Mona Lisa Eyes (Danny Logan Mystery #4)

by Grayson, M. D.

  “Who is he?” Ron demanded.

  “His name is Joshua Bannister.”

  Ron turned to Yoshi. “Go run ’em both, Yosh. Right now. Judie Lawton and Joshua Bannister.” Yoshi got up and left as Ron turned back to Nicki. “Why did you say you didn’t know him?”

  She smiled. “One tends to be somewhat circumspect about one’s drug supplier, wouldn’t you say?”

  Ron stared at her for a few seconds, then he shook his head. “Wouldn’t know.”

  I caught Ron’s eye and nodded toward Nicki, questioning. He nodded for me to take over.

  “Nicki, was he with you and Sophie on the night she went missing?”

  She stared at me for a moment, then she nodded. “He was. But I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. Josh never had anything to do with it; otherwise, I’d have already come forward about him.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know Josh. He may be into drugs, he may have even been to prison. But he’s still a kind, gentle man.”

  I nodded. “Okay. So tell us about him. What’s his connection to Sophie?”

  Nicki nodded slowly. “When Sophie moved into the Four Seasons at the start of last year, she bought a new condo on the eighteenth floor. Between the time she bought it and the time she moved in, she had them do a great deal of custom work—floors, cabinets, walls, that sort of thing. It actually wasn’t finished when she moved in—work continued even after she got here from London. Josh Bannister is a construction manager at the Four Seasons. He’s the one who was in charge of finishing off Sophie’s condo for her. She got to know him then.”

  “Is this when you met him too?”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t meet him until later. Sophie knew him first. Judie Lawton was Josh’s girlfriend. Early last year, Judie needed a job, and I guess she told Sophie that she was a bookkeeper, so Sophie helped her get a position at the Foundation.”

  “Which we heard didn’t last long,” Toni said.

  “That’s right. I guess Sophie probably didn’t know how unqualified Judie was then, or maybe she did, but being the kind of person she was, got her a job anyway.” She looked at the one-way mirror on the wall for a second, then smiled. “Sophie was always trying to help people out, you know. Anyway, not long after Judie started work, she let it be known that she and Josh had access to all sorts of drugs—weed, blow, crystal, E—you name it.” She smiled. “I wasn’t spending much time at the Foundation, of course, but I heard about it. Somebody told somebody else, and that somebody told Sophie, and Sophie told me. Looking back, I think that expanding Josh’s drug business may have been the real reason Judie went to work at the Foundation in the first place. They were looking for an in with well-heeled clientele.” She shrugged. “Anyway, after a while, I guess a few people started buying from them.”

  “Including you?”

  She looked at me without answering for a moment, then she bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. Including me. That’s when I met Judie and Josh. Now, I hate to say it, but I’m probably one of their bigger customers.” She bit her lower lip and shook her head slowly.

  “You said ‘a few people’ from the Foundation were customers,” Ron said. “Do you know who? Anyone else we should be talking to?”

  She shook her head. “I heard that there were others, but I don’t know who. It’s not the type of business transaction one conducts in the presence of other people. At least I don’t.” She shrugged. “I suppose most of the others felt the same way. Besides, it’s not as if I was friends with anyone else there.”

  “How do you even know that there were others, then?” I asked.

  “Judie told me.” She shrugged.

  “She’ll talk about that?” Ron asked.

  “Judie will always talk, but if she’s stoned, she’ll really let loose. You should talk to her, by the way.”

  “We intend to,” Ron said. “Maybe she’ll open up with us.”

  “Probably,” Nicki said. “One day, I think she was rattling on about her business, and I realized she was about to tell me who else was buying from her.”

  “And?”

  “And I stopped her, of course. I didn’t want to know. I figured what I don’t know can’t hurt me.”

  I nodded. “So eventually Judie got sacked?”

  “Yes. But it didn’t matter. By then, she’d already developed a number of new customers for her and Josh’s business.”

  “And how was Sophie during all this?” Toni asked. “What was her involvement? What was her reaction? You’ve said before that Sophie didn’t really do drugs, so what was her feeling about the way Judie and Josh kind of set up shop?”

  Nicki shrugged. “There was absolutely no involvement. In fact, she was horrified at the notion. She didn’t have anything to do with Josh and Judie’s drug business. She was absolutely mortified that she’d been responsible for bringing a drug dealer into the middle of the Foundation—vouched for her at that.” Nicki smiled. “It was kind of funny, really. Anyway, as luck would have it, Judie only lasted for what, ninety days? After Judie got sacked and was no longer a threat to the Foundation in Sophie’s eyes, then their relationship was strictly social again. Sophie was very much relieved. We still saw Josh and Judie at the clubs from time to time. As a matter of fact, Sophie still went out with Judie—at least until she hooked up with Ryan Crosby. And Josh still did some work for Sophie around her condo. But Sophie was definitely more comfortable after Judie didn’t work for the Foundation anymore.”

  “And you continued to buy drugs from Josh?” Ron said. She nodded.

  “Speaking now of Josh Bannister,” I said, “we don’t know anything about him, other than what we can see here on the photo and the bits and pieces we’ve heard, mostly from people who don’t know him well. Can you describe him for us?”

  “Yeah. He’s not very tall. He’s slender, not very muscular. He’s kind of pale, like he doesn’t get much sun. He’s always a pleasant guy, though—at least he was whenever he’d accompany us to the clubs. He was fun to be around—kind of nonthreatening.”

  “Nonthreatening?” Toni asked.

  “Yeah. He never tried to hit on us. Not like most guys.”

  “You and he were never lovers?” Ron asked.

  Nicki gave him a hard look. “No, we were not.”

  “How about Sophie and him?” Ron followed up.

  “Ha!” Nicki said. “Sophie lovers with Josh? That’s a laugh. Sophie would never, and besides, Josh isn’t like that. He’s steady with Judie.”

  “Does he strike you as a violent man?” Ron asked.

  Nicki shook her head. “No, not at all. I mean, we knew he’d been in prison—he didn’t really try to hide it. But he definitely didn’t come across like the ex-cons you see on the telly. He was more like a little brother.” She laughed. “One time at the Genesis he actually tried to break up a fight between two girls, and one of them accidentally decked him—gave him quite the shiner.” She laughed again. “The way he carried on afterward, I thought he might actually start crying.”

  Ron nodded. “Tell us about the drugs.”

  She shrugged. “Josh sells drugs, what else is there is to say? I don’t think he sells enough to leave his position—he still works at the Four Seasons today.” She nodded. “But he does sell. He was always willing to run out to his car with us and draw some lines—he calls it his promotional stash.”

  “What kind of drugs?” Ron said. “I’m trying to get an idea as to how substantial a dealer Bannister is. What quantities were you able to buy from him?”

  Nicki looked at him. “You’re sure I don’t need a lawyer? If I answer these questions, I mean?”

  Ron shook his head. “Nope. I’m here to find out who killed Sophie.” He paused. “Your drug use is your own problem.” He paused, then added, “Incidentally, though, here’s the speech: get yourself cleaned up. Maybe you should ask yourself if getting straightened out might not be a fitting way to honor your sister’s m
emory.” He paused. “But that’s up to you. I’m here to bust the scumbag that killed her and to do that, it’ll be helpful to know about Joshua Bannister’s business. What drugs did he move? What quantities? That sort of thing.”

  She nodded. “Far as I know, cocaine: grams, maybe eight-balls. Weed: ounces.”

  “Heroin?”

  She shook her head. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t know if he sold it, and even if he did, I wouldn’t touch it anyway.” She smiled. “Even I draw the line somewhere.”

  Ron nodded and turned to me. “What do you think? Grams and eight-balls? He sounds pretty small-time, huh?”

  I nodded. Ron looked over at me, then at Toni. I think the same thought went through all of our minds: we finally had a break in this case.

  Ron said, “Well, we gotta bring ’em both in and talk to them.”

  Nicki nodded again, a worried look on her face. “I suppose when word gets out about this then the cat’s going to be out of the bag, isn’t it? I mean, regarding me and the drugs.”

  “I don’t think it’s a big secret even now,” I said. “I think a lot of people already suspect there’s a problem. Your aunt and uncle do, for sure.”

  She grimaced. “True, I suppose. But then, no one really knows for sure, do they?”

  “At this point, who cares who knows?” I asked. “No time like the present to start all over, like Ron said. You’ll have a lot of help.”

  She thought for a moment. Tears started to roll down her face. “I really am sick to death of it, you know? I want to stop, but I can’t.” She paused and sniffed, then she looked up and smiled, her eyes glistening. “You know, I actually used to think I could paint while I was high. That’s basically how I got through college. I felt like a goddess. The brushes just flew—they seemed to have a mind of their own.” She gave a quick laugh. “But now, sometimes when I’m straight, I look back at all that work, and it’s just crap. I wouldn’t hang them in the loo.” She paused, tears starting to form in her eyes again. “Sophie used to hound me relentlessly about it, about quitting. She never let up.” The tears started flowing harder now. I’d been just a tiny bit concerned that her seeming contrition, even including the tears, had been a bit of a put-on for our benefit. Now, though, looking at her, I was convinced—she was sincere. She needed help. Toni must have felt the same way because she got up and walked over to Nicki and hugged her for a minute while Ron and Yoshi and I looked on.

  “Nicki,” Toni said. “If anything good can be said to come out of Sophie’s death, maybe this is it. Maybe Sophie’s still looking after you.”

  Yoshi rejoined us shortly after Nicki left. “Bannister, Joshua Allen,” he read off a printout when he entered the room. “DOB 8-29-80. Makes him, what, thirty-two years old? Driver’s license says he lives at 1476 Thirteenth Avenue.” He looked up. “That’s up on Capitol Hill.” Referring to the sheet again, he said, “Mr. Bannister was a house guest for three years at Monroe Correctional for . . .” he flipped the page, “possession with intent. He’s on probation now. Works at the Four Seasons Hotel.

  “And then we’ve got Lawton, Judith Anne. DOB 5-16-87. I guess that makes her twenty-five. She’s at 148 Twelfth Avenue, #302, also up on Capitol Hill. No record for her at all.” He’d pulled mug shots of Bannister and a driver’s license photo of Judie Lawton.

  “A former coworker and an ex-con, both with ties to drugs, both in close proximity to our murder victim, both seen leaving with her the night she disappeared,” Toni said. “Should we be getting our hopes up?”

  “I am,” I said.

  “Got nothin’ to do with hope,” Ron said. “Got everything to do with running down leads. That’s all. Running ’em down.”

  “Running ’em down,” Yoshi repeated.

  “Speaking of which,” Ron said, “maybe we should call this guy’s boss at the Four Seasons? See if he’s there before we drive over.”

  “Call him?” Yoshi said. “What? And spoil the surprise?”

  Ron thought about this for a second, then he nodded and said, “Good point. Let’s just go. If he’s gone, we’ll swing past his apartment and invite him over for a little visit.” He turned to Toni and me. “You two care to tag along? You can ride with us.”

  The manager at the Four Seasons, a very nice lady named Christina Richards, told us that Josh Bannister indeed worked at the hotel as a construction project supervisor and had done so for the last two years. But we’d missed him. This past Tuesday afternoon—day before yesterday—he’d walked in and abruptly asked to begin his two-week vacation at the end of his shift.

  “I was surprised,” Christina said, “the sudden notice and all. But Josh is a hard worker—totally reliable. Never causes any trouble, never asks for anything. The residents all love him. And he has about two years’ accrued vacation that I’ve been threatening him to use or lose.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have a good reason to turn him down, so I approved it. He took off that afternoon, and we haven’t seem him around here since. He’s still got a week to go.”

  We thanked her, loaded up, and rolled on over to his apartment on Capitol Hill.

  He wasn’t there either. Nor was his blue Ranger pickup in the parking lot.

  We stood on the sidewalk outside his building and talked it out.

  “We can’t go inside without a warrant,” I said.

  “Correct,” Ron said.

  “And we can’t get a warrant because we don’t have probable cause yet,” Yoshi said. “Just a hunch, really.”

  Ron nodded. “Correct, again. So we’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Yosh, when we get back, I want you to start running down friends and relatives.”

  “Will do. I already know he has a brother. Saw it on his sheet.”

  “Yeah? Live around here?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Ron cocked his head. “The hell’s that mean?”

  Yoshi smiled. “Gabriel Bannister. Got busted the same time Joshua did. He’s still living at the big house in Monroe. Got another year to go.”

  “No shit. Joshua and Gabriel? Sounds like the parents were of the biblical persuasion. I’ll bet they didn’t expect their boys to turn out this way.”

  “Probably not.”

  Ron thought about this. “With brother Gabriel in Monroe, maybe we can go talk to the man. He might hate cops, but then again, he might not.” He looked at Toni. “Sorry about that, Toni. You’ll have to sit this one out.”

  Toni smiled. “What, you don’t want me in a men’s prison?”

  He laughed. “Shit, no. You’d start a riot. We’d have to fight our way back out.”

  Toni smiled again. “Aren’t you kind.”

  Ron nodded. “That’s me.”

  “What about Judie Lawton?” I asked. “She’s a hell of a lot closer than Monroe—only a couple of blocks away. Why don’t we run up there now and see if we can get her to talk to us?”

  “Relax, cowboy,” Ron said. “I was just about to get to that. Saddle up, that’s our next stop.”

  Chapter 12

  IT ONLY TOOK A COUPLE OF minutes to drive to Judie Lawton’s apartment on Twelfth Avenue. The building was three stories with the bottom floor entirely filled by a beauty salon. At three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, the place was doing a brisk business—we were lucky to get a parking spot across the street. Ron pulled up, and we hopped out.

  Yoshi looked up at the apartments. “Unit 302. Top floor.”

  “Naturally,” Ron said as we started across the street.

  “Ever notice how whenever the building has an elevator,” Yoshi said, “then the unit we want’s usually near the bottom, but if it’s a walk-up with no elevator—like this one is—then our unit’s always on the top floor?”

  Ron nodded. “Yeah. It’s the natural order of things. It’s God’s way of keeping us honest.”

  “And fit,” Yoshi added.

  “Maybe the bad guys want it that way,” Toni added. “They always pick the top floor on purpose.”
<
br />   “Humph,” Ron grunted as we reached the building and started up the stairs. “Interesting theory. Pain in the ass, though.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Toni and I are both a bit younger. It’s probably not something we’d notice.”

  “‘Probably not something we’d notice,’” Ron mimicked sarcastically as he started up the stairs. “Wiseass. Wait ’til your knees start to give out. Come talk to me then.”

  I smiled as we reached the landing on the second floor. “Now, don’t go getting defensive. I didn’t mean it as—” Suddenly, I was hit by something. “Stop!” I said, lifting up a hand in a reflexive military “halt” signal. The others froze, alarmed. They looked at me.

  “What?” Toni asked. Ron had instinctively flipped his coat back so that he could reach his sidearm.

  I gingerly took a breath. “Smell that?” I asked, still holding my hand up. I smelled a faint but very distinguishable, sweet, sickening odor.

  The others sniffed the air. “I smell hair spray and fingernail polish remover,” Ron said.

  I inhaled again carefully and sure enough, there it was. Memories of the same smell in the small villages of Afghanistan and Iraq came flooding back. It was the smell of death—dead animals, even an occasional dead human. Death was all too commonplace over there, and anyone who’s experienced it will tell you that it has its own unique and unforgettable smell. “That’s not it,” I said quietly. “There’s a body around here somewhere. The smells coming up from the beauty shop are masking the odor, but it’s here.”

  Ron looked at me. “You sure?”

  I nodded slowly, scanning the surrounding area. “Guaranteed.”

  Toni suddenly looked past me up the stairs just as the thought popped into my mind. “Judie Lawton!”

  With that, we hustled up the stairs. At the next landing, the smell became unmistakable.

  “Oh geez,” Toni said when we reached the hallway, reaching to cover her mouth with her coat sleeve. “You were right.”