“Of course not, Emily.” I looked over at Shim. “Let her have some time. I’m sure she’ll be willing to come in and tell you whatever she remembers. Will that work for you, Detective?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Shim folded his notebook and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
“That okay with you, Em?” I glanced at her.
Looking lost and broken, she nodded.
“Ma’am…” Shim looked at her. “If you need anything, just call. You’ve got my number. When you’re ready you can arrange to come in. We’ll do our best to find whoever did this to your brother.”
She stared at him for a moment then gave a faint nod.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am.”
His words didn’t sound hollow. Shim seemed genuinely sorry. I liked that about him.
“Thanks for holding off,” I said as we walked to the door. “I’ll make sure she talks with you.”
“Listen, I didn’t want to mention this, and there’s a little time, but we’re gonna need her to…”
“To ID the body. Right, I know. I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”
“She’ll have to, though.”
I nodded. I’d have to be there with Emily. “Just give me a heads up. I’ll get her there. And maybe she’ll be able to talk with you then.”
“You know the deal, Fontana. The more we know and the faster we know it, the more likely it is we close this case.” He gave me a serious, I-mean-business, look.
“She’ll be there, Detective. Keep me in the loop.”
“I’ll do what I can. Don’t shadow us, Fontana,” Shim said, maintaining the tough guy act. Didn’t seem his heart was in it. He started to go then turned back. “Thanks for coming along. I wasn’t sure I wanted you there at first. But I’m glad you were there.” He took the steps slowly, as if he were trying to remember something, then started on down the street. Half a block away, he looked over his shoulder at me then turned away quickly as if he were embarrassed.
I shut the door and returned to Emily, face covered by her hands, weeping silently. I sat next to her on the sofa and waited while she cried herself out. Wiping away her tears with a handkerchief, she took a deep breath.
“Brad’s the only family I have. You know?”
“I know. I also know Brad loved you very much.”
She almost started crying again but took control and searched my face for answers.
“Th-they’re sure it was Brad?”
“They found ID on his… in his wallet. They’re sure.”
“You didn’t see him, then?”
“I had an appointment with him this morning.” I told her the whole grisly story then, from my finding the dead client to the police stumbling upon Brad’s body after I’d called them. “That’s what we’ve got so far.”
“Who’d do this? Who? Do you think this person Johnny might have…? I mean, Brad didn’t have enemies. Could it have been a random crime? A robbery? A bashing? Brad was so open and out. Could it have…”
“It’s possible. We’ve got to wait. When you can manage it, you need to try and remember anything you can. The sooner the better.”
“Can you investigate, Marco?”
“The police will…”
“I don’t trust the police. I never have. Considering Brad’s occupation, how much time do you think they’ll put in on this?”
“It’s a double murder and in center city. It’s too big to put on a back burner. The police will have to come up with answers.”
“You think so? Because, I don’t. They’ll seem like they’re doing something. Once they hit a dead end, they’ll give up and the case will never get solved. You’d never give up.”
“You want me to shadow their investigation?” I knew Giuliani wouldn’t like it but it’s what I was planning anyway. If Brad’s sister was asking me to help, I’d feel better about getting in on it. Maybe I could even get Shim on my side.
“I want you to find out who did this to my brother.”
“I’ll need information. Whatever you can give me.”
“Anything.”
“Listen to me. The police need your help, too. Don’t hold back. You don’t trust them, fine. Help them anyway.” The more eyes on the case the better.
“If you think so…”
“I do, Em. Now tell me about his friends. Places he likes. Things he’d been doing lately. That’s a start.”
“I can do that,” she said. “What about his computer? You think you might find something there?”
“The police will need to take a look at that, too, Em. They’ll want access to everything. Best to let them see what they want. It could crack the case open.”
“You take a look first. Before they touch Brad’s things… I’d feel better that way.”
I was treading into deep water here but, hell, what the police didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, there was no way in hell I’d stay out of this. Brad was a friend and Emily had no other family. I couldn’t walk away.
“I’ll do whatever I can. You know that.”
“I don’t want you doing anything that will…” She hesitated.
“Don’t worry, Em.”
“How do we… I mean, what do we do now?”
“Where’s Brad’s computer? Let’s start with that.” I knew there’d probably be client lists, an address book, maybe more.
“Upstairs. You haven’t been here since we rearranged the place. Brad took the third floor for himself, leaving me the second floor which is nicer. Since we were kids he’s looked out for me, was always so nice. I don’t know why…”
“He loved you, Em.” I took her hands in mine and squeezed. “You’re gonna have to be strong, Emily.”
She nodded struggling with herself for control. Then she stood and walked over to the stairs. Short, unlike Brad, and blond, also unlike her brother, Emily was delicately beautiful. Her pale coloring and long hair gave her an ethereal appearance. Brad had been the opposite, always solidly planted on the earth.
Moving up the stairs with a grace I’d only seen in dancers, Emily seemed to float through the house. When we reached the third floor landing she stepped aside for me.
The silence in the house was unpleasant. Maybe because Brad was gone and all that was left was silence. Emily would have to live with that and the only thing anyone could do was find out who did this and make them pay.
Standing there for a moment, I took in everything: sights and fleeting sounds, odors and shadows. I tried imagining Brad moving through the hall toward one of the rooms.
I moved slowly to the first doorway. His bedroom. Light poured in from a window bringing life to the room and a sense of expectation. It looked lived in but not messy. Brad kept it as neat and clean as his spa. His bed hadn’t been slept in, of course.
“Was it odd that Brad didn’t come home last night?” I asked. Emily stood in the doorway staring blankly ahead.
“Wha…? Oh. No. No, I didn’t think anything of it. Brad often came in after I was asleep and usually left the house before I was up. He was intense about his business.”
I started with the closets. Even though I didn’t expect to find much I had to look. Filled with coats, jackets, pants, the closets were what you’d expect. Then I looked under the bed. You never know where people will store something important. There was nothing, not even a small dust bunny. My place was neat and clean but Brad’s efficiency put me to shame. For some reason, that made everything seem even sadder.
I moved to the next room and Emily followed. This was where he kept his computer on a small desk. A bulletin board with a three month calendar spread across the top hung on the wall next to the desk. On the desk another appointment calendar lay open to the week leading up to this Saturday. He’d obviously been obsessive about making sure he never forgot an appointment, especially considering the appointment book at the spa itself. More records never hurt, especially in an investigation.
The room also held a large TV
and a cable box. Opposite the TV was a recliner and a circular end table. That was about all the room could fit.
I patted my pocket, feeling for the flash drive I always carried. I wanted to download anything that looked important. I reminded myself that whatever Giuliani didn’t know wouldn’t matter and I didn’t think Shim would object.
I also remembered the rubber gloves I’d used at the spa earlier which I’d saved. In case they decided to print the room for some reason, I had no intention of leaving fingerprints behind to complicate everything. I took them out of my pocket.
“You carry gloves?” Emily was wide-eyed.
“Sometimes.You never know.”
The Spartan desk chair was what I’d imagined someone like Brad might have. Not that he disliked comfort but he didn’t want to grow soft in a padded chair, surfing the internet. I sat and powered up the computer. Then I turned to Emily standing in the doorway, staring at the room probably seeing nothing but memories.
“Em?”
“It hasn’t seemed real until now. You know?” She sighed. “I mean, it was all a little distant. Just words from you and that detective. It’s so quiet here. There’s no escaping it, is there?”
“It’ll take time, Emily. A long time.” I didn’t need to tell her that nothing would ever feel the same again. She’d known that ever since her parents died. With Brad gone, her lonely place in the universe would seem even more empty.
“I miss him.”
“Give me a hand with some of this,” I said gesturing for her to step into the room. “We might find something to get the bastard who did this. How about it?”
“I don’t know…” Her eyes were glassy with tears.
“Maybe you’ll notice something that’ll spark a memory. I know it doesn’t feel right.”
She stared at the floor. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and tentatively moved into the room. She looked around as if expecting her brother to appear, then came to stand behind me.
Before dealing with the computer I looked over the wall calendar and the appointment book. I swept the page of the book with my gloved hand as if I’d get some kind of feeling through the paper and ink. He’d had a full week of appointments. I slipped out my notebook and copied every name in the book for that week and the three weeks prior. There were only evening appointments for most of April. He had only a few names for the week following this one and I noted those also. Some listings had phone numbers.
I riffled through the rest of the appointment book. There were no loose papers, no more appointments past the next week, no other notations.
The bulletin board calendar held the broad outlines of Brad’s life for April and the start of May. Massage appointments and construction schedules. I copied the names and times of clients and workers and took a picture of it with my cell phone.
“Looks like jury duty put a dent in Brad’s work for April,” I said nodding to the calendar.
“He hated the whole thing. Said it was a waste of time.”
“No wonder, poor guy couldn’t schedule day sessions for more than two weeks. Had to hurt financially.”
“He complained but…” Emily stared at the calendar as if trying to remember something, or, was deciding to tell me something she hadn’t been willing to share before.
“Is there something else, Em?”
“What?... Oh…” She brushed strands of her pale blond hair from her face, but they fell back.
“Emily, I’ve got to know what you know, even if you only suspect something. It could make a difference.”
“Brad worried about something, but he wouldn’t tell me what.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“That’s just it. He wouldn’t say much. Just that something worried him. He didn’t say who or what. I assumed it was Johnny. Maybe Brad was worried about finances. Do you think there was something...?” She paused. “Ohgod, do you think… maybe I missed something? Should I have pressed him more? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I’d…”
“Don’t do this, Em. There was no way you could’ve known.”
She stared at me, her big eyes childlike and filled with pain. “I… I know… but, he only had me. I should have asked what was bothering him.”
“What about the trial? What did he tell you about it? Any details or names?”
“He wasn’t happy. He said there was some dangerous character on trial. It made him nervous.”
“They weren’t sequestered. Brad could take evening appointments.”
“They were given strict orders not to speak about the trial, or read news in any form.”
“So, he never told you about the defendant or anything?”
“No. When he mentioned the trial, he said that ‘those people’ that’s how he referred to them…” She glanced away and to the right as if remembering. “He said ‘those people’ were frightening. The way the defendant looked at the jurors scared him.”
“It can be intimidating. That’s usually all it is.”
“Brad said he should have ignored the jury summons and risked the fine or whatever they do when you refuse to serve.”
I’d have to head down to City Hall and see what I could find out about trials in the past month. I needed to narrow it down.
“Did he tell you what the outcome was?”
“We had dinner the night the trial ended. Brad looked worried. He said the defendant had been convicted. That should’ve made him happy, right?”
“Sometimes jurors can feel the weight of the responsibility they had. Even if they make the right decision. They can also feel a let down once the trial ends.”
“I suppose,” she said.
“At least the guy will do some time.”
“Brad was edgy. Maybe there was something else bothering him or someone else. I should have pulled it out of him.”
“Brad’s never edgy,” I murmured. Which was why he was good at relaxing his clients. “He’s always calm and collected.”
“There must have been something I missed. Some other problem. I feel terrible.”
“You couldn’t know that at the time.”
“Maybe not, but…”
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just…”
“What’re you thinking, Emily?”
“None of it matters now, right? Brad is dead and none of this matters.”
“Not true. Anything might help. His friends, his contacts. Even his clients. One of them may know something or could be the one…”
“The one who… killed him. Yes, you’re right,” she said, her voice a whisper.
I pulled open a drawer in the desk and found it full of mini-Three Musketeer bars, mini-Snickers, and other candy. I’d never have guessed Brad liked candy. His figure never showed an extra ounce. I felt uncomfortable and a little sad. There was probably a lot I didn’t know about him.
Emily saw the candy and a wistful smile came and went on her face.
“I had no idea Brad was a sugar addict,” I said.
“He loved candy. But he never touched it. He called that drawer his ‘Resistance Control.’ He said if he could open that drawer each day, look at the candy, and never touch it, he would be stronger for it. He was strong, I’d never resist.”
I closed that drawer and continued rummaging. Another drawer held pens and writing pads. The third contained notes and letters. I was happy I’d used the gloves. If the police fingerprinted anything, it would be these notes, especially if any of them seemed suspicious. I pulled out the pile and plopped it on the desk.
“Hard to believe people still send anything through the Post Office,” I said, spreading out the notes.
“You’d be surprised.” She picked a birthday card from the pile. “I sent this two months ago. Of course, Brad would save it. He was always so sweet.”
She held the card and stared.
“We didn’t get to hang out enough, but he was one of the good guys.” I fingered the notes on the desk
. “I’ll find out what happened, Emily. I promise. Why don’t you go and relax downstairs? I’ll be through here in a bit. Maybe you could make some tea?”
She nodded and without a word drifted out of the room, the card still clutched in her hand. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in letting her have the card.
I went through the rest of the notes and letters and realized I’d been wrong. Most of them hadn’t been sent through the mail, most of them were notes of appreciation for his massages undoubtedly left in the tip envelopes at the reception desk.
They were all praise and admiration. “You’re the best, Brad.” Signed “Kev.” Or, “I’ve never had such a great massage. I feel like I’m floating.” Signed, “Bob.” Or, “I can hardly use this pen, I’m in a daze. You’re fabulous.” No signature on that one.
Most of the notes in the drawer ran that way. With one exception.
“Must talk soon.” The initial “M” appeared at the bottom of that one. I made notes and placed everything back in the drawer. The police might need all of this. I liked having a jump on Giuliani when I was on a case but I’d never obstruct her investigation.
Turning my attention to the computer, I clicked on Brad’s work folder and it opened immediately. The computer wasn’t password protected which figured. Brad was too trusting and never wanted to be bothered with passwords.
There wasn’t much in the way of files. Client lists, an address book, a few game shortcuts, and some random files. I fished out my flash drive, plugged it into the computer and downloaded everything.
That was it. I needed to get back to my office and put things in motion. I’d start Olga searching, and I’d mine the files for information. As I finished up, Emily appeared in the doorway.
“I made that tea, want some?”
“You bet.” I smiled at her. Then I remembered something I’d seen. “You happen to know who that is?” I pointed to a name and number tacked to Brad’s bulletin board over the calendar.
“That’s Charlie.”
“Who’s Charlie?”
“He subbed for Brad when there was a last minute problem or a flood of appointments. Sometimes Brad let Charlie use one of the rooms for his own clients. Is he important?”
Body on Pine Page 5