MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (15 page)

He gave her an angry glance. “I think you should leave. Sinay doesn't want to talk to anyone.”

Penelope tried again to look around him at Sinay, but he took a step closer and blocked her again.

“Excuse me, but she can answer for herself. Sinay?” Penelope put her hand on his upper arm to gently push him aside. She felt something under his sleeve and pressed harder. It was a bandage wrapped tightly around his bicep. She looked down, saw red tennis shoes, then looked back up at his sweaty face.

He held her stare for a second, then turned and bolted towards the door, knocking over a few bags of potato chips from the nearby shelf.

“Adir!” Sinay shouted as he ran.

Penelope took off after him, skidding out of the doorway and heading right. She chased him down the avenue as he ducked around a few people on the sidewalk.

“Stop! Adir!” Penelope shouted as she ran. She kept her injured wrist tight against her body so as not to bump it or catch it on anything. It began to throb with each step, but she pressed on, keeping his head in sight as she ran.

A police siren blipped behind her and a familiar voice came over the loudspeaker. “Police! Stop!” Officer Gomez sped past Penelope and turned the next corner, cutting Adir off. He pulled up and stopped, putting his hands on his knees for a second, then collapsing onto the sidewalk. Penelope ran up behind him just as Officer Gomez emerged from the car and walked towards them from the opposite direction. They stood over Adir, who panted loudly and held his bandaged bicep with his opposite hand, writhing in pain on the sidewalk.

“Who is this?” Officer Gomez asked as she knelt down to get a better look at his face.

“This is Adir, boyfriend of Joyce Alves's housekeeper, Sinay. He works in the bodega,” Penelope said, regaining her normal breathing. Her head and wrist ached in protest.

“And why were you chasing him?” Officer Gomez asked, a confused expression on her face.

“He's the one who pushed me out the door the other night. He's the one Joey shot.”

Chapter 31

  

Officer Gomez stood at the counter of the bodega talking to Adir's uncle, the store's owner. Penelope, Adir, and Sinay watched them through the doorway of the stockroom, picking up on a few words here and there. They had pulled Sinay's laundry cart inside and shut the door, flipping the sign to CLOSED.

“Why did you run from me?” Penelope asked Adir.

He sat on a tall stool, holding his injured arm and rocking back and forth slightly. Sinay watched him with quiet alarm, clearly overwhelmed by everything that was happening. His face was pale, his brown skin taking on a greenish hue under his eyes.

“I don't have to say anything to you.” He sneered. “You're just another rich housewife who thinks it's okay to purchase children to clean your mansion. You make me sick.”

“Adir,” Sinay said, but he raised his hand to silence her.

“Is that what's happening at your house, Sinay?” Penelope asked.

Sinay nodded, keeping her eyes on Adir.

“If Miss Joyce is mistreating girls, then we can do something about it,” Penelope said, glancing back at Officer Gomez. She was nodding at Adir's uncle as he spoke, her hands perched on her police belt. “Officer Gomez has suspected something's going on at the house for a while now. Why haven't you gone to the police?”

Sinay stared at the floor and pulled her sweater sleeves up slowly, revealing the welts Penelope had noticed when Sinay was washing the dishes. “Miss Joyce said I was gone too long one time and she did this to me. Said it would be worse for me if I ever told on her.”

Penelope gazed at the rash and went to touch it. Sinay pulled her arm away at first, but then held it up for Penelope to see. It looked better than it had the day before, but was still red and irritated. “What did she do?”

“Drain cleaner. She made me keep it there for five minutes, because I was five minutes late.” Sinay trailed off and her eyes glassed over with tears.

Penelope fought back her own tears, fueled more by anger than pain. She put her arm around Sinay's stiff shoulders, hugging her gently. “Did you see a doctor about this?”

Sinay shook her head.

“You see? That woman is the devil,” Adir said, spitting his words.

Officer Gomez stepped inside the stock room and looked at the three of them. “Okay. You want to tell me what is going on here?” She glanced at his arm.

Adir glared at her for a second, then shrugged. “I don't have to.”

“You appear injured. Your uncle says you've been sick but refuse to go to the doctor. Did you get shot the other night while fleeing a crime scene?” Officer Gomez's radio sputtered on her waist and she reached down to mute it.

“Adir, I think this lady wants to help us,” Sinay said, looking at Penelope.

“Help us?” Adir scoffed. “Yes, she will help us go to jail.”

“What were you doing at Christian's the night he was killed? Did you go there and shoot him because he was hurting Sinay?” Penelope asked.

Sinay shook her head furiously. “No, Mr. Christian didn't hurt me. He was very nice to me.”

“What were you doing in his apartment, then, Adir?” Penelope asked, glancing at Officer Gomez.

Adir stared at them silently, but Penelope felt he was considering his options.

“Fine. If you're not going to tell me, I'll place you under arrest. We'll sort it out with the detectives back at the station,” Officer Gomez said, unhooking her handcuffs from her belt.

“Wait,” Sinay said. “Please don't. It's my fault. I don't want Adir to get into trouble.”

“Sinay, don't,” Adir warned, his face softening as he looked into her eyes.

“Adir, we're going to trust her,” she said.

She slipped out of the door of the stockroom and over to her laundry cart, pulling a few bags of dirty clothes off of it and digging out a shoebox underneath. She came back to the stockroom and handed it to Penelope.

“What's this?” Penelope asked, pulling off the lid.

“This was in Miss Joyce's suitcase. I unpacked it when she got back from her trip. She's planning on bringing over a new group of girls from Venezuela, where she got me.”

“How do you know this?” Penelope asked.

“Look at the pictures,” Sinay said.

Penelope pulled a stack of Polaroids from the box.

“That's my sister,” Sinay said quietly.

“How does she bring them over here without anyone asking questions?” Penelope asked.

Sinay reached into the box and pulled out a document, holding it up for Penelope to see. It looked like a handwritten invoice, but it listed descriptions for five girls, including names and ages. For each girl there was what looked like an adoption agreement, signed by Joyce Alves.

“What is all of this?” Officer Gomez asked, stepping closer to look at the papers. Penelope filled Officer Gomez in on what she had found out and her trip down to Mrs. Sotheby's basement.

“It looks like she's pretending to adopt these girls,” Penelope said.

“But when they get here, she sells them as servants to wealthy clients,” Adir said. “They pay a fee and then they get a nanny or a housekeeper. They treat the girls like slaves.”

Penelope's stomach did a slow turn. She thought about the burns on Sinay's arms and turned to Officer Gomez. “There, you have proof now. Call for backup and arrest her.”

Officer Gomez thought for a second then asked Sinay, “Is there anyone being held in the basement right now?”

Sinay shook her head sadly. “She found work for the last girl yesterday. But she told me to clean the basement, wash the towels and sheets.” She nodded towards the laundry cart. “The new girls on that list are supposed to arrive tonight. Please, you can't let her hurt my sister.”

Officer Gomez sighed. “This is good. With this it's possible I can get a warrant to search the house, hopefully find more evidence.”

“What else do you need to arrest her?” Penelope said, pointing at the paperwork.

“This is a start, but to really make the best case against her, make sure she doesn't walk out the next day for something minor like assault, it would be better to catch her with a victim or making a transaction. She's abused Sinay, but if she's really adopting and selling off young girls, I want to have iron clad proof of that when I arrest her.”

“How do the clients know to get the girls from Miss Joyce?” Penelope asked.

“I don't know how they find out. Probably from each other, by word of mouth,” Sinay said. “But I know they use a system. Miss Joyce calls them her Blue Card Clients. If they mention they got a blue card from someone, she'll know one of her clients referred them to purchase a girl.”

Penelope looked back down at the names of the girls on the paper.

“Denise, what if I go in there and pretend to buy a girl for Arlena? Joyce knows I'm on her staff. I'll say we need help around the house.” She looked hopefully at Officer Gomez.

“That's pretty risky. We should call this in and have the detectives send over an undercover unit to do that.”

“Gomez,” Penelope said. “You've suspected this woman of doing something illegal for a long time, but no one believed you. You're the one who said someone in your department might be protecting her. We can't let anyone else fall victim to Joyce Alves because someone is tipping her off.”

Officer Gomez looked at her. “Even if that's true, I can't send a civilian into a dangerous situation.”

“Pretend I didn't say anything, then. I'm just going to talk to her, like I did before,” Penelope said quickly. “Joyce is by herself in the house now that Christian is gone. She's met me with Arlena already…she's going to trust me more than someone she's never met before.”

“Still, I don't think—” Officer Gomez began.

“I have a better chance at not making her suspicious, Denise,” Penelope insisted.

“I would like to take her down,” Officer Gomez said warily. “I can't stop you from talking to her, obviously. I also can't endorse you doing it either. I'm advising you not to do it.”

Penelope's shoulders caved and she shook her head.

“But if I was going to talk to her,” Officer Gomez said, looking away from Penelope, “I'd bring up the subject of getting a house girl, but I wouldn't get in her face about it. And I'd get out of there immediately if I felt at all threatened.”

“I will, I promise,” Penelope said, relieved.

“I didn't hear that,” Officer Gomez said. “But I'll be waiting outside, taking my break.”

Sinay hugged Penelope, which took her by surprise.

Penelope looked at Adir and said, “You still haven't said why you were in Christian's apartment the night he was murdered.”

“We're running away,” Adir said. “We knew he had cash and drugs up there, and we could use all of that money to escape.”

Adir stood up and pushed a box aside on the top shelf of the metal storage rack, exposing a small duffle bag. He pulled it down and handed it to Penelope. She recognized it as the one she had seen that night bouncing off of Adir's hip as she lay on the patio.

Penelope unzipped the bag and saw a pile of money and two diamond-studded dog collars inside, the ones Max and Christian wore the night Christian was killed.

“Unfortunately this puts you at the scene of a murder, and I can now arrest you for robbery,” Officer Gomez said, looking into the bag.

“He was dead when I got there. I didn't kill anyone. We just wanted to get away, start over somewhere together,” Adir said. He alternated between sweat and shivers in his jacket.

“Where were the dog collars?” Penelope asked.

“They were just sitting out on the counter. I had to search for the other stuff,” Adir said, shrugging.

“Let me look at your arm,” Officer Gomez said.

He pulled his jacket off and hiked up the sleeve of his t-shirt. An ace bandage, drenched in dried brown blood, was wrapped around his bicep.

“Yep, you got shot,” Officer Gomez said. “And it looks infected. You need to get to the hospital.”

“I'm going with him,” Sinay said.

“If you're going with him and not going back to Miss Joyce's, I should talk to her now. Can you arrest her if she makes the deal with me?” Penelope asked.

“It would be better if the girls were already here. We'll have her for sure if the hand-off is actually made.”

“I will go back and wait,” Sinay said. “Miss Joyce won't be home tonight. She's going to a show. I can go to the hospital with Adir and she won't notice.”

“Then we'll do the deal with her tomorrow,” Penelope said.

Chapter 32

  

Penelope knocked on Mrs. Sotheby's front door a few minutes later.

“There you are,” Mrs. Sotheby said. “I wondered what on earth could have happened to you.”

“I'm sorry,” Penelope said, stepping inside the foyer. “I ran into someone outside. I have to get going, but I may have an idea of what's been going on next door. Hopefully after tomorrow it won't be happening anymore.”

“Well, that's exciting,” Mrs. Sotheby said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe,” Penelope said. “Will you be home tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, I'll be here for most of the day.”

“Great. I have something in mind. See you then.”

  

Penelope hailed a cab on the avenue and dialed Joey's number. It rang several times before going to voicemail.

“Joey, hi, it's me. I found the guy from the other night. The one you...you know, hit. He's cooperating with the police. Can you call me back? I hope this makes things easier for you at work. Love you.”

She hung up and tapped Arlena's number.

Arlena picked up after the first ring. “Pen, where are you?”

“I just figured out part of what happened at Christian's the other night. Unfortunately, it's not enough to clear Max of murder, but I feel like I'm getting closer. Where are you?”

“I'm in a bistro near Hannah's building. I haven't seen the little witch yet.”

“Okay, stay put, I'm heading your way.”

Penelope spotted Arlena in the window of the bistro across the street from Max's building, a half-eaten cheeseburger and fries platter on the table in front of her.

“Hungry, huh?” Penelope asked, eyeing the plate.

“Actually, I'm starving all the time now. I don't know if it's psychological or just something I'm doing to fill the time between bad news reports. I've probably gained ten pounds already.”

Penelope looked at her skeptically before changing the subject. Arlena's eyes widened behind her large sunglasses as Penelope told her about her trip to Joyce's and what she had planned for the next day. When she'd finished, Arlena said, “I can't believe what that horrible woman is doing.”

“I know,” Penelope said. “But Sinay said Christian was nice to her, and they had no reason to kill him. Sinay heard the shots and called her boyfriend after everything had quieted down. Joyce was out of town, so she could use the phone without getting into trouble. Adir came to check on her, then decided to ransack Christian's apartment for getaway money.”

Arlena sighed. “It's great you're going to help those girls. But Max is still on the hook for Christian's murder unless we find the truth.”

“You haven't heard from Max?” Penelope asked.

Arlena shook her head. “I know he's scared, but he can't just run away. He cares about our family—he wouldn't leave us here to deal with everything. I'm sure he's somewhere cooling off, thinking about everything. He'll come back after he's had some time.”

“I hope so,” Penelope said. “He can't forfeit a two-million-dollar bond, can he?”

“Of course not,” Arlena said. “He would never do that to Daddy.”

Penelope gazed at the front door of Max's building. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she almost missed Hannah walking out the front doors.

“There she is,” Penelope said.

They stood up from the table and hurried outside, jaywalking across the street and following her down the sidewalk.

Hannah walked toward the corner, hugging a large knit sweater over her small shoulders.

“Hannah,” Arlena called from behind.

Hannah's shoulders stiffened but she kept walking, quickening her pace, her slouchy satchel purse bouncing off her hip.

“Hannah, wait,” Arlena called again.

Hannah slowed her pace and looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes when she saw it was Arlena and Penelope. “What?” she asked impatiently. Her hair was tucked up in a knit hat, and she wore large sunglasses that obscured her small face.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” Arlena asked, glancing at the bookstore windows.

“Talk about what?” Hannah asked.

Arlena looked down at the much shorter girl. “Let's talk about the lies you're telling about my brother.”

Hannah twisted her mouth up into a smile and turned on her heel to go.

“Hannah,” Penelope said. “We know you're pregnant.”

Hannah stopped again, turning back to them. “Do you now? How could you know a thing like that?”

“I saw the positive pregnancy test in Max's bathroom,” Penelope said. A few people walked past them, giving them mildly curious glances as they went, but no one stopped.

“You're quite the detective.” Hannah laughed. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag and lit one up, smirking at them through the cloud of smoke she blew from her mouth.

“You shouldn't be smoking,” Arlena said. “You have to take better care of yourself now.”

“See, that's the thing. I don't have to worry about that at all. Because it's not me who's pregnant,” Hannah said, taking another drag. “You're smart, but obviously not smart enough to see what's right in front of you.”

Arlena stepped closer to Hannah and stared down at her. “Are you telling everyone Max killed Christian because you're jealous of him and another woman?”

Hannah nonchalantly blew out more smoke. “He made promises to me that he obviously had no intention of keeping. Now he's starting a family with someone else. Good luck to them. We'll see how happily ever after he is after defending himself against a murder charge.”

“But I saw you with someone else too,” Penelope said. “I saw you making out with Christian in the bathroom of the club the night of the fashion show.”

Hannah took another drag of her cigarette and threw it on the sidewalk, crushing it under the toe of her boot. “So? Max is allowed to play the field and I'm not? I thought I'd give Max a taste of his own medicine. A jealous man can't ignore you.” She smiled playfully at Penelope. “I saw you go down that hallway, knew you'd be in the bathroom, and would run back to squeal on me to your beloved Madison family. Yeah, he talked about you all the time. I know how close you think they are to you.” Hannah eyed Arlena up and down from behind her glasses, stopping for a moment to stare at her waist.

Penelope shook her head and said, “You saw who killed Christian, you were there. Why don't you just tell the truth and end this? Don't you care at all about what happens to Max?”

Hannah glanced away, a momentary flash of guilt crossing her face. “I didn't see anything. I only heard Max and Christian arguing in the living room from the bathroom. I listened at the door to hear what they were saying, but it was only Max saying something about being responsible. Imagine that, talking about responsibility, drunk at three in the morning. Then I heard more shouting and a gunshot. I hid in the bathroom until it was quiet, and then I left. Christian was dead and Max was gone.”

“Max wouldn't have left you there if you were in danger,” Arlena said.

“That's the thing. You don't know Max as well as you think you do, big sister.” She turned and walked away from them, slipping into the crowd of people waiting at the crosswalk.

  

Arlena and Penelope sat in the café at the bookstore and sipped tea. “That was sort of helpful, but where does that leave Max? It feels like with everything we find out, we're making things more complicated for him, not less.”

Angel waved at Penelope as she passed by with a stack of books in her arm.

“That's the lady who saw Max and Sienna together in this store,” Penelope said. “She said they seemed intimate.”

“They're good friends,” Arlena said, once again dismissing the idea.

“Has Sienna returned your call?”

“No, but she's busy. She's wrapping up here and going back to London in about two weeks,” Arlena said. “Maybe she switched hotels or something came up and she had to get home earlier. I'll try again to get in touch.”

Penelope glanced at the clock on the wall of the café. It was shaped like a coffee urn and the hands were made from two spoons. It was hard to tell exactly, but it looked like it was getting close to four o'clock.

“I have to get to work soon,” Penelope said. “It's going to be another long night.”

“You haven't slept,” Arlena said. “How are you going to make it through another night?”

“I don't know. I'll just have to,” Penelope said. She hadn't felt tired until they started talking about how tired she should feel. Exhaustion nipped at the edges of her mind. “I'll drink lots of coffee.”