by Rickie Blair
Once they reached his apartment he locked the door and sank into an armchair in the living room, letting his arms trail over the side.
After placing Benjamin’s laptop on the coffee table, Ruby sat on the sofa opposite.
“Hari—”
“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t start with me. Only twice in my life has someone tried to kill me and both times I was with you.”
She flopped back against the sofa and glared at him.
“That is absurdly unfair. Are you suggesting that what happened with Antony and you and the Russians was my fault?”
Hari winced. “You have a point. Sorry.”
“As for today, may I point out it was your idea to go to Jersey City?”
He tossed his glasses onto the magazines on the coffee table, sat up, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Which only makes it worse. I put your life in jeopardy and that’s unacceptable. This case is too dangerous. Whatever’s going on here, it will take more than a forensic accountant and an amateur sleuth to solve it. We have to wrap this up. As for the laptop, that’s probably what the gunman was looking for. Ben must have hidden it under the sofa and they missed it the first time they were there.”
Ruby sat up straight and feigned indignation.
“Excuse me? Not going to—allow it? This is an equal partnership, buddy. You’re not in charge of me. And another thing, did you call me an amateur sleuth? Amateur?” She puffed out her breath. “That’s not very nice.”
The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Consider me scolded.” With a sigh, he replaced his glasses. “Well, against my better judgment, what do you suggest we do?”
Ruby had opened the laptop while Hari talked.
“I planned to suggest we go through Benjamin’s laptop, but that’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“We’ll have to turn it over to the police, I guess. Maybe they can crack it.”
“The police? You’re agreeing with me suddenly? That’s a refreshing change, if a bit unexpected. And a good decision, I might add, because—wait a minute.” Hari narrowed his eyes. “Crack what?”
“The password. You’ll never decode it.” She turned the laptop to face him. “It’s way too hard.” She widened her eyes. “Benjamin Levitt must be wicked smart.”
Hari gave her a suspicious look and then glanced at a pop-up box on the screen that was demanding an eight-digit password. He slid forward in his chair and hunched over the laptop.
“Contrary to popular belief, it’s not impossible to break an eight digit code. I’ve got software that...” He typed in a few words without success. “Hmmmph.” He pulled the laptop closer.
“Oh my goodness, is that the time?” Ruby said. “I gotta run, Hari. I’ll check in with you later.”
He nodded without looking up, still typing. “Damn,” he said, peering at the screen.
She closed the door behind her, trying not to grin.
* * *
Ruby climbed the steps from the subway and strolled to her building. A warm spring breeze ruffled her hair and tickled the locust trees that shaded the brownstones’ iron balconies. She sauntered along, enjoying the sunshine and anticipating her walk in the park with Charlie. But as she turned the final corner she saw two police cars, lights flashing, parked outside her building. The doorman stood on the sidewalk and gave her a worried look as she approached.
“What’s up, Lionel?” Ruby asked. “Why are the police here?”
With a shake of his head, he pushed open the door for her.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Delaney, I’m afraid they’re in your apartment. We’re still trying to figure out how it happened. There’s been a lot of back and forth today with the movers, but I swear nobody got past me who shouldn’t have.”
Ruby flew up the three flights of stairs two steps at a time, her heart pounding, and was breathless by the time she reached her unit. In the hall outside her door a walkie-talkie crackled in the hands of a constable.
She halted in the open doorway and clapped a hand over her mouth, scanning the room. Tables were overturned, lamps broken, and sofa cushions slashed. Beyond the open door, Zelda was huddled with two officers, one in uniform and the other a detective wearing a navy suit and striped tie. He took notes as Zelda spoke, the furrows on his forehead accentuating his receding hairline. Charlie nestled in Zelda’s arms.
Ruby crossed the room on trembling legs and slumped into a ruined armchair with her head in her hands. Zelda walked up.
“Ruby, I’m so sorry.” Charlie jumped from Zelda’s arms and scampered to his mistress, who patted him absently. “We went out for a walk, only an hour, and when we came back...” Zelda’s usually stern face sagged and she brushed away a tear. “I’m so sorry.”
Ruby rose to hug her. “It’s not your fault,” she said, rubbing Zelda’s back. “And I’m glad you and Charlie weren’t here, or who knows what might have happened.”
Her secretary pressed her quivering lips together.
“The worst is upstairs, I’m afraid,” she said, sniffling.
Ruby rummaged through her purse and handed her a clean tissue. Zelda held it to her face for a moment before speaking again.
“Your office is completely ransacked. They emptied the filing cabinets and your papers are all over the floor.” She balled up the tissue in one hand and lifted a trembling chin. “I’ll sort it out immediately.”
Ruby glanced at the circular staircase. What would anyone want with their filing cabinets? She led Zelda to an armchair.
“Never mind about the files. We can deal with them tomorrow. Sit here and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”
Ruby whirled at a tap on the shoulder from the officer in the navy suit.
“Ms. Delaney? Detective Nolan. We need a list of everything that’s missing, when you feel up to it.” He handed her a business card. “Your assistant filled us in on most of it, but you can reach me at this number if you remember anything else.”
Ruby’s hand trembled as she stared at the blurred words on the card.
“How did they get past the doorman?”
“A family moved in today and the movers might have left the service entrance propped open.” Nolan studied her face intently. “The burglars trashed your apartment pretty thoroughly, but your secretary says she was out with your dog for only an hour. Did anyone know you’d both be out at that time?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you have any idea what the intruders were looking for?”
“There’s nothing here that isn’t always here, except…” Her breath caught in her throat. “Wait. There’s a laptop, my partner has a laptop.” She reached for her cellphone to dial Hari’s number and waited anxiously as it rang. No answer.
“What laptop?” Nolan asked.
“My business partner and I recently acquired a laptop that belongs to … a client.” She rattled off Hari’s address and Nolan scrawled it on his pad. “He was working on it when I left, but he’s not answering his phone. Please send someone to see if he’s okay.”
Nolan walked to the entrance to speak to the constable with the walkie-talkie and returned.
“It’s taken care of. They’ll get back to us shortly.”
Ruby nodded and went into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. With the phone held against her shoulder, she emptied a tin of biscuits onto a plate and tried Hari’s number again. Still no answer. She put the phone into her pocket. Her hands shook as she placed the plate on a wooden tray and added mugs, milk, sugar, and spoons. After dropping tea bags into a teapot, she filled it with boiling water and added it to the rest. When she picked up the heavy tray and turned to the living area, it wobbled in her grip. She lowered it onto the kitchen island and rested both hands on the edge with her head bowed.
Nolan walked over, picked up the tray and winked at her.
“Where do you want this?”
She forced a smile.
“The coffee table, please.”
Ruby followed him, filled a mug for Zelda and handed it to her. Then she filled another for Nolan, who smiled and shook his head. When she gestured at the officer in the doorway, Nolan shook his head again.
“He’s fine.”
Ruby tried to sip her tea but found it difficult to swallow. She put the mug down to try Hari’s number again, recalling the gunman in Benjamin’s darkened house and the shots that had shattered the doorframe and the car window. She would give Hari two minutes. If she hadn’t heard from him in two minutes, she would tell the police everything. Hari might be in jail, but he would be alive.
“I’m sure your partner will be fine,” the detective said. She gave him a tight smile with the phone pressed to her ear.
The walkie-talkie held by the officer at the door crackled and he lifted it to reply. After a short conversation, he motioned to Nolan. The two spoke briefly, then the officer took up his post at the door again and Nolan walked back to the living area, his face grim. Ruby stood up, her heart thumping.
“I’m afraid Mr. Bhatt has been attacked by an intruder,” he said.
Her hands flew to her mouth and she turned to the door.
“I have to get over there.”
Nolan held up a hand to stop her.
“He’s okay, no serious injuries. He’s awake and alert and on his way to hospital. I’m heading over there now. As soon as I hear where they’ve taken him, I’ll let you know so you can go directly there. I’m also leaving an officer outside your door for the time being, at least until the locksmith arrives.”
Nodding, Ruby collapsed into the armchair, fighting tears as she surveyed the room’s torn upholstery, toppled lamps, and upended drawers. This was not a random burglary. This was a warning.
At her feet, Charlie tilted his head and whimpered. She tapped her knee and he leapt onto her lap to lean up against her. If the feisty terrier had been in the apartment during the break-in, he would have attacked the intruders and they might have killed him. And what about Zelda? What might have happened to her? She glanced at her housekeeper, whose hands still shook.
Ruby’s gaze turned to the window, where a china figurine lay broken on the floor. She lifted Charlie off her lap and walked over to pick up two of the pieces and try to fit them together. It was a statuette of Columbina, the clever, flirtatious, and impudent character from the Commedia dell’Arte who was usually paired with Harlequin in his checkered costume. Her sister had found the figurine years earlier, at a flea market in Paris. She gave it to Ruby when she landed her first acting gig. It had only been a commercial, but Lily had been so proud.
Ruby placed the broken china pieces on an end table next to the slashed sofa. Her hands were shaking again, but from anger this time, not fear. She picked up her purse and fished out the card Ford Robinson had given her with Vincent Quinn’s number. Could there be a connection between Benjamin’s disappearance, the TradeFair fraud, and Natalia’s investment? It seemed unlikely, and yet … Ruby glanced around at her ransacked apartment, pulled out her phone, and squared her jaw. It would take more than broken china to get rid of her.
Chapter Fifteen
Hari cracked open one eye and stifled a groan. He was sprawled on the floor and, judging from the pain in his back and shoulder, he had hit it hard on the way down. His glasses lay a foot away and beyond them were the blurry outlines of the kitchen tiles and the bottom of the fridge. Something sticky trickled from his hair and onto his face. He remembered answering the door, but his head was pounding and the details were fuzzy. Bloody hell. Should he try to get up?
At the sound of footsteps in the bedroom, he shut his eyes again. Crashes in the other room sounded like drawers being yanked out and dropped. The sticky liquid dripped into his eye and he fought the impulse to wipe it away. Best to play dead, or at least unconscious.
The footsteps came closer and stopped beside his head. Someone grabbed his hair and jerked his head up off the floor. Hari tried not to gasp.
“Where’s the laptop, asshole?”
Hari struggled to keep his face blank and his eyes shut. Stale boozy breaths gusted over his face.
“I know you’re awake.”
Without warning, his head slammed onto the floor with a nasty thunk. Despite his best intentions, he winced at the impact.
“It will get a lot worse if you don’t tell me where Levitt’s laptop is. I’m tired of searching this stupid apartment.” A hard slap stung his face. “Where is it?”
Wincing, Hari opened his eyes and tried to sit up. A booted foot on his chest pushed him back down.
“Stay where you are.”
Above the foot a blurry face appeared, wearing a baseball cap. Hari wiped his eye, blood staining his fingers, and tried to remember. There had been a knock on the door, but no one visible through the peephole. He had stood there, puzzled, staring into the peephole until the door slammed into his face and he blacked out. Bloody hell. How could he have been so stupid? He pointed at the floor.
“My glasses.”
The foot lifted off his chest and Hari sat up, coughing. He reached for his glasses, put them on with shaky hands, and squinted up through the cracked lenses. The intruder aimed a gun at his head. Hari couldn’t breathe for a moment as he stared at the pistol.
“What do you want?” he rasped, finally.
“Stop dicking around. Where is it?”
Anger drove out the fear.
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because I’m the one with the gun, idiot.”
“You’re more likely to shoot me after I tell you where it is.”
The kick caught him in the side and he gasped in pain.
“I told you to stop dicking around.”
Hari struggled to catch his breath, clutched a hand to his side, and held up his other hand.
“All right. All right. I’ll tell you. But it’s complicated. Let me sit up.”
“It’s complicated? What does that mean?” The intruder gestured with the gun at the living room. “Go in there.”
Hari stumbled into the room, sank onto the sofa and ran both hands through his hair. Yes, what did that mean? He winced as his fingers reached the matted hair on the back of his head. When he pulled his hands back, they were stained with more blood. Pulling up the edge of his T-shirt, he wiped his hands on it while glancing out of the corner of his eye at the intruder. Other than the baseball cap, the man wore no mask or disguise. Which meant Hari could pick him out of a lineup, and the intruder had to know that. What he didn’t know was that Hari could identify him anyway, from the Global TradeFair interviews. This was Terrell Oakes.
Hari stared at the gun, mesmerized, trying to think of something.
“Well?”
“Yes, well, here’s the thing.” He placed both hands on his knees and looked up at Oakes with what he hoped was the appearance of truth. “I put the laptop in a safe deposit box at my bank.”
“They told me you were smart.” Oakes’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Book smarts though, isn’t it? You have no idea how the real world works.” He stepped closer. “Well, here’s the thing. I’m sick of your bullshit.” He raised the gun and slammed it into the side of Hari’s head.
Flashes of light exploded in front of his eyes and he pitched forward, over the coffee table. Later, he vaguely recalled crashes and running footsteps and a police siren, but maybe he imagined those. When he opened his eyes he lay on the floor again, this time on the living room rug. Two faces, one on either side, peered down at him.
“Don’t move, please, sir. You’ve got an ugly bump on your head and we’re taking you to the hospital. Do you know your name?”
“Hari Bhatt. Could you … check the fridge?”
“Sir, you can’t eat or drink anything until you’ve been seen by a doctor.”
“Just tell me if there’s a laptop in the vegetable crisper.”
The faces looked at each other.
Hari tried to sit up, but groaned as a sharp pain jabbed
his side.
“I’m not crazy. Please check.”
“Let me talk to him.”
The two faces moved away, and another came into view.
“Mr. Bhatt? I’m Detective Nolan. Your apartment has been trashed. All the food from your fridge is on the floor. And if there was anything other than food, I’m afraid it’s gone.” He waved an arm at the door. “You can bring in that stretcher now.”
Hari closed his eyes again. Bloody hell. And he had been so close to cracking that damned password.
* * *
After a doctor had taped his cracked ribs, bandaged his head wound, and cleared his CT scan, Hari sat on the edge of a hospital gurney and thumbed through pages of mug shots. The police had sent cars to the Global TradeFair offices and Oakes’s last known address, without any luck.
“None of these look like him.” He handed the book back to Nolan. “Does that mean he doesn’t have a record?”
“Not necessarily. You said he’s young, right?”
“Early twenties, I’d say.”
“He could have a juvenile record which would be sealed, but at this point we don’t even know his real name. We’ve put out an APB with his description and a photo. Something might turn up.” The detective turned to the door, but stood aside as Ruby hurried into the room.
“Oh, my God, Hari. Are you all right?”
Her face was pale as she stood beside him.
“I got here as quickly as I could, but they wouldn’t let me see you until your tests were done.”
He reached for her hand and held it tightly. She squeezed his hand in return and bent to give him a quick hug.
“I was so worried. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but he took the laptop, Ruby.”
“I don’t care about the stupid laptop. I should have left it where it was.”
Hari cleared his throat noisily and nodded at the officer.
“Ruby, this is Detective Nolan. He’s been showing me mug shots.”
She looked up with a start.
“Detective Nolan, of course. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
