Pretty City Murder

by Robert E. Dunn

  “He was your responsibility and mine. The debt didn’t exist. The MacKenzie family has more money than it knows what to do with, and how would Cornelius gamble? He doesn’t even drive.”

  “Online gambling.”

  “Ridiculous. There’s something missing, something you don’t want to talk about.” He bent over, placed both hands on O’Hara’s desk, and said calmly, “What is missing?”

  “The land deal had already fallen through. I don’t have to tell you anything else, or are you arresting me, Larry?”

  “How did you do it? How did you send an e-mail to Pepper from Cornelius?” Hieu asked.

  “Easy. Every employer monitors employee e-mails and passwords. Why are you two taking her side in all of this? She’s not worth a free piss.”

  “Why would you ask her to bring the money and then accuse her of stealing it?” Larry asked, pleased with his partner’s poise.

  James got up, the back of his legs forcing the chair against the window sill. “Someday...I’d like to retire. I plan on leaving this empire to someone who has my trust, and it surely isn’t that homely little desk clerk, though she did just as I told her. So far, I haven’t found that person. I want to keep my marriage, have Clare join me in retirement, and leave all this behind, but for now, I’m done with you two. Good-bye.” He walked in the direction of the double doors, unbolted a panel, spat into a wash basin, and slammed the panel shut.

  He waited there and said, “Did you forget your father’s role in that bank robbery?”

  Larry bristled at the mention and said, “One more question. Your man, Fletcher, said you arrived at the Greenwich a few minutes after midnight on the night of the murder.”

  “Ten minutes after, to be exact,” Hieu added.

  “Not true.”

  Larry stood up and said, “There’s video. This is a warning, James. Keep walking the wide path to hell and you might end up there.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Your men have looked at the video. Didn’t they? I’ve got a few more years running this place.”

  “Murder may be lying at the end of your destination. Remember this, God doesn’t come when you want him to, or expect him to, but he’s never late. Most of my trainees have asked me the question, ‘What does a murderer look like?’ My response is always the same, ‘A murderer looks like you.’”

  “What about this Morales kid? He hasn’t shown up for work in days.”

  “Thinking of firing him, too?”

  “What other choice have I got? His disappearance shows he’s guilty.”

  “We’re looking for him.” Larry got up. At the door, standing in O’Hara’s face, he asked, “Cornelius and Maureen were up to something. What was it?”

  James’ laughter filled the office. He walked back to his desk, pulled a ledger out of the top drawer, and picked up the phone without looking at Larry. “I’m not going to prison!”

  “There’s more than one prison. There’s the prison that is your mind and keeps you locked in a room without windows and won’t let you see truth.”

  Larry shut the oak doors on his way out and stopped to say good-bye to the secretary. She had the ear-phones around her neck. Her other attributes were in full view. Larry heard the buzzer on her desk as he carefully shut the outer door.

  Hieu emerged unruffled and rode the elevator with him to the first-floor lobby.

  “I think we need to talk to Pablo,” Hieu said.

  “First, we have to find him,” Larry groused.

  “Where to, Larry?”

  “Well, we aren’t going to find him having tea at the Press Club, the Metropolitan, or Pacific Union!”

  Varton called Larry and Hieu into his office at half past eleven.

  Larry’s cell phone vibrated. He fumbled to get it out of his jacket.

  “Are you there?” she asked.

  He grabbed the phone off the floor. “Yes, I’m here. I’m busy, Lauren.”

  “I got an invitation from Maureen Daley. I was at the mailbox and rummaged through the flyers and junk-mail. I saw an envelope with a pale green, glued-on return address and her Palmer method script. I knew what it was.”

  Larry started to speak, but she kept talking.

  “I opened it. Maude sees Maureen at St. Brendan’s every Sunday. How can she go to church and be sleeping with James O’Hara? I left the mail on the floor. Gather it up when you get home. I’ll read the note. ‘Dear Lauren: You and Larry are invited for dinner and trivia games at my home Saturday, July 13, at seven o’clock. I’m expecting a small gathering of friends. We haven’t seen each other in such a long time. I look forward to catching up. RSVP.’ Can we go?”

  “I thought you didn’t like to go out on such short notice?”

  “This is an exception, and the mail was late. What do you think she’s up to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Larry! How can you be so dense?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “It’s at seven. You’re home by that time.”

  “The answer is no.”

  The click at the other end made mincemeat of his ear drum.

  “Domestic troubles, Larry?” Varton asked.

  “I think Pablo is gay,” Hieu announced.

  Joe sat back in his chair.

  Larry stuffed the phone in his jacket. “I don’t like labels. They belong on cereal boxes.”

  Joe raised his eyebrows and said, “What makes you say that, Hieu?”

  “Larissa told me that her boyfriend before Pablo was gay.”

  “When did you talk to her?” Larry asked.

  “I spoke to her on the phone from my office. She is Pablo’s first girlfriend. I asked where Pablo was on the day of the Pride parade, and she said he was gone all day. He’s a gang member, but none of them may know about a secret life. We observed Pablo’s rudeness toward Larissa. It’s like the man who takes a bite out of an onion to disguise the alcohol on his breath.”

  Larry choked on his laughter, “And Larissa is the onion. But an onion doesn’t attract anyone.”

  Hieu looked out Varton’s window from where he was sitting and said, “Larissa is attractive. Pablo is an angry man and may have been driven to kill.”

  “That may be, but we need facts. What did you find out from O’Hara?”

  Larry answered, “He denied being at the Greenwich at ten after twelve. He said that there was no coincidence that Cornelius’ debt matched the amount of money taken from the vault by Pepper. He admitted that Maureen is pregnant with his baby.” He turned to Hieu. “How can we be sure that what you claimed about Pablo is true?”

  “I can call her and ask her if sexual relations have declined or ended, or if she’s ever checked his text messages, or if she’s even seen pictures of men on their home computer. We could have it examined forensically.”

  “Not yet, Hieu. We have no probable cause, but he is our number one suspect. His drug use may be a major factor.” Joe stuck his straight finger up in the air. “All right. Find him. Bring Morales in.”

  “That’s what I said before. Pablo needs money.”

  “Just do it.”

  •••

  At half past two, two blocks from the Greenwich, Pablo texted Ready to be at the employee entrance.

  Ready was there. Pablo told him to step back under the overhang and stick his foot between the door and the jam.

  “Ready, I need some cash.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “Let me in. I wanna see O’Hara.”

  “No way. I ain’t gonna lose my job for you.”

  “What, what? You my homie.”

  Ready moved his foot, and Pablo put his against the door.

  “Hey, Ortiz said he saw you in the Castro. You weren’t in our colors. Widdat?”

  Pablo’s back straightened. “I thought he was in jail.”

  “No. He got let go and has to be back in court next month. You been stayin’ away from us past few days. Like I said, he saw you in the Castro.”


  “Why was he there?”

  Ready made a hand sign and said, “You was in some tight pants in the Castro, dude.”

  Pablo looked over his shoulder and said, “Shut up.”

  “Sorry, bro, but I got news. You better hang low. Ortiz is already talkin’ you up.”

  Pablo turned his back to Ready, took off his wife-beater, and wiped his face clean. He turned back around and said, “I never liked you anyway, Ready.”

  With a vengeance, Pablo pushed past Ready. He hurried down the hallway and took the stairs to the second floor. In less than a minute he stood in front of O’Hara’s secretary.

  “I wanna see O’Hara.”

  She buzzed O’Hara’s phone.

  Pablo could hear O’Hara’s voice through the doors.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. O’Hara can’t see you today.”

  Pablo barged in, and the doors hit the paneling.

  O’Hara rolled backward. “What do you want?”

  “Another $500.”

  “No. Get out.”

  “If you don’t give me the money, I’ll tell Leahy the whole story.”

  “He won’t believe you.”

  “You bastard. You gave me $500 to buy a gun. Now, I’m busted.”

  Pablo started to move around the desk.

  O’Hara pushed his chair to the other side. “Your fingerprints are on the gun, not mine. Now, get out or I’ll call the cops.”

  “The hell with you.” Pablo grabbed O’Hara and lifted him out of his chair. He didn’t know what to do next, let go, and walked out, leaving all the doors wide open.

  •••

  Larry’s phone rang.

  “Morales was here,” O’Hara said in a voice to be minded.

  “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know. He walked out. I’m looking out the window...wait a minute...he’s in the alley behind the hotel.”

  “What direction is he going? Which end of the alley...Ellis or Eddy?”

  “Eddy.”

  “I’m on the way. If he returns, try to keep him occupied and don’t let him leave.”

  Larry informed Joe and asked for Hieu. They raced to Central’s garage. Two squad cars followed and in five minutes they were in the alley. Larry parked outside the basement entrance. After telling the officers to wait there, he walked fast to O’Hara’s office. Hieu ran behind.

  “I’m here to see Mr. O’Hara.” Larry’s head rush warned him to slow down.

  With a smudge of orange lipstick on her teeth and sweet-smelling knobs bouncing, Ms. Keck smiled as if someone had just excited her. “He’s waiting for you, sir.”

  Larry opened the double doors.

  O’Hara was standing and said, “Have a seat.”

  “We didn’t see him on the street. So, exactly what did he say?” Larry dragged a chair on the plush carpet.

  “Pablo demanded $500 and stomped out.”

  Larry paused and asked, “Why $500?”

  O’Hara sat down hard. “How the hell should I know? He looked like he had the hell beat out of him.”

  “What?”

  “He had a cut over his eye, a bruise on the side of his face, and was wringing wet.”

  “Who let him in?”

  “I’d like to know that, too.”

  “What about his friend in housekeeping, Mr. Ready?” Hieu asked.

  “I’ll have him here in two minutes.”

  O’Hara buzzed Ms. Keck. “Get Ready in my office now.”

  “Let me do the talking, James.”

  Two minutes later, Ready walked in, the petrified expression on his face giving him away. Larry stood up and took a few paces toward Ready. “Mr. Ready, I’m Inspector Leahy and seated over there is Inspector Trang.”

  O’Hara stood up.

  “I didn’t let him in. He rushed past me. I couldn’t stop him.”

  O’Hara took one step to the side of his desk and scrutinized Ready. “Stand up straight. Your white shirt has a coffee stain. That’s one violation.”

  Larry interrupted, “You say he rushed past you. How did you know Morales would be at the back entrance?”

  “He texted me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He needed money. I told him I don’t have any.”

  Larry’s fears were swelling like a balloon. “Did he say anything else?”

  “Pablo said he wanted to see O’Hara...Mr. O’Hara. He rushed past me. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “Did he touch you?” Larry asked.

  “Sort of, sir. He came up against me hard and pushed me out of the way.”

  “Did he say he was going to rob anyone in the hotel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  “I dunno.”

  “All right. Don’t let Morales back in the hotel. Is that understood?”

  Ready turned around to leave, and O’Hara barked, “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stand still. Turn around. I’ll be speaking to your supervisor about your attire.”

  Ready looked as if he were going to pee in his pants as he backed out of the office.

  “Cornering Morales in a closed environment like the Greenwich is an easier way to catch him than on the streets, but he’s a threat to all the Greenwich employees,” Larry said. “What about the $500? What happened to it and who has it? I want an answer.”

  O’Hara sat down, leaned back in his chair, and rolled his eyes. He noticed a crack in the oak panel where the door had slammed against it. “Dammit, I have to get that wall repaired. That Morales kid is going to pay for it!” He walked over to the sink, looked at the damage, and soaked a wash cloth in hot water. From the sink he said, “I told you, I don’t know anything about $500.”

  “I don’t believe that. I’m taking a walk around and see what I can find out. That way I can be sure Morales is gone.”

  “Your choice, Larry.” O’Hara laid the wash cloth on the back of his neck.

  Ms. Keck withdrew a pencil from platinum curls piled high. She smiled as Larry and Hieu passed. Larry was tired of her, too.

  At the back of the hotel, Larry and Hieu described Morales to the officers, directed one of the officers to the front door, and walked him down the employee hall.

  Larry found Larissa at the switchboard. “Can we talk to you privately?”

  “I have to tell Pepper. She can handle the switchboard or ask the other desk clerk to fill in for me.”

  Larry, Hieu, and Larissa sat down at the lunch room table.

  “What’s going on?” Larissa asked.

  “Pablo was in the hotel about thirty minutes ago. Did you see him?”

  Her face suddenly dropped, and Larry saw tears forming. He scrambled for the right words. “Don’t get upset. All I want to know is, have you seen Pablo since Inspector Trang spoke to you?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him. I’m worried.”

  Hieu asked, “Have you heard from his mother, his friends, associates...did any of them say anything?”

  “No, and I haven’t seen him since Tuesday when you came to our house for the interview. What was he doing here?”

  Larissa started to cry, and Larry said, “He came to see Mr. O’Hara. Can you recall anything that’s happened that might help us find Pablo?”

  “I got his uniform dry-cleaned yesterday and hoped he would come home and go back to work. When I picked up his uniform, the clerk handed me a knife and a fingernail. She found them in his jacket pocket. She thought the fingernail was mine. They’re in my locker.”

  “Please bring them here.”

  She left the room.

  “Wherever he is, he forgot his knife,” Hieu said.

  “I want to see the fingernail.”

  Larissa dropped the knife and broken fingernail on the table. “I was jealous when I saw the fingernail...Pablo is seeing another woman, isn’t he?”

  Larry examined the knife, handed it to Hieu, and turned the black, red, and blue fingernail over several times.
It looked like the shiny object he had found outside the Security office.

  “This isn’t your fingernail?”

  “No. I don’t wear that color.”

  “We will keep these items.”

  Hieu looked it over and asked, “Who wears this color, Larissa?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think he’s having an affair?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Have you read any of Pablo’s text messages other than the messages he’s sent you?” Hieu asked.

  “No. He’s protective of the phone, and mostly he texts Ortiz and Ready or plays games.”

  “Can you tell us any more about his past?” Larry asked.

  “A little.”

  “Did he ever go to church? Does he believe in God?”

  “I know his mother took him to church, but I don’t think he believes in God.”

  “Does he ever talk about his father?”

  “No. His father abandoned them when Gloria was pregnant with Angel. I think Pablo gets mixed up sometimes, but he’s a good person. Do you think he’s all right?”

  “You have our promise to do whatever we can to find Pablo and bring him home safely.”

  Hieu then turned his attention to Larry, who placed the items in his jacket pocket. “We’re looking for him. He’s moving around quickly, and we’re just a few steps behind.”

  “I know I can count on both of you,” she said and wiped away her tears. “I’m worried about my baby and my Pablo.”

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday, July 10

  Immediately after his interview at the police station, Gerald had rushed to Topaz Lake for two days of communing with nature. It gave him plenty of time to think about Varton and O’Hara, his bullies. He had the house key in his pocket. As the sun set behind Monitor Pass, an owl hooted a single melody in the cottonwood trees hanging overhead on what could be his last night of staying at the lake house. Circumstances beyond his control might demand the key be returned.

  The grandfather clock’s iridescent dial let him know that it was just past eight. A bookcase stood in the corner of the living room, and the spine of Cornelius’ Bible eyed him. He wished he had religion the way Cornelius spoke about it. He said the story of Adam and Eve wasn’t about them. It was God saying, “I’m God, and you aren’t.” The way that Cornelius had explained things made sense.