by Linda Barlow
“So is it fair to say that while you would not count on him to start from scratch and create an original plan for a new building, you would trust him more to attend to the minute details of a project, like the individual specifications about grades of steel, thicknesses of bolts, and things of that nature?”
“That pretty much sums it up, yes. He is good on structural details.”
The detective paused and once again examined his notebook. Where was he going with this? she wondered.
“Mr. Canin was recently fired from Brody Associates, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the reason for that firing?”
“Mr. Brody did not consult me about it, no.”
“As far as you know, had Mr. Canin’s work been incompetent in any way?”
She shrugged. “That depends so much on personal opinion. His inability to conceptualize is certainly a weakness. I had problems with him in that regard when he was working for me.”
“But are you aware of any specific reason why he was fired? Any recent job that he screwed up on, for example? Any particular problem that one could point a finger to and say, ‘This guy is doing a lousy job’?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t. But Sidney had some projects that I had nothing to do with. It’s certainly possible that Sam—Mr. Brody—could have known of something like that. I suggest you discuss it with him, if you haven’t already.”
The detective’s expression was noncommittal.
Annie shifted in her chair. “If I might ask, what does this have to do with Giuseppe’s death?”
Instead of answering directly, Detective Foster said, “What about Darcy Fuentes? How would you evaluate her expertise as an architect?”
She was taken aback. “Darcy? Why, she’s terrific. She has a sterling reputation. She’s won some of the most prestigious awards in the industry. Her work is creative, artistically beautiful, and supremely functional. She’s one of the best.”
If Foster was impressed he didn’t show it. “Is there any truth to the observation that Ms. Fuentes is quite the opposite of Mr. Canin in terms of the attention she gives to the finer details of her projects?”
“What exactly do you mean?”
He closed his notebook, and his expression hardened as he said, “In short, Ms. Jefferson, it has been suggested by several people that talented though the woman is conceptually and artistically, she is not known for her attentiveness to detail. That when it comes down to actually drawing up the final plans and specifications for a project, Ms. Fuentes usually turns this work over to her associates. That on the occasions when she fails to turn this work over to someone else, there are problems. And that there are structural problems with the cathedral, a project that Ms. Fuentes designed largely on her own.”
“That is nonsense,” Annie said indignantly. “There are no structural problems with the cathedral—the work has gone remarkably smoothly all these months.”
“Not according to Sidney Canin,” Foster said. “In fact, it’s his contention that Brody Associates rejected the suggestions he made for improvements in the engineering specifications at the time the plans were drawn up. There were^ several areas in which Canin felt that errors had occurred, but when he tried to convince anybody else at the firm of this, he was singularly unsuccessful.”
Annie cleared her throat. “Detective Foster, please consider the situation from another perspective. You have to understand Sidney. He’s generally a negative person, someone who sees in everything a disaster waiting to happen. He always exaggerates problems and never has the grace to apologize when he’s proven wrong. Besides, don’t forget, he was recently fired. He probably feels bitter about it, and this whole story may simply be vindictiveness on his part.”
“At the time he was terminated, Canin claims to have been gravely concerned about the strength of the seismic connections in the structure where some large panels of stained glass were being installed,” Foster said. “Giuseppe had mentioned to Canin his suspicion that the structural frame might have been underdesigned. That someone, in other words, had made a mistake.”
Abruptly, Annie remembered Giuseppe’s request to come to her office and examine the original blueprints. He hadn’t told her why, and he’d been killed before he could do so.
“According to Canin, neither Ms. Fuentes nor anyone else was interested in discussing the matter. There were no problems with the building, everyone insisted. Canin didn’t argue. As you say, he’d just been fired. Let one of the stained glass panels crash into the nave of the cathedral during a minor earthquake—that would teach the whole damn firm a lesson.”
Well, that certainly sounded like Sidney, Annie thought. But her skin crawled anyway. The stained glass panels were huge and heavy. If one of them fell into the nave when the cathedral was crowded, there would be serious injuries, perhaps deaths.
Sid had burst into her office one day, she remembered, demanding to talk to her about a problem with the construction. But he’d gone storming off when he heard about Matt’s involvement in the project.
“Canin says that he told Giuseppe he’d tried but failed to remedy the situation,” Foster said. “Giuseppe seemed very concerned. He said he would speak to Ms. Fuentes about it himself.
“A day or two later, he was dead.”
Foster looked at her expectantly as Annie digested what he was suggesting. The implication was clear: Giuseppe had been murdered and the killer—of all people—had been Darcy.
She rose from her chair. “You can’t seriously believe this!”
“This is an investigation, Ms. Jefferson. I don’t believe anything. I simply gather as much information as I can and turn it over to the district attorney.”
“Look, detective, even if there is a problem with the structural framing of the building—which I seriously doubt—and even if Giuseppe was worried enough to talk to Darcy about it, that’s not a motive for murder. Mistakes are made sometimes in construction work. Either the part is wrongly specified, or something about the design changes during the course of the building, or the original element specified is no longer available, or something comes on the market that would do a better job. Change orders get filed and adjustments get made, detective. Sometimes work has to be ripped out and redone. It’s expensive and it slows down the project, but neither Brody Associates nor McEnerney Construction would cut corners that could result in an unsafe job. If a mistake is made, you fix it. You don’t murder the person who brings it to your attention!”
“Not even if the project is a major one with an already inflated budget, every sort of publicity, and a strict deadline for completion?”
“Of course not! The idea is ridiculous! We’re talking about someone’s life.”
“Believe me, lady, people are murdered every day in this city for reasons a helluva lot sillier than that.”
“Well, I’m not convinced that Giuseppe was killed for such a reason. Especially since the cathedral is not underdesigned! “
“You may be right,” Foster said mildly. “But I’ve got an instinct about this one. And when a homicide cop has an instinct, there’s usually something behind it—even if chasing after that instinct takes him down a few wrong roads.”
“Those so-called instincts can be devastating when you accuse innocent people of murder!”
The detective’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re referring to the Carlyle case, he was guilty all right. He’s a rich son of a bitch who beat the system. If I have anything to say about it, that ain’t gonna happen again. I’m looking at this architectural angle today, but that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about Carlyle’s fingerprints being all over the sabotaged scaffolding.”
“And I’ve explained to you how they came to be there, Detective Foster. No doubt you’ve confirmed what I told you with some of the numerous other witnesses who were there at the time!”
“We’ve also heard a rumor that Giuseppe Brindesi was Francesca Carlyle’s lover,” he said. “That puts
your boyfriend right back in hot water again, Ms. Jefferson, doesn’t it?”
She stared at him, feeling sick. Was it true? Had they confirmed that?
“But, as I said, that’s not the angle I’m working today,” he went on. “There’s not going to be any rush to judgment in this case—not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Well, if you believe that either Matt or Darcy Fuentes had anything to do with it, you’re on the wrong road this time, detective.”
“Or the kid, either—Vico. You think he’s innocent as well, don’t you? Seems to me, Ms. Jefferson, you’ve got a habit of declaring everybody innocent, no matter how much evidence we have against them.”
“Everybodyisinnocent, detective. Everybody except one person. So do me a favor, please. Do the people of California a favor. Get the right guy this time.”
“We’ll get him. Or her. Sooner or later I’ll get to my destination, no matter how many wrong roads I take along the way.”
After he left, Annie found herself pacing the apartment, her thoughts awhirl. Much as she hated hearing what Foster had said, she knew she would have to check into it. Because it certainly seemed that something was wrong here—it didn’t take a cop’s instincts to know that.
Annie was well aware that the San Francisco building codes were among the strictest in the nation, largely because of the risk of major earthquakes. It was pretty difficult to imagine anyone making a mistake about the seismic design. However, if a mistake was made, it would be caught long before the plans were approved. Before any construction could begin, the structural design had to be certified by the city inspectors.
On the other hand, she’d been in this business long enough to know that everything wasn’t always done aboveboard. There were contractors who took a hefty profit out of every project. All contractors figured to make at least 15 percent profit and adjusted their estimates and their costs accordingly. That was the industry standard, and perfectly legal, of course.
But there were ways of increasing that profit margin, and it was something that both the primary contractors and the subcontractors might indulge in, depending on how unscrupulous they were. She wondered again about Paul McEnerney. She suspected that he wouldn’t be above pocketing a few extra dollars if he had the chance.
There were many ways to cheat. And if the architects—or just one person at the architectural firm—were in cahoots with one of the contractors, cutting some sort of deal and splitting what they skimmed…
Mistakes? No way. But carefully planned and executed fraud? That was certainly possible.
But Darcy? The idea that she could be involved in something of that nature and then killed somebody to cover it up was ridiculous!
Even so, Annie couldn’t get out of her mind the thought that Darcy had been behaving very oddly lately. She’d been jumpy and distracted, and people were beginning to notice. Annie had spoken with a client yesterday who had called to complain that Darcy hadn’t returned his phone calls.
Clearly, there was something wrong with her. And whatever it was, Darcy didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with her best friend in the world…
Christ, her head was aching! Ever since Giuseppe’s death she had been tossed by one violent emotion after another, most of them engendered by her newly raised doubts about the people she cared most about.
She certainly didn’t want to give serious consideration to any theory that would pin the murder on Matthew. But neither did she want to consider that Darcy could be capable of such a heinous crime.
But how well did she really know Matt? For that matter, how well did she know Darcy? If someone was a skillful actor and dissembler, was there any way to see into his or her heart?
Annie had always liked to believe that she had good instincts about people. But she couldn’t be as good a judge of character as she had thought, because someone who was probably known to her had, with malice aforethought, loosened the pins on the scaffolding in front of the high altar, knowing that the next person who mounted it would fall eighty feet to his death on the stone floor below.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“If I understand correctly,” said Sam, “it’s Detective Foster’s contention that Giuseppe had made some discovery about a catastrophic engineering error, confronted Darcy—the primary architect—and she killed him.”
“Yes.” Annie had gone straight to Sam’s office the following morning to tell him about her talk with the detective. Sam had admitted that Foster had talked to him too.
“Well, I’m telling you what I told the detective,” said Sam. “It’s the most ludicrous thing I’veever heard.”
“I agree with you. But if this idiot is serious, he could make all sorts of trouble for Darcy. He’s already made Matt Carlyle’s life miserable again.”
Sam pressed his lips together and nodded. “They’ve been questioning me about Matt too. But setting that aside for a moment, think about it—if Darcy made some sort of error, then Sidney must have known about it, right? And if he allowed the building to go on without correcting it, then he too would be responsible. Ultimately, in fact, the entire firm would be responsible. Hell, I’m the one who signed and stamped the official blueprints. I’m the one who would be sued.”
“And when you went over it, did you notice any errors?”
“No, but I admit I gave the final version a fairly cursory look.”
“Sam, you don’t believe there’s any truth to what Foster said about Darcy’s being no good with the fine details, do you?”
Sam shrugged. “‘No good’ is a blatant exaggeration. I don’t think she likes the fine details, but she’s a professional. I’ve certainly never seen any evidence that she cuts corners in any respect. You can’t do that in this business, Annie, you know that. It’s like the old proverb, Tor want of a nail, the horseshoe was lost…’For want of the proper flexibility of a seismic connection, the building fails its safety inspection. Or, worst case, collapses in an earthquake. There’s simply too much money involved in these projects for anyone to risk their reputation on slipshod work.”
“Just for the sake of argument,” Annie said, “suppose a critical mistake was made in the design process, and no one caught it. Suppose the work went forward, all the structural work had been finished, and one of the experienced craftsmen at the site noticed that something didn’t look right. Maybe he’s wrong about it, actually. But he’s stubborn and he clings to his theory, and he won’t hesitate to tell others about it. Maybe he’ll even go to the press. In other words, he could cause a lot of trouble.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think I buy it. There are safety inspections to be passed—”
“You and I both know that some of the inspectors are, frankly, incompetent, and others can probably be bribed.”
“Well—”
“And we’ve both been in the business too long to be naive. There is corruption. Money does pass quietly under the table sometimes. Brody Associates and McEneraey Construction have worked together lots of times before; everything is very cozy, and with a project of this size, with so many millions of dollars involved, there might be a pretty big temptation for somebody to skim off a little money—”
His normally genial look disappeared. “Come on, Annie, think what you’re saying here! Darcy couldn’t be behind something as complex and dirty as that.” He paused, seeming to reconsider, then shook his head. “I just can’t believe it of her.”
“No. No, of course not.” Annie realized that she was getting nervous because Sam’s tone, for the first time, was a bit uncertain. Hadn’t he said something about Darcy having done an internship with McEnerney Construction a few years ago?
“Annie, look at me.”
She raised her eyes. Sam shook his head gently, his eyes candid and serious. “Listen. I want you to stop worrying about this. As far as I know, there are no errors in the specifications for the structure of the cathedral. But I’ll check into it. We’ll run some tests, and if there h
ave been any errors, they’ll be corrected. We’ll retrofit the entire place if necessary. Whatever it takes.”
“Sam, listen, I—”
“What’s more, as far as I know, Giuseppe Brindesi did not go to Darcy with any claims of that sort. But even if he did, it’s pretty hard for me to imagine that she would lose control—or whatever the cops imagine—and murder him.”
“It’s pretty hard for me to imagine,” he’d said. Not “It’s impossible for me to imagine.“Dammit! She didn’t want Sam to believe it any more than she wanted to believe it herself.
“By the way, have you talked to Darcy about this?” he asked.
“No. Jesus, how could I?”
“Good. Seems to me she’s been a bit vulnerable lately. I would hate to see her hurt by idle and totally unjustified speculation.” He paused. “How well do you two actually know each other, anyway?”
“Very well,” Annie said. “She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”
“Then you probably know that Darcy and I were lovers for a short while recently.”
What?
“No?” he said. “I thought she might have told you.”
“No, she didn’t.” Annie was thoroughly startled. Darcy and Sam? That was the kind of thing close women friends tended to tell each other.
“Jeez, I’m sorry,” Sam said, looking embarrassed. “Hey, it was no big deal—a mistake, really, on both our parts.” He smiled wryly. “I probably made a lot less of an impression on her than she made on me.”
“I doubt that.”
He shrugged. “Actually, in all honesty, I think it may have been more difficult for her than she’s willing to admit. I’m afraid that she may have been a little more involved, emotionally, than she let on.”
That could certainly explain Darcy’s strange moodinesslately, Annie thought. What it didn’t explain was why Darcy had never mentioned the affair.