Brutality

by Ingrid Thoft

“Which is?”

  “Greta would have to be really cold to not want to know me once she’s walking around with my kidney.”

  Fina raised an eyebrow. “So you want to guilt her into a relationship?”

  “That’s not how I would put it, but perhaps it would provide an added incentive.”

  “Why don’t you throw in a cornea and a chunk of your liver? You two would be BFFs in a heartbeat.”

  Risa snorted.

  “I think we should talk to Greta,” Fina said. “Let’s ask her if they ever tried to find you, and if not, why not?”

  Risa put down her fork. Her face looked pinched. “But what makes you think she’s going to tell the truth?”

  “I have no expectation that she’ll tell the truth,” Fina admitted, “but we’ll learn something, whatever she tells us.”

  “You think you’ll be able to tell if she’s lying?”

  Fina bit into a chunk of feta. She held up a finger while she chewed.

  “Probably,” she said. “Regardless, she needs to make her case. The burden is on her, not you.”

  Risa sat for a moment, thinking. “Fine. When should we do it?” she asked.

  “As soon as possible. I’ll call her and try to set something up, but I think you should postpone your tests until after we’ve met with her.”

  “Where should we meet?”

  “She is sick,” Fina said, “so I don’t want to make it impossible for her, but we probably shouldn’t meet in Rockford if we want some privacy.”

  Risa sipped her drink. “Do you think Marty should be a part of the conversation?”

  “What do you think?” Fina asked.

  “Maybe not. I think he’d have a hard time listening and being objective. Not that I’ll be objective, but I’d be worrying about him the whole time.”

  “Then he probably shouldn’t join us,” Fina said, “but I’ll be there, and I’ll steer the conversation. You know I don’t have any problem asking tough questions.”

  “I know.” Risa winced. “I almost feel a little sorry for Greta.”

  “Which is exactly why I’ll be there,” Fina said. “I’m sorry Greta is sick, but my concern is for you, not her.”

  “Thank you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

  They conferred about Risa’s schedule and then moved on to other topics of conversation, including Haley. Fina didn’t mention the proposed visit to Miami. Hopefully, she’d successfully derail that plan before anything came of it.

  The waiter started to clear their plates, a process that took a considerable amount of time given his advanced age.

  “I think this conversation warrants something really sweet and sinful,” Fina said, ordering a slice of baklava for them to share.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Once the man had wandered off, Fina reached across the table and squeezed Risa’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

  Risa nodded. “I know. I just never thought I’d be in this position.”

  A few minutes later, the old man deposited a gleaming, sticky piece of baklava in front of them. Fina picked up a fork and broke through the crunchy top layer of phyllo.

  “There’s nothing weirder in this world than family,” she said, licking honey off her fork. “Or at least, that’s been my experience.”

  —

  According to the desk sergeant at police headquarters, Cristian and Pitney were unavailable, but Fina was welcome to wait. She checked her e-mail and left a message for Hal while sitting on a straight-backed wooden bench across from the main desk. It was not a seating arrangement conducive to lingering, but Fina wasn’t that easily dissuaded. As long as she could keep busy, she’d give them a half hour before giving up.

  Sharing the bench with her was a young woman who had the curious combination of a young face with signs of age that suggested a hard life. Her skin—pocked with youthful acne—contrasted with the dark smudges under her eyes. Her hair was stringy and shoulder-length, a yellowish blond except for an inch of dark brown growth at her scalp. She’d parked a stroller next to the bench, and the toddler in it keened intermittently. The mom scolded him, which was highly effective, until he started up again thirty seconds later. Fina wondered who they were waiting for. The baby daddy, perhaps? A sibling or parent? They were all depressing options.

  Cristian showed up a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. Fina watched as the mother appraised him. He touched Fina’s shoulder, and the young woman glanced at her. Her expression soured, but Fina couldn’t tell if it was because Fina was consorting with the enemy or because the young woman deemed her unworthy of Cristian’s attention.

  “Sorry you had to wait,” Cristian said, leading her upstairs to the squad room.

  “Sorry I didn’t call, but I thought I’d take a chance that you were in.”

  “How’s the hand?”

  “It’s fine. Peg Gillis took a look at it this morning.”

  “How are Frank and Peg?” Cristian asked.

  “They’re good.”

  She followed him down a hallway, bypassing the interrogation rooms. Out of sight, a man was hollering, but nobody seemed to notice. Cristian directed her into one of the interview rooms that was used for victims’ family members. The space was unthreatening with its couch, round table, and chairs. A bulletin board on the wall featured helpful posters about staying safe in the city and protecting your property. A couple of framed prints on the wall were clearly inspired by Monet. Fina wondered how Claude would feel about being the equivalent of the generic brand for the art world.

  Fina sat down at the table, and Cristian took the chair next to her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that note?” he asked.

  Fina shrugged. “What would you have done?”

  He was silent.

  “Exactly. There was nothing to do. You know I’m not shy about asking for favors, but there wasn’t anything you could have done. I kept my eyes open after I got it.”

  He stared at her. “You were burned by an incendiary device.”

  Fina held up her hand. “Barely. I’m fine, and now you can help me. So, who tried to burn me to a crisp?” she asked.

  Cristian grinned, despite his best efforts not to. “I don’t know yet, but we’re working on it. Your family isn’t being helpful, by the way.”

  She widened her eyes. “Really? That doesn’t sound like them at all.”

  “It’s very frustrating,” Cristian said.

  “I hear ya. I’ll see if I can get anything out of them,” Fina said.

  “I would appreciate it.”

  “I aim to please, Cristian. You know that.”

  He opened the laptop and tapped on a few buttons. “Here’s what we have so far.” The screen came to life, and he made the video player full-screen. “This is from one of the cameras in the parking garage.”

  “Did you check the tapes from Ludlow and Associates? I know we’ve got beefed-up security in the section we lease,” Fina said.

  “Yes, but there was nothing on them. I’m not surprised. The quality was good at least; your father springs for top-notch security.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about Carl.” Fina moved her chair closer to him and adjusted the machine so she had a better view. Cristian hit the play button, and a grainy video started. It showed a segment of parking garage and the fleet SUV.

  “Nothing happens for a while,” he said, advancing the frames with his mouse. “Until . . . there.”

  He slowed the video down to real time so Fina could watch as a man entered the frame. He was wearing a baseball hat and a hoodie, which obscured his face. He kneeled down next to the car for a minute or so, then got back up and moved out of the frame toward the hood of the car. A minute later, he reappeared before walking away and no
t returning.

  “Is it my imagination or was that guy really big?” she asked Cristian as he hit pause.

  “That guy was really big,” he agreed.

  “Definitely over six feet, right?”

  “We’re guessing around six feet five inches.”

  “But not just tall,” Fina said. “He also looks thick and broad, like he’s carrying a lot of weight.”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, that narrows it down a little.”

  “It would if we had a registry by height and weight,” Cristian said.

  “Well, can’t you search with those parameters?”

  “Sure, but only if the guy’s in the system.”

  “Hmm.”

  They watched the video a couple more times in silence.

  “I think he’s black. Do you agree?” Fina asked.

  “Or possibly Hispanic.”

  Fina stared at the images. “I hate these useless security systems. What’s the point?”

  “To some extent, it’s a deterrent.”

  “Not enough of one, obviously.” Fina leaned toward the computer. “What’s that?” She pointed at the area around one of his ankles.

  “Part of his sock?” Cristian asked.

  “An emblem or an insignia?”

  He enlarged the image. “Can’t tell. It could be a shadow or even dirt.”

  They were both studying the screen when Pitney walked into the room.

  “Do you recognize him?” she asked Fina. She stood next to Fina’s chair, her hands on her hips.

  “No. There’s not much to recognize beyond his size.”

  “Fina, what are we going to do about you and Gus Sibley?” Pitney asked.

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” Fina asked.

  Cristian shook his head and struggled to suppress a smile.

  “Don’t be a smart-ass,” Pitney said.

  “I’m not being a smart-ass. Has he contacted you about our most recent chat?”

  Pitney folded her arms across her ample chest. She was wearing navy blue pants and a chevron-patterned turtleneck in shades of greens and purple. Fina wanted to look away, but couldn’t, it was so hypnotizing.

  “No,” the lieutenant conceded.

  “So what’s the problem, Lieutenant? I know you find this hard to believe, but I don’t purposefully defy you to make your job more difficult.”

  “I do find that hard to believe. I think you’re playing out some parent-child issues.”

  “Well, of course I am, but not with you! I have Carl and Elaine for that.” Fina sat back in her chair. “I think that Gus Sibley is hiding something, and he shouldn’t be allowed to dictate if and how he’s investigated just because he’s rich and well known.”

  Pitney rolled her eyes. “Like your family doesn’t play the rich and famous card all the time.”

  “Actually, I would argue that we’re made an example of because we’re rich and infamous, and most of our clients aren’t rich and famous. At least not until we start working for them.”

  “Gus Sibley is not calling the shots,” Pitney said. “We’ll investigate him as much as we want to.”

  “Fine, and if he wants to sue me for harassment, he’s welcome to,” Fina said. “In the meantime, he’s got us going around in circles instead of going after him. By the way—where was he the night that Liz was attacked?”

  Pitney sighed.

  “He was at home with his wife,” Cristian said.

  “Ah. An alibi from the one person who can’t testify against him. That’s awfully convenient.”

  “We’re on top of it, Fina,” Pitney insisted, “but you’re wasting my time when I’m hauled into my captain’s office and he chews me out because a citizen is complaining.”

  Fina held her hands up in a motion of surrender. “I get that, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop doing my job because Gus or your boss doesn’t like it.”

  Pitney stared at her. Cristian’s gaze bounced between the two women.

  “Do not piss him off unnecessarily,” Pitney finally said.

  Fina started to protest, but the lieutenant cut her off. “And don’t pretend that you don’t do that, because you do. Do your job, but try not to be a pain in the ass, at least not any more than usual.”

  “Fine. I will do my best to behave.”

  Pitney snorted.

  Fina rose from her seat and started out the door. “Thanks for sharing the video with me. I’ll see if I can get some info from Scotty.”

  “That would be a refreshing change,” Pitney said.

  “I look forward to seeing you guys at the funeral,” Fina said.

  She returned to her car and contemplated the video. Fina didn’t recognize the man on the tape, and although she was happy it was a lead, she didn’t find it particularly reassuring.

  She was being followed by the Jolly Green Giant.

  —

  Her presence was requested at a family dinner, which was enough for Fina to lose her appetite. She had no interest in attending, but knew she would be the topic of conversation either way. A more mature person might have recognized the futility of showing up—Elaine and Carl, in particular, would think what they wanted to think—but Fina still clung to the idea that defending herself wasn’t completely without merit.

  Tonight’s dinner was being hosted by Patty, and Fina always got a small thrill watching her mother be relegated to second-in-command. Patty gave Elaine tasks to do and let her do things her way, but it was clear that it was Patty’s house, not Elaine’s.

  The two women were in the kitchen prepping dinner when Fina arrived. Her nephews were playing a game on the Xbox, and Haley was on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

  “Where’s everyone else?” Fina asked.

  “Scotty is upstairs getting changed. Your dad and Matthew should be here any minute,” Patty said, tending to a couple of large steaks under the broiler.

  “Hi, Mom,” Fina said. She pulled a diet soda from the refrigerator. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked Patty.

  “I don’t think so. Not unless Mom needs help with the salad,” Patty said. Fina never got used to hearing Patty refer to Elaine as “Mom.” Why would she claim the woman as her own if she wasn’t legally obligated to do so?

  “No,” Elaine said. “You got here the moment I finished.”

  “Well, I didn’t time it that way,” Fina said.

  Elaine didn’t respond.

  Haley wandered over to Fina and took hold of her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Fina rotated her wrist for her niece’s inspection. “Just a minor burn.”

  “I wouldn’t call that minor,” Elaine muttered under her breath.

  “She’s talking about her arm, Gammy,” Haley clarified.

  “Right,” Fina said. Her pulse quickened. “I wasn’t talking about the fire.”

  Patty put the broiler pan on the stovetop with a bit more force than seemed necessary. Fina looked at her, but Patty avoided her gaze.

  “Haley, have you shown Gammy that new outfit you got?” Fina asked.

  Her niece looked perplexed. “Which outfit?”

  “I thought you got a new dress that you wanted to show her.” Fina gave her an imploring look. “Why don’t you show her, and I’ll finish helping Aunt Patty.”

  A glimmer of understanding crossed Haley’s face. “Come on, Gammy. I have some stuff to show you in my room.”

  Elaine followed her granddaughter out of the kitchen, and Fina walked around the island toward Patty.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Fina asked. The boys were engrossed in their game across the room.

  Patty took off her oven mitts and leaned her hip against the counter. “I can’t deal with something happening to him, Fina.”


  “I know.”

  “Do you?” Patty asked. “I know we all laugh about the scrapes you get into, but it’s different when Scotty’s at risk, too.”

  “We don’t know for sure that I was the target,” Fina said, defensiveness creeping into her voice.

  “Oh, come on, Fina.”

  “We don’t! You guys are all acting like Scotty works for the Dalai Lama. He defends and sues all kinds of creeps.”

  “But they’re not violent!” Patty insisted.

  Fina stared at her. “The whole reason Dad had me go with him yesterday was because he was afraid of it getting violent! He wanted me to provide protection for Scotty’s mafioso girlfriend client.”

  Patty transferred one of the steaks to a cutting board and pulled out an electric carving knife from a drawer.

  “The last thing I want to do is put anyone else in danger,” Fina said, “but I’m tired of this collective fantasy that I’m the only one involved with people of questionable character. We all work for the same firm.”

  Patty cut into the meat. The knife made a soft whirring sound as red juices flowed from the flesh.

  “But Scotty said that your current case isn’t for the firm,” Patty said.

  “No, but all the other times I’ve been hurt—when I’ve been run off the road, when I was jumped in my garage—those were Ludlow and Associates cases. I may be on the front lines, but Dad and Scotty and Matthew are right behind me.”

  “I just couldn’t deal if something happened to him,” Patty repeated.

  Fina took a deep breath. “I understand that, and I’m sorry if he was in danger because of me.”

  Patty cleaved a strip of fat from the steak. “It just really freaked me out. I’m used to this stuff happening to you, and I know you can handle it, but Scotty isn’t you.”

  “No, he’s not, and I know that it was scary for him, and it was scary for you to hear about it.” Fina wanted to say that it was scary for her, too, but nobody wanted to hear that. “But he’s fine, and I’m fine. I spoke with Cristian and Lieutenant Pitney this afternoon, and there’s a lead they’re following.”

  “That’s good,” Patty said, covering the platter of meat with aluminum foil before handing Fina the bowl of salad. “Can you put this on the table?”