Stealing Time (21 page)

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Authors: Leslie Glass

Tags: #Detective, #Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction - Mystery, #New York (N.Y.), #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Policewomen, #Fiction, #Woo, #April (Fictitious character), #Mystery & Detective - Police Procedural, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Police, #Chinese American Women, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Literary, #General & Literary Fiction, #Wife abuse, #Women detectives

BOOK: Stealing Time
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"Of course I'm upset. The police have fucked this whole thing up. There's someone watching me all the time. Look at that guy. They think I had something to do with this." He pointed at the uniform in front of his wife's room.
"It might be useful to get a little insight into what was going on in your life before this happened."
"I told the police everything I know," Popescu said, a little uneasily. He glanced quickly at his companion, then turned back to Jason. "What do you want to know?"
"There is some speculation that Heather may have harmed the baby—" Jason said.
"I know, I know. That's bullshit," Anton burst out.
"We need to rule it out as a possibility."
"This is making me nuts."
"You have some question about it?" Jason asked.
"No, no, absolutely not."
"She has a number of bruises and scars on her body that predate this incident—"
Anton nodded, gloomily. "Yes, she has some problems. This goes back a long way. She's a clumsy person." He shook his head. "It really worries me. Some people are just dangerous in the kitchen."
"What do you mean?"
"She just"—he rolled his eyes up to the sky as if only God could explain it—"knocks into things. Trips and falls. I swear to God, I've never seen anything like it. She could be humming along just fine, and suddenly—
bam.
She's on the floor, tripped over her own feet. I'm a busy man and I can't tell you how much time I have to spend mopping up after her. Icing her wounds." He made a noise. "But I don't want a medal for it. Somebody has to take care of her." He made another noise. "I swear the woman should have a nurse." He raised his shoulders, shaking his head fondly. "But what can you do?"
"Would you say you have a good relationship?"
"With Roe?" He laughed as if it were a ridiculous question. "Of course, she's my wife."
"What's she like?"
Anton shook his head some more. "She gets distracted."
"How would you describe that behavior?" Jason took a notebook out of his briefcase and opened it.
"It's damn difficult is what it is. The woman doesn't pay attention to what she's supposed to be doing and gets herself in trouble. I think she got kind of depressed when she found out she couldn't have children."
"What do you mean?"
Anton glanced at his companion again. Jason looked at him, too. The man started nibbling on his thumbnail, didn't say a thing.
Jason prompted. "You were saying—"
"She wanted children, couldn't have them. You heard me." He said this angrily, as if the infertility were Jason's fault.
"Was this an area of conflict for you?"
"What does that mean?"
"Do you fight about it?"
He looked surprised. "Fight, with Roe?" He laughed.
"What's funny?"
"Didn't I tell you how much time I have to spend trying to help her, nursing her damn injuries? I give her everything, anything she wants, and I take
so
much shit from her." He shook his head. "She wanted a baby, I got her one. What more could I do?"
"Do you ever get mad enough to pop her one?"
"Hell, no. I don't hurt her. She hurts
me.
Look at this whole thing she's—"
"You think she somehow engineered this?"
Anton shot him a look, raising his hands to his face.
"You mean these injuries could be self-inflicted?" He seemed interested in the theory.
So did his buddy, who now spoke for the first time. "Could be that."
"Shut up. Marc."
"She has some burn scars on her arms," Jason prompted. Anton shook his head, didn't want to talk about that.
"They look as if they must have hurt her pretty bad."
Anton clicked his tongue. "I shouldn't have brought her here. Now she's an exhibit, on trial. That has nothing to do with this."
"Who knows? Maybe the two are connected."
"What are you, some kind of shrink?"
"Yes."
"What!" Anton exploded. "Now I'm talking to a fucking shrink? I thought I was talking to a doctor. I shouldn't have to put up with this. Somebody kidnapped my baby."
"Since there aren't papers for the baby, I gather the police have widened their investigation. They're looking for the birth parents now," Jason murmured.
"I know." Anton shook his head some more. "Isn't this something?"
"What's the problem about telling them?"
"I don't deserve to suffer like this. I've given this woman everything. Do you know what her family is like . . . huh? You know where she comes from? These people are primitive. They didn't have a pot to piss in."
"Where did you meet?"
Anton's chest puffed up. "At Yale."
"She must be pretty smart to go to Yale."
"I wouldn't marry a dummy, would I?—This is my brother, Marc," he said suddenly.
"Hi," Marc said to Jason. "Heather's smart as a whip," he added helpfully. "She's not just a dumb Chink."
"No one ever implied that. You told me there are some problems in the marriage, though, and Heather has scars on her body. Let's not beat around the bush here. Either she scarred herself, or someone else has been burning her repeatedly."
Anton looked at his brother, then dismissed it. "She fries things in hot oil. You know how they like fried food."
"You told me she's been depressed, you couldn't have children."
"I said she couldn't have children. But she was
not
depressed. She lives in luxury, gets everything she wants. I gave her a baby, didn't I?"
"Do you think she might have killed the baby because it wasn't hers?"
"No, absolutely not ... I don't know." Anton lowered his voice.
"Is there anything else she might have done with the baby? Do you think she might have given him to someone, a family member, a friend—"
Anton interrupted. "Not possible. Her family is in California. She doesn't have any friends. I can't think. . . ." Miserably, he sought help from his brother.
Marc leaned over and gave him a reassuring hug. Anton pushed him away roughly. "Get off me."
"What other options do we have? How about the baby's biological mother?"
"No, she doesn't even know about—" His face purpled. "I've had enough of this."
"Well, thank you for talking with me." Jason rose from his chair and put his notebook back in his briefcase.
"What do you think you're doing? Give me that."
"Come on, Anton. Let's not fight with a doctor."
"He's a shrink. The man's a fucking shrink."

"Yeah, so what can he do?" "Without your help, not much," Jason told them. "What about my wife? What did she tell you?" Anton was nearly in tears.

"Oh, she's still unconscious. She hasn't said a thing yet," Jason told them.

CHAPTER 23
M
ilton Hua was not back from work at the restaurant when April Woo finally returned Nanci's call, soon after ten
P.M.
"Hey, Nanci, I got your message. What did you do, go and move to Long Island?" April demanded when Nanci picked up on the first ring.
"April, oh God, thanks for getting back to me so soon. Yeah, Milton has his own restaurant now. We bought a house in the suburbs, can you believe it?"
"Sure, I believe it. Food any good?"
"You know it is." Nanci's voice dropped. "April, are you at work?"
"I have time for you, Nanci. We go back a long way. So there are big changes in your life, huh? You two breeding yet?"
"What?" The question startled her.
"Just wondering if you've started a family."
"Oh, that." She twisted the phone cord. "Funny you should ask that. No, not yet. You know Milton. He had to have every
i
dotted, every
t
crossed, money in the bank, the whole bit before he'd commit to family. How about you, married yet?"
"No, but I've been promoted. I'm a sergeant now."
Nanci could hear the pride in her voice. "Congratulations. That's—great." There was a lot of noise in the background that stopped her from going on. April was at work. Nanci couldn't help being afraid of the police. Now she was nervous because April had a higher rank. She wasn't sure how that altered the situation. Would she be more sympathetic to the situation or less?
"So, you called me, Nanci. What's going on? You have a problem?"
"Yes, I have a big problem. But we haven't seen each other for a while. Things have kind of changed. I don't know where to start." Nanci dropped the phone cord and started twisting her wedding band around on her finger.
"Nothing's changed between us. I've known you since you were seven."
"And you were a real goody-goody twelve-year-old."
"So give."
"Did I ever tell you about my cousin Lin?" Nanci knew she probably hadn't.
"What about her? Is she the one in trouble?"
Nanci was ashamed of herself, ashamed of this story. She was sitting in a comfortable house and her cousin was sick somewhere and a lot of people who should be taking care of her were lying about where she was and what had happened to her.
"Yes, and she's all the family I have left. Except for Milton, of course. She came in from China last summer."
"Illegal?"
"You going to make trouble about it?"
"Immigration is not my department, you know that. Go ahead, what's the problem?"
"You know how difficult sixteen-year-olds can be. Lin got here, thought she was too old to go to school, didn't want to live with us. Went to work in a factory. I couldn't get a word out of her. I thought she might have a boyfriend in the gangs and that was the reason for her being so secretive."
"What kind of secretive? Was she into something, flashing money around?"
Nanci sighed. "No. That was the thing. She was a mess, living in a dump. I didn't hear from her for a while."
"Could you hurry it up a little, Nanci? I'm working on something."
Nanci's voice got very small. "I know you're busy. But I didn't have anybody else to call."
"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm under a lot of pressure right now. Go ahead."
"Well, we had a fight. I wanted to apologize. So I went to look for her, but the people where she used to work told me they've never heard of her. The people where she lived say the lady from work took her to the hospital. I went to Beekman Downtown; she wasn't there. Then I called
all
the hospitals. She's not anywhere. I even checked the morgue. That's pretty crazy, isn't it?"
"I hope so." The noise intensified on the other end of the line.
"What's going on there? Did something happen?"
"Don't you read the newspapers out there on Long Island? We got a missing-kid case."
"Are you working on that, April?" Nanci said faintly.
"The mother's Chinese. ABC, but they thought she might not speak English. I got lucky."
"American-born, huh?"
"Yeah, she got herself beaten up. Nice mixed marriage. He's a lawyer. Looks like it's not working out. You're lucky you have Milton."
"I know." Nanci fell silent. "I'm sorry to bother you, April. Maybe I'm making too much of this."
"It's not a problem." April's interest seemed to sharpen suddenly. "Give me some last-seens and I'll get on it. I have to go downtown tomorrow anyway. I'll make some time for it, okay?"
Nanci was doubting the wisdom of having made the call. She should be able to deal with this herself. Why involve the cops? She might even make it worse. "Could be she's just run off with a boyfriend," she said slowly.
"Could be."
"People lie all the time," Nanci said.
April agreed with her. "They do. But you're worried. I'll check it out. Where did she work? Where did she live? What's her name?"
"Tsing, same as mine was. Our fathers were brothers. Maybe I should give it another day, huh? Do you think I'm overreacting?"
April sounded impatient. "I'm not going to fight with you. You want help, you give me the info. I'll handle it discreetly, okay? Do you have a picture of her?"
"We just moved. Stuff is everywhere. If I look around, I might be able to find one. Can I let you know about all this tomorrow?"
"You can let me know any day. You have my number."

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