Bianca leans in and gives Julia a light hug, leaving a strong remnant of her perfume behind.
“I couldn’t make the service, with the lunch hour and everything. I’m so sorry about David,” Bianca says. “I also wanted to apologize for the way I acted in the restaurant. That wasn’t my finest moment.”
“Don’t worry about it. If you haven’t eaten anything, there’s a lot of food inside. Navarro, can you show her?” Julia asks, using her friend to get rid of the unwanted company.
Navarro raises an eyebrow at Julia, game to her maneuver.
“Yeah, sure,” he answers.
Navarro leads Bianca back inside, and Bianca laces her arm through Navarro’s as she tries to climb up the six steps to the deck in her ridiculously high shoes.
Julia drops down on the tire swing underneath the maple tree and kicks at the ground with the toe of her black boot. She faces the woods in the rear of her property and fantasizes what it would be like to just take off and run as fast as she can, far off through the trees. She’d never be able to escape her problems, she realizes, but at least she would be alone.
“Hey, Julia,” a female voice calls from behind.
So much for being alone, Julia figures, and spins the tire swing around. Tandy Sanchez, the Detroit News reporter, stands above Julia, her usual gravity-defying perky cleavage covered up this time in a conservative black wool dress.
“Really?” Julia asks. “Please don’t tell me you’ve come to try to interview me.”
Tandy stands firm, prepared to take the expected barbs. She tucks a strand of her platinum blond hair behind her ear and offers Julia a sympathetic smile.
“I’m not here to write a story. This obviously wasn’t a good idea.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t. Why did you come here? Are you going to try to corner Logan again for a quote?”
Tandy casts her eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, Julia. I was just doing my job. You know how it is.”
“I don’t. I’ve never stooped that low before,” Julia answers.
“Well, then, you’re a better person than me if that’s what you want me to say. Look, I knew I wouldn’t be welcome here, but I wanted to tell you personally that I’m so sorry about David, and I feel terrible for you and your children. I apologize for approaching your son in the hospital. As a journalist, it seems sometimes when we’re trying to do our job well, we wind up not being very nice people.”
Tandy begins to walk away and retreat toward the house when Julia calls her back.
“The story that you wrote, the one from the first day of the trial.”
“About the Butcher, the prosecution’s last-minute witness?” Tandy answers, and turns around.
“Right, and the profile you wrote on David. Who was your source?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“You owe me for the hospital incident. Was it my husband?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not the terrible person you think I am, and I’d like to help you, but I can’t burn a source.”
“Then how about this. If Charboneau, from Rossi’s defense team, told you about the witness, walk back into the house and don’t say another word. You won’t technically be telling me anything,” Julia says.
Tandy chews on her thumbnail, considering the request, and then holds Julia’s gaze, ready to play the game.
“You’re still here, I see,” Julia says, and continues. “If David was your leak on the Butcher, go back into the house and leave the screen door open.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“That’s fine. But you’re not burning a source if you rule out my husband as your leak. We both know how this works.”
“All right. It wasn’t David. I tried to get it out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. It was someone else. I won’t give you a name, but the person is in your house.”
* * *
Julia looks out the window of Navarro’s car and watches the abandoned shells of buildings slip by as she, Navarro, and Russell approach the city’s core and Infinity Holdings.
“Are you all right back there?” Navarro asks Julia.
“I’m fine,” she answers.
“That was quite a surprise seeing Bianca show up like that,” Russell goads. “Are you two back together?”
Navarro keeps his eyes on Julia in the backseat for a beat and then returns them to the buckled road, left in infinite ill-repair until the city of Detroit can find a way to pay to fix it, a priority buried way down deep on the already daunting list of its more dire needs.
“No way,” Navarro responds. “She was nice and conciliatory as hell until she asked me to come to her house, and I told her that was never going to happen. Then she got ugly. I had to escort Bianca to her car before she caused a scene.”
“I guess you just never know some people, just like David, right, Julia?” Russell says. “There are usually clues about someone’s real intentions, you know that, and you’ve always been really good at figuring out the true story behind the lies people tell. You and David were married for what, ten years? Did David give you any indicators that he was the type of guy who would take a bribe, possibly throw a case, and screw around on his wife?”
Russell’s dead-on summary of her husband makes Julia visibly cringe.
“Russell, shut it,” Navarro orders.
“No, it’s okay. Maybe it’s never really possible to ever truly know another person,” Julia says.
“Everyone has a face they want to hide,” Navarro tells Julia. “For you and me, we hide what happened to us when we were kids. For others, they hide their duplicitous acts.”
“That’s some heavy philosophy there, Ray,” Russell comments, and turns around in his seat toward Julia. “You and David got married pretty quick after you got together. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought.”
“I was pregnant with Logan.”
Navarro gives Julia a hard stare from the rearview mirror as if something has finally been explained and pulls into an open parking space a street away from Infinity Holdings.
“You think they’ll let us take a look around without a warrant?” Russell asks. “The judge didn’t sign it yet.”
“Go in first, identify yourself as a cop, and see what you can find out. Chances are, they won’t give you much without a warrant, but press the issue that this place probably doesn’t ask for much identification when people set up their accounts, and Infinity Holdings could be abetting a crime as a result. Make whoever you talk to think they could get arrested if they are storing anything illegal in the place.”
“What about you?” Russell asks.
“Julia and I will wait here for you. If you’re successful, then call me and I’ll come in. If you’re not, Julia and I are going to pose as a couple interested in getting a security box, and we’ll dig around and see what we can find.”
“Do me a favor and move up to the front seat. I feel like a taxi driver up here,” Navarro says as Russell disappears around the corner.
Julia takes Russell’s place and, not wanting to talk, slips one of Navarro’s CDs into the car stereo. Stevie Ray Vaughan belts out with passionate, raw soul, “The Sky Is Crying.” They’ve listened to the first half of the blues artist’s posthumous album when Russell appears on the street in front of them and makes his way back to the car.
“They’re slick,” Russell answers as he gets in the backseat. “Polite little bean counters gave me a tour of the place and they were professional enough, but they ‘hold their clients’ confidentiality in the highest regard.’ ”
“You didn’t threaten them with an arrest?” Navarro answers.
“Of course I did. That got their knickers in a big old twist. The head guy, Greg Spanier, comes out from his office, all apologetic, saying he just got back from lunch and the broad helping me out front is new. This Spanier guy looks through his files and says no one by the name of Rossi has ever had an account there. But David Tanner does, and he gives up his sec
urity deposit box as number twenty-two.”
“David told me ‘box twenty-two’ when he was in the hospital, so that has to be where he hid the cash,” Julia says.
“I explained to Spanier that David died because of the injuries he sustained in the bombing, and we have reason to believe he was involved in criminal activities regarding Rossi, which gets Spanier all sweaty and nervous,” Russell continues. “That’s when things go bad. Spanier tells me a woman came into the place just a few hours ago and claimed she was a secretary from the district attorney’s office and was picking up something for her boss in one of the boxes. Turns out she had the wrong safety deposit box number and security code and asks if he can give her the correct information. Spanier tells her to call her boss with the account and heads to his office, thinking she’ll follow, but before he can take two steps, she’s out the door. Then Spanier stops talking to me all of a sudden after he realizes maybe what I’m asking him about and the mystery woman are connected and he realizes he could be in trouble, so he tells me he won’t be able to assist me any further without a warrant or consulting with his attorney.”
“Someone is a step ahead of us,” Julia answers.
“Probably Isabella on behalf of her husband. All right. We’ve got this,” Navarro says. “Give me fifteen minutes. If we don’t come out by then, go back inside Infinity Holdings and demand you have to see Spanier again.”
“About what?” Russell asks.
“Make something up,” Navarro answers.
Navarro and Julia exit the vehicle and turn the corner to the vault and safety deposit box company.
Infinity Holdings, the alternative for people who want to put their valuables in a safe place other than a bank, looks exactly like one, institutional and secure, complete with a fake circular copper vault door on the inside back wall for show.
Navarro, who could pass for a legitimate businessman, still in his suit coat from the funeral instead of his usual leather jacket that makes him look like a hood or a cop, puts his hand on the small of Julia’s back and leads her inside.
A mousy, tense-looking woman in a conservative navy blue dress and a name tag that reads JUNE pinned to her lapel gives the couple an anxious smile as they enter.
“Good afternoon. Are you here to deposit something?” June asks.
“No, my fiancée and I are getting married next month, and we’re looking for a place to keep our valuables. With the economy the way it’s been, there have been a couple of break-ins in my neighborhood, and I want to be sure our belongings are safe.”
“Of course,” June answers. She pulls out a glossy brochure of the place and hands it to them across the counter. “Let me just call my boss.”
Julia and Navarro pretend to pore over the brochure with interest as the manager, Greg Spanier, emerges from a back office. He strides over to Julia and Navarro and pumps Navarro’s hand up and down in a firm grip.
Navarro gives him the same spiel as the receptionist, and Spanier’s eyes shine with fake enthusiasm. “So when’s the big day?” he asks.
Navarro looks blank for a minute, and Julia speaks up. “We’re getting married next month.”
“You’re a lucky man,” Spanier tells Navarro. “And smart. We’ve had a spike in the amount of vaults and security deposit boxes we’ve rented out due to the rampant crime epidemic here in Detroit. And as a business owner, let me just say the police have done little to stop it.”
Navarro presses his hand against Julia’s waist over the irony of the comment, and Julia forces herself to suppress a smile.
“You don’t have to worry about your valuables here. We have twenty-four-hour surveillance and twenty-four-hour accessibility. All we need is your thumbprint. Now, how about a tour?” Spanier asks.
“I was ready to go home, Mr. Spanier. It’s almost five,” the receptionist says.
“It’s only four forty-five,” Spanier says, and taps his index finger against his Rolex. “We’ll be through the tour in just a few minutes.”
Spanier walks past the fake vault door and brings Navarro and Julia to a back room.
“Sorry, June is a new hire. Although she works bankers’ hours, as I said, all our clients have round-the-clock access to the facility.”
Spanier presses his thumb into a keypad mounted on the wall, and an exterior door opens. Inside the climate-controlled cool room is the real vault door, a mammoth circle with gold-colored bars running vertically through it. Spanier opens the heavy door with a key and takes Navarro and Julia inside the space that is filled from floor to ceiling with rectangular silver security deposit boxes on one side and larger vaults on the other.
Spanier knocks off the list of all the features of Infinity Holdings, until June’s voice interrupts them from the other side of the vault door.
“Mr. Spanier, that police officer is back,” she says.
Spanier is the one who looks nervous this time, the makings of a bead of sweat appearing on his brow.
“I’m very sorry,” Spanier says. “Tell you what. Why don’t you take a look around for a minute, and when you’re done, just press that red button on the wall and June will let you out.”
“That will be perfect,” Navarro says.
“If you’re interested in a larger space, our six-foot vaults are right around the corner,” Spanier says as he leaves.
Julia and Navarro wait to hear the exterior door close, and then they hurry down the narrow corridor of polished metal boxes infused into the walls.
“Russell said David’s security deposit box is number twenty-two,” Navarro says.
The numbers start at the rear of the vault, so David’s space is tucked far back from the entrance. Navarro gets down on his knees and inspects the rectangular box that has the number twenty-two etched across it.
“We need a key or a code, and we have neither,” Navarro says.
“When David was in the hospital, he told me the numbers three, two, one, thirty, and then the word infinity. We’ve obviously hit on the ‘infinity’ part of what he was trying to tell me. Maybe the numbers are the code.”
Navarro’s finger quickly taps the numbers in sequence, and the door of the box pops open.
“Bingo,” Navarro says. He reaches inside and pulls out a worn leather briefcase. “Let’s hope there’s no code or key involved this time.”
Navarro snaps the briefcase easily open and lifts the lid. Inside, the briefcase is piled with thick stacks of carefully bundled hundred-dollar bills.
Navarro quickly runs his hand down the side of one stack to count the money.
“There’s got to be over a million dollars in here. David was dirty,” Navarro says.
“I realize that, but why did he want me to find the money?” Julia asks.
“He knew Rossi would come after you and your kids if he couldn’t find the cash.”
The sound of shoes clicking a fast path across the fake marble floor in their direction puts Navarro and Julia on instant alert. Navarro swiftly puts everything back into the briefcase. He snaps the briefcase’s locks back in place and thrusts it into the security deposit box.
“Sorry about the delay,” Spanier says, letting himself back into the vault with a key. “Now, how was the tour?”
“I think we found everything we hoped for and more,” Navarro answers.
* * *
Navarro drops Russell back off at the station to secure the warrant for Infinity Holdings and then pulls in front of Julia’s house. A few red-and-orange Chinese lanterns that Helen placed for the reception still hang on the porch to welcome those who came just a few hours prior to pay their respects to David.
The police officer parked in front of Julia’s house flashes his beams at Navarro’s car.
“I’ll be right back,” Navarro says. “Stay here and I’ll walk you inside when I’m done.”
Navarro huddles over the security detail’s open front door window for a few minutes and then heads back in Julia’s direction, the streetlight casting a dim
yellow spotlight as he approaches.
“My guy says there’s been no suspicious activity going on all day, even with all the people coming and going during the reception. I wish you’d take the gun I offered you, though. It would make me feel better.”
“Thanks, but not with kids in the house,” Julia says. “Even with a safe, they scare me. Do you want to come in for a few minutes? You can have a beer since I drank most of yours this afternoon.”
“Sure, if you want me to,” Navarro answers.
Navarro and Julia head inside the house and find Helen packing up the last of the reception food into clear Tupperware containers.
“You’re late,” Helen says. “The boys were exhausted, and they fell asleep about forty minutes ago.”
“I wanted to say good night to them. How are they doing?”
“A day like this? As well as could be expected. Logan wanted to stay up until you got home, but I made him go to bed. He and Will are asleep in your room again. Go give them a kiss,” Helen tells Julia, and then turns to Navarro. “And you, you are staying?”
Navarro searches Julia for an answer.
“Yes, I asked my friend to visit with me for a bit,” Julia says.
Helen puts her hands on her hips and shoves the remaining Tupperware containers into the already-packed refrigerator, obviously not happy with Julia’s response.
“Feel free to get yourself a beer. I’ll be right back,” Julia tells Navarro.
Julia walks quietly to her bedroom and gives each of her boys a soft kiss. She pulls off her black skirt and top, tired of looking like she is in mourning for a man who she realizes she never really knew. She changes into a light blue tank top and jeans and turns down the thermostat in the nearly unbearably warm house, caused by Helen’s usual nightly routine of turning the heat up to nearly eighty to ensure Julia’s room in the back of the house is warm when the boys go to sleep.
Julia returns to the kitchen, which is now empty. Julia decides Navarro changed his mind and went home. She reaches into the refrigerator to search for a beer. The back screen door opens, and Julia’s hands scramble across the counter for her cell phone to call the officer out front.
Duplicity Page 24