace. The décor spoke of travels to worlds I could only dream of visiting.
“Do you want privacy in your search?” asked Angelina.
Her voice startled me from my admiration of the surroundings. “I would like for you to be here. You can show me nooks and crannies I may miss.”
Indeed, she did point out two hidden drawers in the built-in bookcase to the right of his desk. Another surprise happened when she tapped a heavy wooden panel at the end of the bookcase. A doorway swung open. I peered inside to see a large closet. On either side were volumes of very old bound books.
“Those are rare books my father collected. They are his prized possessions.”
Other than the books, I did not find anything significant to my goal. I walked to his desk. Though the large middle drawer had a keyhole, it slid open effortlessly which made it easy to rifle through the contents. Several small keys were in a tray, along with several other miscellaneous items. After pulling open every drawer in the room, my face showed disappointment.
“I presume there is nothing here to give you any clues,” said Angelina. Her face matched mine when I shook my head.
“Let’s go up to the second floor,” I said.
From the outside, I observed two floors plus an attic. The staircase took us to the top and we stepped onto a shiny hardwood surface. A wide hallway with rooms that flanked it reached the end with another window the width of the passageway. Stained glass artwork outlined it. This gave the person who wished to gaze through it a perfect view of the panorama in back of the house.
Angelina ushered me into her father’s bedroom.
“I could put three rooms of my house in this room,” I said. My outburst didn’t embarrass me. By now, Angelina knew me well enough to know I was in new territory compared to my humble life.
She smiled. “I suppose if you grow up this way, you don’t think that much about it.”
I agreed she was probably right. My eyes grazed the room.
“Would your father have a laptop in here? I notice there is a computer desk in the corner.”
I noted a photo of the man I searched for. It was on the desk almost hidden in the back corner against the wall. I thought it odd he kept a picture of himself in his bedroom, but the thought was a fleeting one. Maybe he was narcissistic.
“He may have one he uses for personal stuff. I have no idea where it would be if not on that desk,” said Angelina.
Together, we looked around the room as if hoping one would suddenly appear from out of the blue. We pulled out drawers and looked in the walk-in closet. Thornton Grey was a meticulous man. So far, everything in the house was in order. Even his closet was lined with suits and other clothing items separated according to color and seasons. If he took off on his own, it did not appear he packed anything.
Another hour and a half uncovered nothing for me. I looked at Angelina. I felt the fact that her father was missing hit her harder as we walked through the house. I doubted she had ever gone through his personal belongings like this before, either. Turning toward the door, I told her I had seen enough. If I was alone, or with a cop or someone unattached to Thornton Grey, I would have gone to the attic. For now, this was all his daughter could handle.
She stood outside the front door and looked around. I didn’t know if she expected him to walk across the lawn or not, but her look held hope of something. It had to be a sudden apparition of him emerging from the woods, I thought. That did not happen. Sad eyes locked with mine.
“Let’s go get some lunch, Angelina.” Her haggard countenance made me think food had not been considered seriously as of late. “Where is a good place to grab a salad or something to refresh us?”
This was in her realm of reality. She knew the perfect spot, she told me. I followed her to a restaurant in the heart of Westchester. The menu was one page and the items were descriptive. I ordered a crab salad in Belgian endive leaves and opted for sparkling water. Angelina ordered a cup of lobster bisque and a cucumber cooler to drink.
I noticed tapered fingers handled utensils well. I tried to imitate her ease without dropping a fork of crabmeat on me. I vowed not to discuss our lack of clues this morning, but she brought the subject up.
“Are you at a dead end, Candace?” she asked me.
“Not at all, Angelina. I have other areas I am looking into. There are several viable leads that I’m not ready to discuss with you.” Her look of suspicion told me I should explain further. “I mean there are a variety of leads, but there is nothing brought together yet. I know, without any doubt, this mystery will be solved.”
Tenseness left her. “I know you can’t tell me every detail yet, but I am very glad you are not giving up.”
“Searching your father’s house is only one step in the process. I have new leads on acquaintances of your father that I intend to interview. I am definitely further along than even a week ago. I will find him.”
There was no way I was going to tell the daughter about her father’s gambling habits. In spite of my resolve, I decided to feel her out on that point.
“What does your father do to relax? I mean, other than getting out on the water.”
“I know he has several close male friends he meets with once or twice a month. I believe it is a group that smokes pipes and gossips.” She laughed at her own joke. “Men always think only women gossip, but believe me, they do plenty of it when they get together. And, by the way, my father does not smoke a pipe, to my knowledge.”
Her mood was light. Little did she know that her father’s close “friends” were thugs or that they met more than once or twice a month for a gossip session. By the time we finished lunch, I was convinced Angelina did not know of her father’s risky activities on the side. She immediately reached for the tab. Once outside, she reached into her purse and pulled out another check made out to me.
“You are up-to-date on payment, Angelina.”
“I’m not keeping track of that. Take this and we can settle at the end when my father is home safe and sound.”
As she drove away, I looked at the dollar amount. I knew for certain she was paid in full at this point. Knowing her, I knew more would be coming. I headed for the bank.
Chapter 8
Barbary Hall
After making the deposit, my GPS directed me to Barbary Hall on West 98th Street. I wanted to take a look at one of Thornton’s hangouts. The street was lined for two blocks with s
everal miscellaneous shops and small cafés. Nothing looked upscale but not the dredges of New York, either. I parked across the street and went into a café. I ordered a latte and found a spot where I could observe Barbary Hall. The street was narrow which aided me in getting details. The one-story building was nondescript. There were windows on either side of the front door, shielded by closed blinds. The single door displayed scrolls that wove around the frame of it. There was no sign out front announcing the establishment. The only indication it was a business of any kind was the street number 124 in gold on the worn brick wall.
So far, no one came or went from the place. I squinted to determine the recessed box above the doorknob. I was sure it was a code box. To my chagrin, there was no way I would get inside. Recalling James Butler’s assessment of the gambling house and its players left doubts earlier that I would go inside at all. Once here, I spent time figuring out my approach. Now the code was a deterrent for me. Maybe it was an omen. PIs did not take omens seriously, I reminded myself.
When several people entered the café, I looked with curiosity to see who they were. I wanted to know what kind of population did business down here. They were three middle-aged men in well-cut business suits. One wore dark glasses. His hair was pitch-black and he had a stocky build. Broad hands were muscular. One was slightly taller with tanned skin and an angular face. The third one was dark like the one with the sunglasses on. Those two could have been brothers. All three ordered expressos. From the corner of my eye, I watched the man with glasses go back and ask for a slice of peach pie. They sat down two tables away from me. My back was to them. I got up and ordered a second latte. The three men sat in silence until they were finished and then left. I watched them walk across the street. My hopes dashed when they entered the building next to the gambling house. I was so sure they were members of Barbary Hall until that moment. I craned my neck to see the name on the building they entered. The sign read Mike’s Shoe Repair. I couldn’t remember when I took a pair of shoes somewhere for repair. In fact, I never had.