“I’ll be waiting,” Stella told him, slowly replacing the phone in the cradle.
chapter
SIXTEEN
Holly strode past Janet Hernandez without speaking, slammed the door behind her, and promptly exploded. Picking up all the files and papers from her desk, she began hurling them across the room. “Fuck,” she yelled, tossing the last file at the door and watching as the papers tumbled out onto the carpeting.
Hearing all the commotion in Holly’s office, Janet cracked the door and looked in. “Are you okay?” she said. “It sounded like you were throwing things.”
“No,” Holly shouted, hurling another file at the wall, “I’m not okay. I did all this work for nothing. I look like an idiot now, and Stella Cataloni is the toast of the town.” She picked up the morning paper and tossed it at the woman. “Her picture’s on the front page of the fucking Chronicle. Not only did she solve the Randall homicide, they’re talking like she saved the city from bankruptcy and swept the police department clean of corruption. Shit,” she sneered, “Stella might as well run for mayor. She’d probably win by a landslide.”
“I’ve already seen it,” the woman said meekly. “Ray works at the Chronicle, remember?” She started to leave and then added, “You asked me to check the newspaper articles around the time of the fire. I found something, Holly. Two days before the fire, the foundation in the Happy Day Kindergarten caved in and twenty-three children were seriously injured. Two children were killed. Evidently the school was built on top of a landfill and a sinkhole developed, causing the foundation to collapse.”
“What’s interesting about that?” Holly said. “What could a kindergarten have to do with a homicide case?”
“Because you also asked me to check with the building inspector’s office,” Janet said. “You wanted to find out what Stella’s father was working on when he died.”
“So,” Holly said, flicking the tips of her fingernails, “what was he working on? This Happy Day thing, I gather. A floor caving in doesn’t sound sinister enough to cause someone to commit murder. It was an accident, right? There was no intent involved. The development company probably wasn’t aware there had ever been a landfill on the property.”
Janet advanced to Holly’s desk and took a chair facing her. “The developers who sold the kindergarten were sued by the school, and ended up paying for all the damages. Then all the parents of the injured children sued.”
At last Holly was paying attention. “Go on,” she said. “I’m listening.”
“Here’s the interesting part,” Janet said, flipping through the papers in her lap. “Landfills are everywhere. Holly. For all we know, the building we’re in right now might be sitting on top of an old landfill. As long as the foundation is sturdy, there shouldn’t be a problem.” She removed an eight-by-ten photo from the file and handed it to her. “Look at this, and maybe you’ll understand the enormity of what occurred at the Happy Day school.”
Holly stared at the picture. The words Happy Day were written across the top margin in magic marker. An enormous hole was visible in the center of a room. Chairs were toppled toward the hole, the concrete cracked in huge jagged chunks. But it was the images of the children that shook Holly and made her want to cry. This could be her own daughter. Tiny bodies were laid out on stretchers, blood and debris were all over their faces, their eyes stark with terror. The children’s drawings on the walls, the scattered toys, the brightly painted furniture looked almost obscene next to the destruction.
“Awful,” Holly said, placing the photo down on her desk. “Can you imagine how horrifying it must have been for the children to be sucked into a hole like that? These kids were probably traumatized for life. No wonder there were lawsuits. The person responsible for this should be taken out and shot.”
“When I was little,” Janet said, “I used to have nightmares about the devil pulling me under the ground. I guess these kids lived it for real, huh?”
“Yeah,” Holly said, then she snapped out of it. “Hey, what do I care, huh? My career’s in the drink. Maybe I should just resign and go to work for the Legal Aid Society or something. I‘11 never be anything but a peon around this place.”
“That’s not true. Holly,” Janet said. “Don’t you see? Maybe the pension scam and Stella’s uncle had nothing to do with the fire that killed her parents. According to Randall, her father was arguing with someone on the front lawn. It could have been over the Happy Day cave-in.”
“Everyone is convinced Clem Cataloni killed Randall,” Holly said. “Why would he kill Randall if he wasn’t guilty of setting the fire?”
“Maybe he didn’t kill Randall,” Janet said.
“Then who did?”
“The person or persons who poured the Happy Day foundation.”
Holly suddenly saw a way out of her career morass. She leaned back in her chair and studied the ceiling. “Let me see if I understand you right,” she said. “If the foundation wasn’t reinforced, then the liability would fall on the people who poured the foundation rather than the development company who sold them the land?”
“Right,” Janet said. “They were probably cutting corners, see, trying to save on materials. They do things like this all the time in the building trade. They quote a high sum and then scrimp, using inferior materials or skipping certain aspects of the job that they think no one will notice. They can pocket a lot of money this way, and in most cases no one’s the wiser.”
“Okay,” Holly said, leaning forward and placing her palms on the desk, “who poured the foundation?”
Janet cleared her throat. “I don’t know yet,” she said. “The Sterling Corporation handled the land transaction. I managed to find out that a company named Littlefield Construction contracted to build the school. Littlefield subcontracted a lot of the work to other people, though, and this is where I hit a brick wall. They went out of business shortly after the fire, Holly. After sixteen years I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to get our hands on the records to find out who poured the foundation.”
“Of course you can,” Holly said. “Get the court file on the lawsuit. It should list all the subcontractors they used.”
“You’re right,” Janet said. “Even if they don’t have the file in the regular stacks at the courthouse, they should have it in archives.”
“They’ve got to have it somewhere,” she shrugged. “Get right on it. I might be able to turn this whole thing around, don’t you see?” She grinned broadly. “Then Stella will be the one with egg on her face instead of me.”
She picked up the phone to make a call, dismissing Janet with a flick of her hand. “You won’t believe what I came up with, Frank,” she told Minor. “I’ve been working night and day on it, and let me tell you, we’re going to blow everyone out of the ballpark if I’m right.” As Janet rose from her chair, Holly looked right through her as if she were a ghost. “Sometimes I amaze myself. This might be the most brilliant work I’ve ever done.”
Janet stood there with her mouth open. She had been the one to put it together, and now Holly was going to take all the credit. She stormed out of the room. She would have been happy with just a few words of appreciation, but she knew they would not be forthcoming. Holly was a consummate consumer. It wasn’t goods and services she gobbled up, however, it was human beings. She took whatever talents a person possessed and used them as her own.
Seething, Janet called Ray at the Chronicle. “I can’t take it anymore,” she told him. “I’m so angry right now that I’m shaking. Holly didn’t appreciate anything I did. You should hear her, Ray. She’s in there bragging to Frank Minor, telling him she did all the work herself.”
“Whatever you want to do,” he said. “If you want to start to law school in September, that’s fine with me. Turn in your resignation, baby, and get the hell out of there. I’ve got some money set aside. We’ll get by.”
“Fine,” Janet said. “But I’m going to do more than just quit, Ray.” Before he had a chance t
o ask her what she meant, Janet disconnected.
Sitting down at her word processor, she typed out her resignation, signed it, and braced it against her computer. Then she placed all four phone lines on hold, and picked up the paperwork she had worked so hard to prepare. Grabbing her purse off the desk, she walked straight out of the building.
The day was as long and hectic as Stella had anticipated. She spent the better part of the morning sequestered in an interview room at the Houston P.D, going over her statement. After lunch, the police agreed to release Brenda Anderson’s laptop computer, and Stella drove to Mario’s apartment to try and find the information Brenda had stored regarding the pension scam. “Damn,” she said, “I just can’t figure this out. Do you know anything about computers, Mario?”
“A little,” he said, pulling up a chair next to her at the kitchen table. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I don’t know where to start,” Stella sighed, staring at a blank screen. “No matter what Pilgrim told us, we have to substantiate it. Brenda has all the names of the officers involved, plus all the stuff from the other police agencies. I agreed to deliver this information to Fitzgerald right away. Aunt Sarah has already hired an attorney.”
“The first thing you have to do is pull up the menu,” Mario said, leaning across Stella and striking a few keys. Once the menu flashed on the screen, he hit the list files button and a long list appeared. “Now all you have to do is figure out which file it’s in,” he told her. “Does anything on this list ring a bell?”
“No,” Stella said, peering at all the words and symbols as Mario clicked through the pages.
“Then you’ll have to look in every file.”
“That could take days,” she said. “As soon as I get Fitzgerald this information they’re going to drop the charges against me. I need to find this stuff today, Mario. Sam is coming to Houston tomorrow and I want to be able to’ get his money refunded. A hundred grand can earn a lot of interest. It’s not right that he’s deprived of his savings because of me.”
“Move over,” Mario said, standing to take Stella’s seat. “I’ll try to find it.”
“Are you sure?” Stella said. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he said, smiling. They exchanged places, and he was about to hit a key when he looked over and said, “I’m clean, you know. I haven’t used in over a week.”
“A week isn’t a very long time,” she said softly. “You need to get in a treatment program. You know you can’t do it by yourself. Besides, if you’re in a program when you go to court, they’ll be more receptive to granting you probation.”
“I’ve already checked a few programs out,” he told her. “But I don’t need to go in a hospital. I just need a support group. Narcotics Anonymous is a good program. What do you think? I went to one of their meetings a few days ago, and it was pretty good.”
“Well, if you like it,” Stella said, “that’s half the battle right there. I’ve heard good things about N.A. What about your court case?”
“It’s scheduled for next week,” he said. “Should I hire an attorney?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “Do you have the money?”
Mario frowned. “I’m a little short on cash right now.”
“Figures,” she said. “You’ve been snorting everything you earn, right?”
“More or less,” he said, then took a deep breath. “Since we’re on the subject of my disgusting behavior, I might as well let it all hang. I got involved with Holly, Stella. I didn’t mean to get mixed up with her. It just happened.”
“What are you saying?” Stella said, a fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. “You mean you cut a deal with her?”
“No,” he said. “I slept with her.”
“You what?” she shouted.
“You heard me,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s over now. I just feel bad that I didn’t tell you. To be perfectly honest, I was with Holly the night before Randall was shot. That’s why I was so nervous when you started quizzing me. I knew you’d go through the roof.”
She sprang to her feet and began pacing. “How did this come about?”
“After they decided to file charges against you,” he said, “Holly called me up and told me she would be handling my drug case. I was thrilled, you know. I thought I had an edge going. She asked me to stop by her house later that night and discuss it. You may think I was a fool, Stella, but when I slept with her, I really thought it would benefit both of us. I thought she was on our side, and the closer I got to her, the easier it would be for you to get off. It was only later that I realized the truth, that she wanted me to testify against you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I refused, Stella. I told her I’d rather go to prison than do anything to hurt you.”
“Great,” Stella said, stopping to face him squarely. “Are there any other secrets you want to tell me about? I mean, maybe you robbed a few banks along the way.”
“That’s it,” Mario said, standing and walking over to her. “I’m sorry, Stella.” He reached out to embrace her, but his sister moved away. “Don’t do this to me, Stel,” he said. “Don’t freeze me out. I’m only human. For years I’ve carried around all this guilt over the fire. It made me feel like two cents knowing that you were burned and I walked away without a scratch.”
“And that’s why you were using cocaine?” she said. “There’s no other reason? So it’s all my fault.”
“No,” he said, “you’re right. I’m just making up excuses.”
They stood there for some time before Stella weakened and pulled him into her arms. “I love you,” she said. “Promise me you’ll never put that shit in your body again.”
“I won’t,” he said, hugging her tight. When he pulled away he was smiling. “If you want me to find those files, I better get busy.”
Three o’clock rolled around and Mario still hadn’t retrieved the information Stella needed. “I’ve got an idea,” Stella said. Picking up the phone, she dialed Sam’s home number. “Is this Adam?” she said when a young voice answered.
“Stella Cataloni,” she said. “How’s it goings Adam?”
“My dad’s not home yet,” he told her. “Want me to have him call you when he gets here? We’re coming to see you tomorrow night, you know. I’ve never been to an Astros’ game, and they’re one of my favorite teams.”
“I didn’t call to talk to your father,” Stella told him. “I thought maybe you could help me, Adam. I’ve got a problem finding something in a friend’s computer.”
“Really?” he said. “What kind of computer is it?”
“Hold on, I’m going to let you talk to my brother,” Stella said, handing the phone over.
They talked for a while and Adam gave Mario a few suggestions, but they still couldn’t retrieve the information. Finally Adam asked if the computer had a modem. When Mario said he thought it did, Adam told him how to hook it up to the phone line. “I bet what you’re looking for is in her E-mail,” he said. “If she sent out a lot of inquiries, the people probably answered her back that way.”
Adam walked Mario through the procedure to get into Anderson’s electronic mailbox. “Wow,” Mario said, shocked at the number of messages. “There’s fifty-three messages,” he said. “This must be the right place.”
“Look at the dates,” the boy said. “Some of them could be from a long time ago. Sometimes people forget to delete the messages once they’ve read them.”
“Most of them are from yesterday or the day before,” he said. “Now what do I do?”
“Read them, I guess,” Adam said. “Hey, you’re on your own now. I’ve got to get my homework done before my dad gets home. What grade are you in, anyway?”
Mario laughed. “School’s over for me, sport.”
“You mean you dropped out?” Adam said. “See, that wouldn’t have happened if you’d learned how to use a computer. It’s not too late, though. You can always go back. Besides,” he ad
ded in a conspiratorial whisper, “there’s all these neat bulletin boards where you can meet girls. You can flirt with them all you want and they don’t even know how old you are.”
“Gee, thanks,” Mario said, hanging up the phone. “Some kid you turned me on to,” he told Stella, chuckling. “Real smart ass.”
“Smart ass doesn’t apply if you’re really smart.” Stella took a seat next to Mario and they began to read through the messages. They hadn’t scrolled through the first screen when she thought of a way to speed up the process. “Can’t we just print all this stuff and divide it up?”
“Good idea,” Mario said. “It’ll only take a few minutes to hook up the printer. For that, I don’t even need the whiz kid.”
Once they printed out the messages, Mario gave Stella half of them and took the other half for himself. Over the next hour, they compiled a list of more than a hundred men who had received disability pensions as a result of their uncle’s scam. They came from departments all over the state. “Why did he have to stay within the state?”
Mario asked, looking over the dates. “The man was so greedy, why didn’t he recruit on a national basis?”
“Simple,” Stella explained. “Police officers have to be trained and certified in the state where they work. Since many of them were legitimately disabled, they would have never made it through another police academy.”
“I see,” he said. “Just think—over a hundred salaries. Do you realize how much money we’re talking about?”
“A lot,” Stella said. “And don’t forget, this could be just the tip of the iceberg. Anderson only went over the records of officers who had transferred in from other departments. There’s no telling how many men who were already with the Houston P.D. went for Uncle Clem’s scheme.”
“Let’s say the average monthly pension is a grand a month, or twelve thousand a year per man,” Mario said, jotting some numbers down on a piece of paper. “The city would be out a hundred twenty grand a year. Then you have to determine how many years these guys have been on the take. One guy has been receiving a pension for over eighteen years. That’s”—he did the math in his head—“over two hundred thousand dollars.”
Trial by Fire Page 29