Cold Caller

by Jason Starr

  “Who told you that?”

  “Various sources. I understand you had an argument with him in July and stormed out of the office extremely upset. Then when you returned Mr. O’Brien made you apologize to the entire department.”

  “That was ages ago,” I said. “Ed and I got along great after that. I mean he wouldn’t have made me his assistant if he hated me, would he?”

  “That’s true,” the detective said, and I could tell that this point puzzled him.

  “Are there any more questions?” I asked.

  “There’s just one last piece of business, Mr. Moss, then I’ll let you get back to your lunch. You said you were home by six-thirty the evening of the murder. Do you have any proof of that?”

  “No, actually I don’t,” I said. “I took the subway home that night.”

  “You didn’t stop anywhere to buy anything?”

  I shook my head.

  “Didn’t get off the subway?”

  I shook my head again.

  “What about when you got home? Was there anybody there?”

  “My girlfriend, I mean my fiancée. She didn’t get home until a little after eight.”

  “And you took the 6 train home?”

  “I took the shuttle to Times Square then switched for the 6 at Grand Central.”

  “The reason I ask is Mr. O’Brien’s wallet was found in a public garbage can near Hunter College. I realized that Hunter College is on your route home.”

  “But I don’t get out at Hunter College. I get out at Ninety-sixth Street, so that has nothing to do with me, does it?”

  “I suppose not,” he said.

  His dark eyes gazed at me for a few more seconds, then he stood up.

  “I appreciate your taking the time,” he said. “If I have any more questions, I’ll be in touch.”

  I watched to see if he would question anyone else before he left the office. He didn’t.

  I decided that things had gone well, or at least as well as I could have hoped. Although Detective Figula didn’t seem entirely convinced of my innocence, his evidence against me was very circumstantial. As long as there were no new developments, I knew I’d be fine.

  The detective wasn’t gone a minute when Mike came into my office. The way he was smirking, I knew that he had been watching my conversation with the detective.

  “So what was that all about?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Nothing at all actually.”

  Mike hesitated, as if trying to figure out the deeper meaning of my words.

  “When you say nothing, do you mean he didn’t say anything, or that he didn’t say anything important?”

  “I really don’t feel like discussing it now,” I said, holding up my sandwich. “I’m trying to finish my lunch.”

  “I’m just curious why he came to ask you questions and he didn’t question anybody else.”

  “He wanted to know about the computer system,” I said. “Just a couple of questions about the list of log-out times I’d compiled. Now will you get out of here?”

  He didn’t move.

  “He seemed to be asking you more than a couple of questions,” he said. “They all had to do with the computer system?”

  “This is your final warning. If you don’t get out of here right now –”

  “Okay, okay,” Mike said. “You don’t have to get so hot headed. I was just curious.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”

  “So have all of us, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

  “You’re right. Forgive me.”

  “It’s okay,” Mike said suddenly friendly. “I understand. The only reason I was asking so many questions is I was surprised when I saw a cop here again. I mean I wondered if there were any new suspects in the case.”

  “Not that I know of,” I said.

  “I guess they’re going to let Greg go now. At least that’s the way it sounds on the news.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “As long as justice is served in the end, I don’t really care who did it.”

  “Do you still think Greg did it?”

  “I don’t think I ever really had an opinion.”

  “I don’t think he did it,” Mike said. “I mean the police still haven’t explained how he got into the office that day. If he rang the bell, did Ed just let him in? Besides, it just didn’t make sense that he would come back to the office with the intention of killing Ed.”

  “Maybe he didn’t intend to kill him,” I said. “Maybe they were fighting, like that other time they fought, and it just happened.”

  “I still don’t buy it. I believe he had a motive to get angry at him, I don’t believe he had a motive to kill him.”

  “You never know,” I said. “He was pretty upset about his commissions and you know how Ed always made those racist comments.”

  “But his commissions were only a few hundred dollars and he wouldn’t have killed Ed just because he insulted him. Don’t get me wrong, I never liked Greg very much myself and I’m not saying I think it’s impossible that he killed Ed. I just don’t think it’s beyond reasonable doubt that someone else did it.”

  There was suddenly an accusing tone in Mike’s voice. I didn’t know exactly what he was getting at, but I had a few ideas.

  “The New York police are extremely competent,” I said. “If someone else did it I’m sure they’ll eventually figure it out.”

  “It’s funny the way it all worked out for you though, isn’t it?” he said.

  “Funny?”

  “Maybe funny’s the wrong word. Convenient. That’s better. I mean there you were one day about to be fired, and here you are now, running the whole department.”

  “You’re walking on very thin ice, Mike. You better watch out.”

  “Oh, I’m not accusing you of anything,” he said. “I know you didn’t kill Ed. All I’m saying is you could make out a pretty good case why you’d want to.”

  “You could make a case why you’d want to kill Ed too,” I said.

  “Me? Why would I want to kill him?”

  “There’re a lot of reasons. You must not have been thrilled when Ed overlooked you and made me his assistant. Maybe you were so enraged that it drove you to murder.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Maybe I was a little angry at him, but I wasn’t enraged.”

  “It could be enough to make you into a suspect. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if the police came back here and asked you some more questions.”

  “They’d never do that,” Mike said defensively. “Never in a million years.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. After all, they do have some evidence against you. According to the computer records I compiled, you were the last employee to leave the office the day Ed was killed.”

  “What are you talking about? I left at five o’clock that day.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “The time’s on my time card.”

  “The police don’t know for sure what time Ed was killed. You could have clocked out on the time clock and logged out of your computer by five o’clock, then stayed around to kill Ed later on. Of course I’m not accusing you of anything, but you never know what the police might think. After all, they arrested Greg on evidence just as circumstantial.”

  I could tell that I had genuinely frightened Mike. My strategy of putting him on the defensive had worked perfectly. Every good sales person knows that it’s impossible to be on the defensive and offensive at the same time. So by accusing Mike, he had been unable to continue his accusations against me!

  But I knew this effect would not last forever. Eventually Mike’s suspicions would surface again, but for now I was glad that I had avoided an uncomfortable situation.

  The rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t concentrate on my work. Trying to settle my nerves, I took frequent trips to the concession machines and the bathroom. I felt that everyone I passed in the hallways was looking at me different
ly from usual. It was as if they all knew that I was guilty and they were just waiting for me to admit it. I couldn’t convince myself that it was all in my imagination, that they were looking at me no differently than they always did. I said hello to Maria, and instead of saying hello back, she just smiled politely. Did this mean that she knew something? When I stopped by Nelson’s office, he was unusually curt. Did he suspect me too? There wasn’t one person I trusted. Everyone was out to get me. I was absolutely certain of it.

  Paranoia is very tiring. By five o’clock I was so physically and mentally exhausted that I could barely move. I didn’t know how I’d find the energy to travel home. Nevertheless, I headed toward the Times Square subway station.

  On Forty-third Street, near Seventh Avenue, I heard a woman call out my name behind me. I turned around and saw a blond woman wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans and dark sunglasses. She looked familiar, but I didn’t know how I knew her.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Were you talking to me?”

  “You remember me, don’t you, Bill?” she said.

  Her voice was unmistakable. She was Denise, the prostitute I’d had sex with the other day. In street clothes, without the makeup, she looked like an average, not particularly attractive woman.

  I decided to ignore her. I kept walking toward Seventh Avenue, but she started walking next to me.

  “I wouldn’t leave if I was you,” she said. “You may be making a big mistake.”

  “I don’t know who you are.”

  “Yeah, right. Don’t give me none of that shit. You knew me enough to fuck me the other day and you knew me enough to beat me up afterwards.”

  I kept walking.

  “I’m warning you,” she said. “I’m not fooling around neither. You better hear what I have to say or you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

  I stopped.

  “Look,” I said, “I don’t want to have anything to do with you, okay? As you can see, your friends already got even with me for what I did to you. Now let’s just pretend we never met each other, okay?”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “What do you want from me,” I said, “an apology?”

  “I want ten thousand dollars,” she said.

  I stared at her incredulously, then I said, “Please. Just do us both a favor and leave me alone.”

  “I’m not doing anything till you give me the money.”

  “I’m not giving you any money.”

  “It’s up to you. If you don’t give it to me I’ll just have to go to the police.”

  I started away again, then stopped. I looked at her.

  “What do you mean, the police?”

  “It has to do with that guy you murdered,” she said. “If you want to know more about it, meet me in fifteen minutes at the pizza place on Eighth near Forty-fifth. I’ll be at the table in the back. And don’t follow me there neither. If you follow me, I’m going right to the precinct.”

  I watched her walk back toward Eighth Avenue. I kept watching until her curvy body turned the corner. I guess you could say I was in a state of shock. I just stood there, stunned, unable to think. Being so tired didn’t help. I wondered if it was possible I had imagined the whole conversation. Maybe she had never even been there. After all, the whole thing was unreal. How could she possibly know I murdered Ed? There was absolutely no explanation for it. None at all.

  I decided that she must have said something else, or maybe I’d misunderstood her. She’d said, “It has to do with that guy you murdered.” She didn’t say it had to do with Ed’s murder. Maybe she thought I’d murdered someone else. That had to be it. There had to be some big mistake.

  But I couldn’t go home and forget about it. I had to meet her to find out what exactly she knew.

  I waited a few more minutes, then headed to the pizzeria. It was a narrow place with a counter to the left and windows to the right. As promised, she was sitting at the table in the very back of the restaurant, her back facing the door. I immediately recognized the strong odor of her perfume. It reminded me of her naked body, the burn scars on her legs.

  “I had a feeling you’d show up on time,” she said. “Just sit down and don’t make a scene.”

  I sat down across from her and said, “I just came here to tell you that you’re making a mistake. I don’t know why you think I murdered someone, but I want you to know that you’re absolutely wrong.”

  “If I was wrong you wouldn’t be here,” she said. “Now I know I was right.”

  “Right about what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t give me the stupid routine ’cause it ain’t gonna work, honey. I want the money tomorrow night at eight o’clock. I’ll be at Seventeenth Street between Fifth and Sixth. There’s a parking lot in the middle of the block, the north side. Walk to the back, behind the dumpster, and wait there. I’ll show up and you’ll give me the money. If you’re not there I’ll go right to the precinct. If you don’t –”

  “Hold up,” I said. “Just hold up, all right? First of all, I don’t have any money. Second of all, why do you think I’d give it to you if I did?”

  “Because if you don’t you’re gonna go to jail.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “There you go, playing stupid again. I already know what you did, honey. You might as well just admit I got you.”

  “I only came here because I was confused,” I said. “You said something about a murder and I wanted to talk to you before you embarrassed yourself and brought your story to the police. But if that’s what you want to do, be my guest.”

  “You killed your boss,” she said. “Now you think I don’t got anything on you?”

  I stared at her, looking at my reflection in her sunglasses. I was two little heads that looked like they were drifting farther and farther away.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I think you’re making this up to try to extort money from me.”

  “The cops came around the other night, the night after your boss was murdered, and they were asking people if they saw anything the night before. Since I was working near your building that night and they know me from around there, they asked me too. I said what time are we talking about and the cop said between six-thirty and seven. And I told him I don’t know nothing about any murder, but I remembered seeing you that night, later on, like around seven-fifteen. I knew because I was with my girlfriend that night and when you came out of your building I told her, see that’s the guy, that’s the guy who slapped me around. But I didn’t tell the cops what I knew because I don’t like to help out the cops a lot if you know what I mean. Plus, I didn’t really think what I saw meant anything. I mean it was later than the cops said and I had no reason to think you killed anybody. Then it hit me later on, when everybody was talking about it in the papers and everything, that maybe it did mean something. I mean you slapped me around so maybe you slapped your boss around too, maybe you got a temper with everybody. I didn’t know for sure if you were involved, but I thought it was worth a shot. So I came up with the idea to meet you on the street and see how you acted. I knew if you looked at me like I was crazy and went home that you had nothing to do with it. Then I would’ve just gone on with my life and forgot all about it. But when you stopped and talked to me I knew I was right. Then when you showed up here I knew it for sure.”

  “It’s a nice story,” I said. “Unfortunately it’s all bullshit.”

  “Do what you want to do,” she said. “If you don’t want to give me the money I’ll just go right to the precinct. I’m sure I can make some deal there. Maybe if I give’em the dope on you they won’t bust me as much or they’ll give me some kind of reward. I just thought I’d give you the chance to save yourself and to make a little money on the side. But if you can’t do it, you can’t do it.”

  She started to get up. I grabbed her arm.

  “Sit,” I said.

  She pulled her arm back ang
rily and sat down.

  “I’m not gonna play this shit with you,” she said. “Are you gonna give me the money or ain’t you?”

  “I don’t have the money.”

  “Too bad for you then.”

  “But we’ll make out some other deal,” I said. “I mean I’m sure there’s something you want that I can give you.”

  “All I want is cash,” she said. “Green and white American dollars. Ten thousand of them.”

  “I don’t have ten thousand dollars!”

  I was yelling. A few people on line at the counter looked in our direction. Denise stared at me for a few seconds, then she took off her sunglasses. I was surprised to see that she still had bruises under her eyes. Until then I hadn’t realized how hard I’d hit her that day.

  “How much money do you have?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m broke.”

  “Bullshit. You’re wearing a suit. You got cash.”

  “I started a new job a few weeks ago. I’m telling you, I don’t have anything.”

  “What about your wife or your girlfriend?”

  “I’m not married and I’m not seeing anyone,” I said. “You see? What you want is impossible.”

  “What about your family?”

  “My parents are dead. I don’t have a family.”

  She paused, putting her sunglasses back on.

  “Then you’ll give me payments,” she said. “Four pay­ments of twenty-five hundred bucks, one payment every week. If you don’t have the money you better find it ’cause I ain’t joking around. You saw what my friends did to you before. They’ll do the same thing again, maybe worse if you try to fuck around on me.”

  “Give me a break.”

  “Eight o’clock,” she said, standing up. “If you’re a minute late I’m going to the precinct. And you better be there alone or the deal’s off.”

  “Why should I trust you?” I said. “How do I know if I give you the money you won’t ask me for more? Or how do I know you won’t just take the story to the police anyway?”

  “You don’t,” she said. “But I guess it’s the only chance you’ve got.”

  She walked away, shaking her butt back and forth. Helplessly, I watched her cross Forty-sixth Street and disappear somewhere on Eighth Avenue.