by Jason Dean
Bishop shrugged. ‘I don’t see how. Assuming it was Buckler she was meeting, and that’s one hell of an assumption I might add, then he’d see the message wasn’t coming from Amy’s number.’
‘With the right equipment there is nothing simpler. I know this for a fact.’
‘Okay, I believe you. About that part, anyway. The rest? I don’t know. I guess anything’s possible, so I can’t totally rule it out. But Amy’s phone was taken along with her valuables, so the only way to verify it would be by checking the messages on Buckler’s cell phone. Which wouldn’t be easy, even if I knew where it was. But let’s see if we get what we want from this trip first.’
‘Very well.’ Kidanu faced front again.
Bishop drove. Minutes passed. Then he said, ‘You sure got a way with kids.’
‘You mean with Patrick? Yes, I like children. I find them easy to talk to.’
‘That’s a good character sign. Lots of people don’t.’
Kidanu smiled. ‘So by my actions, have I passed some kind of test?’
‘I was just interested in watching you interact with Pat, that’s all. So you got kids of your own?’
Kidanu lost the smile. ‘Why? Is that relevant?’
‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. But never mind. It’s not important.’
Bishop carried on driving and let the silence fill the air. He wasn’t bothered by Kidanu’s reticence when it came to talking about himself. Bishop was the same. If the guy didn’t want to talk, he didn’t have to. Nothing wrong with silence. Truth be told, it was Bishop’s favourite sound. He could go for weeks without speaking. And had done.
‘You are not happy about leaving New York,’ Kidanu said finally.
‘You noticed that, huh?’ Bishop said. ‘No, I don’t like the thought of being away from Amy for too long. Makes me itchy.’
‘But if the answers are elsewhere, to stay would make no sense. And you have a permanent guard around her.’
‘Right on both counts. I guess I’m just irrational.’
Kidanu tilted his head. ‘No, not irrational. When family is involved, everything becomes . . . complicated.’
‘Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.’
Kidanu turned to the side window and asked, ‘How long now?’
Bishop checked the dash clock. 14.26. ‘About another half hour.’
In fact they didn’t reach Janine Hernandez’s address until 15.34. According to the street map Bishop had bought in the gas station, her house was located on North 6th Street between Curtin and Emerald. As he drove down the mostly empty thoroughfare, he could see straight away it wasn’t one of the city’s better neighbourhoods. The sidewalks were covered in litter and there were overflowing trash cans everywhere. Always a bad sign. And in between the numerous empty, overgrown plots of land were clapboard houses that had seen better days. Most of the stores they passed were boarded up. Even the bars.
Janine Hernandez’s house was close to the Curtin Street intersection. It was a one-storey A-frame standing on its own, with empty plots on either side. The white paint at the front of the house was old and flaky, and there was a small crack in one of the windows. Bishop kept going past the intersection, then made a U-turn and went back. He pulled in to the kerb about twenty feet before the house and turned off the ignition.
They got out and walked over to the house. Bishop tried the buzzer, but it didn’t work. He knocked instead. Nobody answered. He tried again, with the same result. Kidanu came back from looking in the window and said, ‘I see some furniture inside. People live here.’
‘But not at the moment,’ Bishop said. ‘We’ll wait.’
FIFTY-ONE
Kidanu said, ‘A woman and child are coming this way.’
Bishop opened his eyes and checked the dashboard clock. 16.44. The last time he’d looked it had been 16.11. He must have dozed off. If he’d been dreaming, he couldn’t remember what about. But then, he never could. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure he dreamed at all. Even as far back as childhood. Just what did that say about him? He didn’t know, but it was probably nothing good.
Yawning, he looked through the windshield. About forty feet away, a long-haired woman was walking hand in hand with a cute, dark-haired boy. She was a pretty, wide-hipped Caucasian woman in her thirties. The boy had darker skin and looked about six or seven. He was laughing at something his mother was saying. When they reached the house, the woman rummaged through her shoulder bag and pulled out a set of keys. She unlocked and opened the door and they both went in. The door closed behind them.
‘Let’s give her some time to settle first,’ Bishop said.
Fifteen minutes later, they got out of the car. As they walked towards the front door, Bishop saw Kidanu was about an inch shorter than him, which would make him about six foot. And neither man was given to smiling much. In fact, they probably looked more like debt collectors than anything else. Bishop wasn’t sure this was the image they should be projecting. Not if they were hoping to induce a single working mother to let them into her house.
Bishop took a moment to relax his facial muscles a little and look as non-threatening as possible. When he reached the door, he knocked twice and waited.
After a few moments, the door opened as wide as the security chain would allow. ‘Yes?’
‘Hello, Mrs Hernandez,’ Bishop said. ‘My name’s Bishop. This is Teferi Kidanu, from the Konamban embassy in Washington, DC. We were hoping we might talk to you. I couldn’t find a phone number for you.’
‘Washington? I don’t understand. What’s this about?’
‘It’s in regard to your husband. Do you mind if we come in?’
‘My husband? Cesar?’ She was reaching for the chain when she stopped and pulled her hand back. ‘Wait a minute. I think I’d like to see some identification first.’
‘Very sensible,’ Kidanu said, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. He pulled out his passport and handed it to her.
Janine Hernandez leafed through, then flipped to the back. ‘I’ve never seen a diplomatic passport before. You say you work at the embassy?’
‘As a security officer, yes.’
She handed the passport back to Kidanu and looked at Bishop. ‘And you?’
Bishop smiled and said, ‘I’m just a private citizen, Mrs Hernandez. But I can show you my New York driver’s licence if you want. It’s got a photo.’
She looked at him for a moment, then shrugged and took off the security chain and opened the door. ‘Come on in, then.’
‘Thanks,’ Bishop said.
He and Kidanu entered the house and waited for Mrs Hernandez to close the door behind them. Then they followed her down a short hallway, though a doorway on the right and into a small living room. There was an old, threadbare couch and an equally ancient easy chair at one end. Set against one wall was a small table and two wooden chairs. A cheap, portable TV set stood in one corner of the room. Bishop noticed the carpet was spotlessly clean, as was the furniture. And there was a fresh jasmine smell throughout the house, too. Janine Hernandez was clearly someone who made the best of any given situation. Bishop warmed to her immediately. He liked that kind of attitude in a person.
‘Sit where you like,’ she said.
Bishop took the couch. Kidanu sat in one of the chairs at the table. Janine Hernandez perched on the easy chair with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped. She was wearing old jeans and a faded blue man’s shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
‘So you say this is about Cesar?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand. Do you have news for me, or something?’
Bishop said, ‘No, nothing like that. Sorry if we gave that impression, Mrs Hernandez. We—’
‘I prefer Janine,’ she interrupted.
‘Janine, then. We came to talk specifically about Cesar’s problems with Artemis International.’
Janine’s jaw visibly clenched at the last two words. She looked out the window and took a deep breat
h. Then she turned back and said, ‘When you say Artemis, I assume you mean Roger Klyce.’
‘That’s right.’
She nodded. ‘And your interest in all this is what exactly?’
‘My sister works for them as a researcher,’ Bishop said. ‘Or she did. She’s in hospital on life-support at the moment. On Tuesday evening, three men attacked and nearly killed her in a manner that was meant to look like a mugging. But I know it was planned. And I have reason to believe Roger Klyce might have had something to do with it.’
Janine’s eyes had grown wider. ‘What did they do to her?’
Bishop sighed. ‘Imagine the worst and you wouldn’t be far off. She’s in a coma now, but she’s breathing. But for how long, I don’t know.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘The poor woman. Have the police found the three men?’
‘No. And they’re not likely to.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘Yeah, I guess I am.’
She looked ready to ask something else when the living room door opened. Janine’s son wandered into the room and stared with wide eyes at the two newcomers.
Janine said, ‘What is it, Joel?’
‘Who are you?’ Joel asked, staring at the intruders.
Bishop smiled. ‘Hey, Joel. I’m Bishop and that guy at the table is Kidanu. We’re just talking with your mom about a few things. That okay?’
Joel glanced at his mother and said, ‘I guess. When’s dinner, Mom? I’m starving.’
‘Soon, sweetie,’ she said. ‘Now run along and finish yesterday’s homework while I talk to these people, okay?’
Joel’s shoulders slumped. ‘But I want to stay in here with you guys. Why can’t I?’
‘But homework is very important, Joel,’ Kidanu said. ‘What is the subject?’
‘Adding and subtracting,’ the boy said. ‘It’s bo-o-oring. And it’s hard, too.’
‘Well, perhaps I can help you with it.’ Kidanu raised an eyebrow at Janine. ‘If your mother says it is all right.’
‘Bonus,’ Joel said, turning to his mother. ‘Can he, Mom? Can he?’
Janine mulled it over for a few seconds, then finally shrugged and said, ‘Well, if you don’t mind, it’s fine by me. But keep the doors open between us.’
‘Of course.’ Kidanu smiled as he rose from the chair.
‘Come on,’ Joel said, and grabbed Kidanu’s hand and dragged him out of the room.
Once they’d gone, Janine tilted her head at Bishop. ‘Well, that was weird. He usually clams right up around strangers. Your friend got kids of his own?’
‘I don’t know. He doesn’t discuss his personal life much.’
‘What about you?’
‘Me? No. Although Joel there does remind me a little of Amy’s boy, Patrick.’
‘Amy? Is that your sister?’
‘That’s right. Amy Philmore. I was going to ask if you had—’
‘I know that name,’ Janine said, her eyes getting wide. ‘Amanda Philmore, right? She sent me a letter – when was it? – last weekend, asking if it would be okay to drop by and talk to me about Cesar sometime. I was going to send a reply, but I just hadn’t gotten round to it.’
‘A letter? She didn’t send you an email? Or call you?’
‘It would have been a bit hard. I don’t have a landline installed here and my cell phone’s just a basic pay-as-you-go. And the last computer I ever used was Cesar’s, and that’s long gone. So no emails.’
‘Oh. So do you still have the letter?’
‘Sure. Wait here.’ Janine got up and left the room. A few seconds later she came back with her shoulder bag. She sat down again and rooted around inside for a few moments. ‘Here we are,’ she said, and handed Bishop a folded envelope.
Bishop removed the letter and opened it. He immediately identified the handwriting as Amy’s. It had last Thursday’s date at the top.
Dear Mrs Hernandez, My name is Amanda Philmore and I work as a researcher for Artemis International in New York. I’m sure you recognize the name. I have only recently found out that your husband, Cesar, also worked here, and that he may have discovered certain things about the company that resulted in his being fired. I was wondering if I might come and see you on a day that’s convenient for you so we might discuss this in more detail. Please send me a reply as soon as you can. Kind regards, Amanda Philmore.
Bishop looked up at Janine. ‘And you were planning to meet her?’
‘Sure,’ Janine said. ‘It’s just finding the time, you know? My boss at the diner cuts me some slack ’cause she knows I have to take Joel to and from school on weekdays, but I have to make up the time in the evenings.’ She pointedly looked at her watch. ‘Speaking of which, I’ll have to go in a couple of hours.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be long gone before then. But going back to your husband, did Cesar discuss with you what he’d found out about Artemis?’
Janine shook her head. ‘All he told me was he’d discovered the real reason for Artemis’s existence, but he absolutely refused to give me any details beyond that. He said he didn’t want to involve me or Joel in any way. But I knew whatever it was, it was eating him up. We were living in a small house in Queens and he’d just stay in his office in the garage and brood. And then one day he came home with the news that he’d been fired for sexual harassment against one of the female employees. Which if you knew Cesar at all, you’d know was bullshit. He said they must have found out about his research and wanted to totally discredit him so nobody else would take him seriously.’
‘I take it he wasn’t about to let it rest there.’
Janine snorted. ‘Not Cesar. He spoke to one of his friends, who recommended this FBI agent he’d once met. Said he ought to talk to him, that he’d at least know what Cesar should do next.’
‘Was the agent’s name Arquette?’
‘Right. I never met him, but I remember the name. Cesar came back from that first meeting with him sounding real pleased with himself. Like he’d finally found somebody who might actually be able to do something, you know? And despite his being out of work, the following week wasn’t too bad. His spirits were up.’ Janine’s face fell. ‘Then one evening Cesar left the house without telling me where he was going. And that was it. I never saw him again. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was out a husband, and Joel a dad.’
‘He gave no clue as to where he was going?’
‘Not a thing,’ Janine said. ‘I reported him missing, of course, but all I got from the police was the usual runaround. They made it clear they thought he’d run off with somebody, and I got truly sick of trying to convince them otherwise. Let me tell you, a woman knows if her man’s seeing somebody else, and Cesar wasn’t. No way. And besides, he was absolutely devoted to Joel. He couldn’t bear being away from him for more than a day.’
Bishop thought about what Arquette had told him in the limo, and said, ‘You’re right. I don’t think Cesar was seeing anybody.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I had a conversation with Arquette a few days ago. He told me Cesar believed Artemis were involved in illegal arms trafficking, and that he’d offered to break into their offices to try to get some evidence against them. Arquette said he wasn’t happy about sanctioning a criminal act, but he wasn’t about to stop him if that’s what he wanted to do. But he thinks Klyce’s people may have caught Cesar in the act and dealt with him themselves.’
Janine’s jaw dropped. Bishop could tell this was news to her. She blinked and said, ‘You mean murdered him.’
‘Yes.’
She slowly sank back into the chair and pressed a palm against her eyes. ‘I guess I always knew deep down something like that must have happened. I just didn’t want to believe it. But it’s been a year now with no word, and that can really only mean one thing, can’t it?’ Janine looked at Bishop with moist eyes. ‘I really miss him. I have dreams where he just shows up on the front doorstep. He’s full of apologies and then he e
xplains he got lost coming home. I’m down for days afterwards. Goddamn it.’ She turned and stared out the window.
Bishop said nothing to break the silence. What could he say? So he just waited.
After a while, Janine turned back to him and wiped her eyes with her hands. ‘So that’s what this was all about? Klyce was involved in arms trafficking?’
‘He still is, but I think it’s more than that. I just don’t know what yet. We were hoping you might be able to help us figure it out.’
She sniffed. ‘I would if I could. But I don’t know what else I can tell you.’
‘What about Arquette? Did he get in touch with you after Cesar disappeared?’
‘Yes, he called a few times to check if I’d heard from him at all. When it became clear he’d really gone missing, Arquette said he’d do what he could. I didn’t hear from him again, though, so I just assumed he hadn’t found anything. Then what was left of my savings ran out and we had to move somewhere cheaper. And then he couldn’t have called me even if he wanted to.’
‘What about Cesar’s belongings, like his computer? Didn’t you bring them along?’
Janine shook her head. ‘That would have been a little difficult, because not long after Cesar disappeared our place got burgled. His laptop was just one of the many victims.’ She gave a sad smile and said, ‘It never rains but it pours, right?’
FIFTY-TWO
To Bishop that sure sounded like Klyce tying up loose ends. Too coincidental otherwise. And Bishop didn’t trust coincidence. Never had. ‘What about notebooks or diaries?’ he asked. ‘Did Cesar ever have anything like that lying around?’
‘You didn’t know Cesar,’ Janine said. ‘He preferred keyboards to pens. A real technophile. If he ever needed to jot something down, he might use whatever what was at hand and then transfer it to his laptop or electronic organizer later. Like the back of an envelope or, if I was with him, my old pocket diary. But that was as far as it went.’
That got Bishop’s attention. ‘Did he often use your diary to make notes?’