Brutality (50 page)

“But you’re not going to?”

“No. I think she’s just going to lay a guilt trip on her,” Fina said. She pushed the lime wedge in her drink down to the bottom with her straw. “Do you think it’s wrong of me not to tell Risa?”

Frank shrugged. “No. I think you’re trying to protect your friend.”

Fina nodded. “For all I know, Greta isn’t really in the hospital. I wouldn’t put it past her—cooking up some story to gain sympathy.”

“You’re very cynical,” Frank said.

“Kind of comes with the job, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. Regardless, I think you’re making the right decision.”

“Glad to hear it,” Fina said. “That makes me feel better.”

Frank proceeded to tell her about an ambitious woodworking project he was planning, and soon after, the waiter came by with dessert menus.

“What do you think?” Frank asked, eyeing Fina over the menu.

“You know how I feel about dessert,” she said.

“Haven’t met one you didn’t like?”

“You got it, except for sorbet and fruit.” She pointed at that entry on the menu. “What’s that all about?”

“That’s Peg’s version of dessert.”

Fina perused the options. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Frank smiled. “I think sharing a slice of Boston cream pie would be very reasonable, don’t you think?”

“It’s so light and airy,” Fina said. “It doesn’t even count.”

Frank winked at her. “I couldn’t agree more.”

—

F
ina dropped Frank back home and was on the Pike when her phone lit up with Pamela’s number.

“Hello,” Fina said, speeding through the E-Z Pass booth.

“It’s Pamela. I have some information about Zack Lawrence.”

“Great. What is it?”

“Well, he never graduated from NEU, but he was a student for three semesters.”

“So he dropped out?”

“It looks like it was a mutually agreed-upon decision. His grades were abominable.”

“What else?”

“I’ve had other things to do, Fina. I’m not your assistant.”

“I know, Pamela, and I appreciate your help. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

Pamela sighed. “He hadn’t yet declared a major, and he had a job on campus for one semester.”

“What kind of job?” Fina asked. She heard papers being shuffled on the other end of the line.

“He worked in janitorial services for the science department,” Pamela said.

“Like in a lab?” Fina asked, her attention sharpening.

“It looks like it, but I’m not sure. Remember, this was about five years ago.”

“Does it say who his boss was?”

“No. He worked through the student employment department. Kids go there to find a job and get assigned to various places around campus.”

“Anything else that might be helpful?” Fina asked.

“I don’t think so.” There was muffled conversation on the other end. “I need to go. I hope this is what you were looking for,” Pamela added before hanging up.

Fina took the next exit and pulled over at the bottom of the ramp. She scrolled through the contact list on her phone and dialed the number for Dana Tompkins, the postdoc in the Schaefer Lab.

“Dana, it’s Fina Ludlow, the private investigator,” Fina said when Dana answered.

“Hi, Fina. How are you?”

“I’m good, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I need some information, and I need it fast.”

“Okay. What do you need?”

“Can you tell me if a guy named Zack Lawrence ever worked in the lab? It would have been about five years ago, and it would have been a janitorial-type job.”

“Let me look,” Dana said. Fina could hear keys tapping in the background. “Sorry. The system is really slow.”

“No problem. I appreciate the favor.”

“Okay. Let’s see. There was a guy named Zack Lawrence here, but only for one semester.”

Fina banged her fist on the steering wheel in excitement. “Does it say what kind of job he did?”

“No, just after-hours janitorial stuff. Nothing technical.”

“That’s fantastic. I wonder—” But before Fina could finish her sentence there was a loud bang at the other end of the phone and raised voices. “Dana? Are you okay?”

An argument ensued in the background, and Fina heard her name in the mix.

A man’s voice came on the line. “You are a menace!”

“Dr. Mehra! How nice to hear your voice!”

“Are you trying to get her fired?” Vikram yelled. “She is violating school policy assisting you!”

“If you even think about firing her,” Fina said, “I’ll make sure she has the best legal representation, and I will make your life hell.”

“Why are you asking about this Zack Lawrence?”

“Why don’t you tell me? It’s about the bomb that was placed on my car.”

“I know nothing about this!” Vikram exclaimed.

“The alleged bomber once worked for you!”

A man pulled up in the lane next to Fina, and they made brief eye contact. He was cute and gave her a look that was more like an invitation. Really? Did people really make dates at the bottom of Mass Pike exit ramps?

“So? The student workers change constantly. Many people have worked for me,” Vikram said. “I don’t remember them.”

“I’m not surprised, given your stellar interpersonal skills,” Fina said, “but Zack’s kind of hard to forget. He’s black and about six feet five inches tall.”

“Him? You think I hired him to set a bomb?”

“So
now
you remember who he is?”

“I remember because he was a useless employee,” Vikram said. “He was very clumsy and broke everything. And he stopped working here after one semester.”

“You fired him?”

“No! He stopped showing up. I would have fired him, but I didn’t get the chance. Do not call here again!”

“Do not fire Dana!” Fina said. “Not unless you want me to put you on speed dial.”

Vikram hung up the phone, and Fina just sat there, wondering what the hell had just happened. Was Vikram angry because Zack was a lousy janitor or a lousy bomber?

—

F
ina tried to reach Cristian, but had to leave a voice mail saying she would stop by. She would have loved to put all the pieces together on her own—present Cristian and Pitney with a solved case, wrapped up in a bow—but that wasn’t realistic. The cops were better equipped to chase down some leads, particularly those that might call for search warrants.

Kelly’s tail had left a message summarizing her day, which sounded like a page from the diary of most suburban moms. It was routine and boring, but certainly gave Fina an appreciation for the demands of being a stay-at-home mother, which didn’t entail much staying at home, if Kelly’s day was any indication.

—

A
t police headquarters, the desk sergeant told her that Cristian was unavailable, but that Pitney would speak with her instead.

“I can come back when Detective Menendez is available,” Fina said, retreating.

“I suggest you have a seat, young lady,” the cop said, peering at her.

“Fine,” Fina said, parking herself on the torturous wooden bench.

A uniformed cop appeared a few minutes later and led her upstairs. Fina expected to be shown to an interview room, but instead was granted access to an observation room. Lieutenant Pitney was there, looking through the one-way mirror at Cristian and Zack Lawrence in the interview room next door.

“Lieutenant,” Fina said. The uniformed cop pulled the door closed, and they were alone in the dimly lit room.

“Fina.” Pitney was wearing a cherry-red sweater and what looked like houndstooth-patterned pants. The large black-and-white print made her lower half look pixelated.

“Have you gotten anything from him yet?” Fina asked.

“Not yet. He hasn’t asked for a lawyer, but he hasn’t said much, either.”

Fina took a step closer to the glass. “It looks like him, don’t you think?”

“Seeing a resemblance isn’t going to be enough for the DA.”

“Well, of course not,” Fina said, feeling her defenses rise, “but it’s something.”

“I assume there’s a reason you’re here?” Pitney asked.

Fina rested her hands on the frame of the mirror and looked at the two men on the other side. Cristian wasn’t exactly small, but compared with Zack, he looked downright petite.

“Did you know that Zack worked in Vikram Mehra’s lab, otherwise known as Liz Barone’s lab?” she asked.

Pitney looked at Fina, her expression impassive.

“That lab has the chemicals that were used in the bomb, and he and Vikram had contact. You see where I’m going with this.”

“I do.” Pitney leaned forward and tapped on the window. Cristian and Zack both looked up. Cristian rose from his chair and left the room. A moment later, he stepped into the observation room.

“Hey,” he said to Fina.

“Hey.”

“Fina has some info for us,” Pitney said. “Tell him what you just told me.”

She filled Cristian in on Zack’s link to the lab, and he jotted something down in his small notebook.

“Great. I’ll see what I can do,” Cristian said.

“When did you find this out?” Pitney asked Fina.

“Less than an hour ago!” Fina exclaimed. “Wow! You always assume the worst about me.”

Cristian dipped his chin down in an effort to hide his grin.

“It’s not funny,” Fina said to him. “It’s annoying.”

“Well, I’m sorry if my question offended you,” Pitney said, brushing a lock of curly hair away from her face.

“No, you’re not,” Fina said. “Why do I even bother?”

“Because it’s against the law to withhold information,” Pitney responded, at a slightly higher volume than the small space required. She gestured toward the mirror. “Go back in there, Menendez.”

“Talk to you later,” he said to Fina, and left, reappearing a moment later in the interview room.

“Can I stay and watch?” Fina asked Pitney.

“No, you cannot.”

Fina walked to the door and was turning the knob when Pitney spoke. “So you and Cristian are back together?”

Fina turned to look at her. “Huh? That question has to be some kind of workplace violation.”

“I’m asking as his friend, not as his boss.”

Fina looked at Cristian in the next room. “We’ve never been together in the traditional sense, so we certainly can’t be back together.”

“But he’s not with Cindy anymore,” Pitney said. She tapped her tomato-colored nails on top of the room’s lone file cabinet.

“Correct,” Fina said. “This relates to you how?”

“He’s a great guy.”

“I know. That’s why I spend time with him.”

“I know everything is a big free-for-all with you, Fina,” Pitney said, “but that’s not always a great approach.”

“Hmmm. I really don’t want your advice about . . . anything. And I can’t imagine that Cristian would be happy knowing that you’re poking around his personal life.”

“I’m just looking out for him.”

“He’s a grown man with a gun, Lieutenant,” Fina said. “He can take care of himself.”

She pulled the door closed behind her and threaded her way through the squad room and back downstairs.

Fina had gone into the station with a slight inclination that she should share her Gus and Kelly sighting with Pitney.

She was leaving with no such impulse.

—

F
ina went home and ran every possible search she could on Vikram and Zack. She didn’t really think she’d uncover something the cops wouldn’t, but she needed to occupy her brain somehow. She found an old photo of Zack from high school and an announcement in the local paper that he’d been accepted into the NEU Local Scholars program, whatever that was. She left a message for Pamela asking for information about it.

Milloy arrived bearing take-out Vietnamese food, and they settled on the couch to watch a basketball game. Fina kept checking her phone and adjusting her position on the couch.

“What’s up with you?” Milloy asked. “You keep squirming.”

“Sorry. I’m just antsy about this case. I’m this close,” she said, pinching two fingers close together.

“Which is usually when you start climbing the walls,” he noted. Milloy had been around long enough to recognize the life cycle of a case.

They kept watching the game.

“Do you want to stay over?” Fina asked five minutes later. She welcomed a distraction, and there were few things more distracting than Milloy.

“Wish I could, but I’m not feeling great, and I’ve got an early morning.”

“Are you seriously telling me ‘Not tonight, dear, I have a headache’?” she asked.

Milloy grinned. “Kind of, but don’t take it personally. I’m sure I’ll feel better in no time.”

He left right after the final buzzer, and Fina popped an over-the-counter sleeping pill and climbed into bed.

The tiny tablet was a poor substitute for Milloy’s broad chest, but it would have to do.

33.

Fina awoke feeling slightly groggy, so she threw on some workout clothes and took the elevator down to the fourth floor. She ran a few miles on the treadmill and lifted some free weights in an effort to clear the cobwebs from her head.

Upstairs in the condo, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and showered. After dressing, she poured herself a glass of milk, rather proud that she was starting the day with a workout and a full serving of calcium.

Kelly’s tail had sent Fina an e-mail detailing her whereabouts the day before. The list included the elementary school, a local pizza place, and a stop by Jamie and Liz’s house. Fina changed gears and turned her attention to Pamela, who had yet to reply to Fina’s message. Fina called her office and left another message with Jill. She knew that she didn’t have any right to be irritated—Pamela had a job and didn’t owe her anything—but she still felt irked by the lack of update.

That might have been what prompted Fina to open a browser window and run another search on Pamela, even though she’d done one a couple of weeks before.

This time, Fina took a page from Ronald Reagan’s playbook: She decided to trust, but verify.

And when she couldn’t verify, it all started to make sense.

—