by Clea Simon
He reached out his hand and one of the kittens – Murray – began batting at his finger. ‘You’re not the only one.’ He looked up. ‘In fact, that’s what my shrink has been talking to me about. She’s been pushing me to go out, be with my friends. Be with—’ His face fell, but he finished the sentence. ‘Healthy people.’
‘Oh, Chris, I’m so sorry.’ She reached over but he’d withdrawn again, face down, long hands back in his lap, clamped around his mug. She found herself holding on to his forearm. ‘And here I was, wondering if you were, I don’t know, using my laptop as part of the Harvard hacking.’
He looked up again, this time with a weak smile. ‘Actually, the virus has been a great thing for me. A bunch of us in apple math are helping track it, break it down. I like the distraction!’
‘Well, if my laptop shows up, I’ll have more distraction for you.’ She smiled back and leaned forward. Just in time for Helene to clear her throat.
‘’Scuse me, folks, but, Dulcie? The officer would like to speak with you again.’
Forty minutes later, Dulcie felt more drained than her empty mug. The officer had asked a lot of questions, but hadn’t provided any information in return. Was this random? Was it related to Tim’s murder? Dulcie had told the cop one more time about all the calls with nobody on the line, but whenever she tried to ask a question, the young officer steered her back to his own.
‘He kept asking me if I could’ve left the door unlocked, and he wouldn’t say anything about all the hang-ups. He wouldn’t even tell me if there were similar robberies in the area.’ Dulcie was back on Helene’s sofa. At least the police had allowed the landlord’s handyman to come in, and she could hear the hammering as he nailed a board over the broken window.
‘You should get caller ID, child, and a police lock. That damn latch is just too easy to jimmy. I’m just hoping that this time, they got what they wanted.’ Helene was walking back into the kitchen, and Dulcie wasn’t sure she’d heard her.
‘What?’ Chris, sitting beside her, shook his head. He didn’t know what she was talking about, either.
‘I mean, maybe this will be it.’ Helene came back out with the tea kettle and the bottle of rum. Dulcie shook off the rum, but accepted more hot water. ‘Whatever they were looking for when Tim got in the way, maybe now they have it and they won’t bother you anymore.’
‘You think Tim interrupted a robbery, and that’s what got him killed?’ Dulcie, warmed by the previous servings of rum, mulled the idea over. ‘You think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’
Helene shrugged. ‘Makes sense to me.’
‘But I’d been thinking it was personal, with all his girlfriends and everything.’ Helene and Chris both turned to stare, and Dulcie realized that only Suze had heard all her theorizing. ‘He was kind of a dog. He had a girlfriend and at least one other on the side. I’m pretty sure one of his women was in a relationship, so I thought, maybe it was a jealous boyfriend.’ Chris seemed to consider this, but Helene only shook her head.
‘If that was the case, why did they come back?’
‘So you don’t think this – today – was random?’
Helene shot her a look.
‘But all they took was my laptop.’ Dulcie’s head was spinning.
‘That laptop might mean something.’ Chris spoke up. ‘We’re looking at Harvard-connected laptops as the path through which the hackers are attacking the firewall.’ Dulcie thought of Mona, dashing off to get her own machine, as Chris explained the situation to Helene. ‘The head of my department is leading the task force. He thinks the virus was probably inserted into the system through a student computer, maybe even camouflaged in an anti-virus or anti-spyware program. That might be it, Dulcie. Your laptop might be evidence.’
The pieces began to fall into place. ‘Maybe someone did come for my laptop before – and Tim had left the door open again.’ Dulcie was barely aware that she was speaking aloud. ‘I should look into that.’
‘Don’t you think that’s a job for the police?’ Helene was looking at her strangely, like maybe she’d given the girl too much rum. ‘I mean, don’t you think they’ve figured that out, too?’
Dulcie felt her thought processes slowed by the rum. ‘I don’t know.’ She tried to picture her own place in the city, the tensions that always spring up between a wealthy university and its urban neighbors. ‘I don’t know how well coordinated the Cambridge cops are with the university police. Town–gown problems and all.’
‘Well, you could tell them about the linkage,’ her neighbor said. Chris nodded, backing up Helene’s advice.
‘Like they’d believe me . . .’ Dulcie reflected on her previous attempts to make suggestions to the police. ‘I don’t think I’m exactly their favorite person right now.’ And besides, she said to herself, they don’t have Mr Grey helping them.
Twenty-Five
When her cell rang, Dulcie nearly jumped out of her skin. Between Helene’s heady tea, the cops’ questions, and the maintenance crew’s noisy progress, she’d felt her head start to spin once again, and she’d retreated to the stoop to think things through. It had truly been the week from hell. She’d sent Chris home a half-hour before, with many thanks and apologies – and promises to catch up once life settled down. Helene kept sticking her head out, offering more boozy tea, but what Dulcie really needed was a little time alone to piece together all that had happened. As she sat, slumped against the steps, none of it was fitting together.
Was there a reason that two computer crimes were converging on her fairly computer-illiterate life right now? Could the Harvard bug be the reason why Tim’s laptop had been taken? Did it explain why her own place had been burgled? The roar of an industrial vacuum cleaner added to the chaos in her head. If all this did have something to do with Tim’s laptop, was that why Luisa had been attacked? For that matter, what was Luisa’s role in all this? Did the pretty tutor really not remember being pushed, or was she covering for Bruce? Or was it all an elaborate ruse to keep Bruce from finding out about her past with Tim?
Dulcie was trying to find reasons to dismiss the obvious – such as, that perhaps Luisa fell by accident – when the shrill ringtone broke through her daze.
‘Hello? What’s going on?’ The receding buzz was making her cranky.
‘Dulcie, what’s up?’ It was Luke. ‘Hey, I’m sorry for running out on you yesterday. I had to get over to the clinic.’
‘The clinic?’ She hadn’t seen him when she’d visited Luisa, but maybe there was more violence than she’d imagined.
‘The legal clinic. The university is confiscating computers and we’ve got a ton of client files, confidential material, on ours.’ Dulcie sat up and took a deep breath to clear her head. Of course. ‘My boss put out an emergency SOS and since I was already in the Yard, he asked me to get over there a.s.a.p. I’ve been printing and deleting files pretty much nonstop. But I’ve been thinking about you. Can I make up for running out on you? I was wondering about dinner this weekend, if you’re not too busy.’
Dulcie’s head whirled, but not from the tea. One little mystery had been solved – and a date offered. Maybe even a real date this time. ‘I’m sorry, Luke, I’m just all discombobulated right now. You wouldn’t believe the day I just had.’ She looked around the empty street. The kittens were nowhere to be seen, of course. Helene had been properly spooked. She’d be keeping them inside from now on. And Mr Grey? She felt tired just thinking about it all. ‘Someone broke into my place. Someone stole my laptop.’
‘What? Dulcie, are you OK?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I almost interrupted them – him, whoever – but I was distracted.’ She sat up straighter, trying to make herself sober up. It wouldn’t do to start telling Luke ghost stories. ‘And, well, the good news is I’d backed up all my thesis material. I’d emailed all my notes to my old room-mate Suze just last week.’
‘Oh, man. Still, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?’
Just then, her stomach rumbled. Maybe she was waking up. ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a little dinner company right now.’ Chris had suggested getting some food earlier, and she felt a stab of guilt for sending him off. What the hell, Luke would be more appetizing company anyway. ‘I’m famished.’
‘Um, sure.’ There was something wrong, she could hear it.
‘If you’re busy, Luke, forget it. I just have to get something to eat and, well, I don’t think I can do take-out right now.’ The roar of the vacuum had subsided, but Dulcie knew from experience how long it would take to clean up the oily, dark fingerprint powder.
‘No, no, I’m sorry. I’d love to see you. It’s just that everyone here was planning on going out. We’re all pretty wiped. But you could join us. We’re going to Burrito Heaven.’
‘That sounds perfect.’ Right now, a beef and bean special, with plenty of hot sauce, would be balm for the soul. ‘I can be there in fifteen.’
‘OK.’ He was laughing. ‘We’re actually right around the corner. But I’ll order you a Corona and try to keep these guys from scarfing down all the chips before you arrive.’
The walk back into Harvard Square did Dulcie good, clearing her head of everything that had happened. By the time she hit Burrito Heaven, she felt almost human again – a little less freaked out, a lot more awake. But when she stepped into the crowded, noisy Mexican joint, she was in for a surprise.
‘Dulcie! I thought you’d be in for the night.’ Chris was standing in line to order take-out. The look behind his thick glasses was startled, rather than hurt, but Dulcie still felt like a heel.
‘Yeah, I thought so, too. But the cleaners are still working in my apartment and I realized I was starving so—’
‘Dulcie, over here!’ In the back, Luke stood up and waved. Dulcie looked from her skinny friend to the tanned figure who gestured to her from the back of the room. ‘And so, when this guy I know called, I figured . . .’ She could feel her face growing red.
‘Yeah, I can see.’ Chris’s dark eyes flashed an intensity his words lacked.
‘Dulcie, we’re in the back. We’ve got a table.’ Luke had pushed his way up through the crowd. ‘Hi, I’m Luke.’
‘My friend Chris.’ Dulcie tried to make the introductions casual. ‘He was going to help me with my computer – before it got ripped off.’
‘Chris, good to meet you.’ Luke seemed unfazed. Then again, he was a few years older. And blonder and more muscular. ‘You want to join us?’
Dulcie held her breath. ‘Yeah, sure. Why not?’ Chris motioned for Dulcie to take the lead, and together they threaded their way through the crowd.
‘Chris, Dulcie, this is Andy, Rose, Dylan, Matt, Cy . . .’ The noise level drowned out most of the introductions, and Dulcie settled on a hearty general ‘hi’ as Luke pressed a clear bottle into her hand. ‘As promised, Ma’am, your Corona.’ She turned to thank him, but he was already yelling across the table at a skinny black man – Dylan? Matt? – and so she took a long pull of the beer instead. She hadn’t thought it was a date; it certainly wasn’t going to turn into one.
After the craziness of the day, the beer tasted good. More chips arrived, hot and salty, and the volume rose even higher. Between the salt, the shouting, and a killer guacamole, Dulcie found herself ordering another.
‘What?’ She cocked her head as Chris said something to her. He had found a chair just one over from her, but she still had trouble hearing him.
‘A loaner!’ He was shouting at her. ‘I said I could probably get you a loaner computer to work on.’
‘Thanks.’ Chris really was a sweet guy. Suze should definitely reconsider. ‘Sorry?’
‘Backing up! I was asking what kind of backup you had.’
‘The old-fashioned kind. I sent everything to Suze!’ The arrival of the waitress had quietened down the table, and Dulcie found herself yelling into relative silence. ‘Sorry.’ She modulated her voice. ‘I sent copies of everything to Suze about a week ago. I figured I’d just ask her to send it all back. And, uh, I’ll have the burrito grande special, with extra hot sauce.’
‘And another round!’ Luke, to her left, seemed to be ordering for the group, so Dulcie took the moment to sneak behind him on her way to the bathroom. As always, on a crowded Friday, there was a line.
‘Another Corona?’ Luke held a bottle up to greet her as she squeezed back behind him and plopped heavily into her seat.
‘Thanks, yeah. It’s not like I’m going to be getting any work done tonight.’
‘So how are you?’ The noise level had climbed again, and he leaned toward her to be heard.
‘A little shaken,’ she confessed, and took a sip of beer. Was this her second or third? ‘But I think it’ll be fine. Suze insisted we get tenants’ insurance, and Chris is going to loan me another computer until I get that all straightened out.’
‘But didn’t you lose a lot of work?’
Mouth full of foam, she shook her head. ‘Nuh-uh.’ She swallowed. No sense explaining that everything she had for her thesis was pure conjecture. At this point, it was going to remain as unfinished as The Ravages of Umbria. ‘I sent everything by email to my old room-mate. Not a very sophisticated backup, but there it is. I guess I should figure out a better system next time around.’
‘You know who you should talk to?’ Dulcie had a sneaking feeling, but Luke didn’t even wait. ‘Stacia! She’s been coming down to the clinic, helping us out. I thought she was going to join us tonight.’ He craned his head around.
‘So that’s—’ Dulcie stopped herself. She wasn’t that drunk. But it all suddenly made sense: Luke’s invitation to dinner – on some other night. She was a buddy or, at best, a safety. She felt vaguely sick. ‘I think I’ve got to go home.’
Dulcie meant to push her chair back, but it fell over with a crash. ‘Sorry, sorry everyone! I’ve just had too big a day. I think I’m gonna book.’
Just then the waitress showed up. ‘Wait a minute.’ She turned. Chris was standing beside her. ‘I’ll get them to wrap our food to go.’
Dulcie opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Too much booze and too little food were what had gotten her into this mess. ‘Thanks, Chris.’ She knew her whisper wasn’t audible.
‘Wait, Dulcie!’ Luke was standing on her other side; he’d already righted her chair. ‘I’m sorry. I feel like I said the wrong thing.’
‘No, no.’ She waved him off, her body swaying. ‘I’m just fried. Here.’ She pulled out her wallet.
‘Put that away.’ Luke pushed her hand down and held it. ‘I’m treating everyone tonight. My way of saying thanks. Otherwise, I’d see you home.’
‘I’ll take care of her.’ Chris had two foil-wrapped packages in his hand and was sliding them both into a paper bag. ‘Come on, Dulcie.’
The walk that had been so refreshing less than an hour before seemed impossible now, but Chris hailed a cab – and woke her when they reached her apartment.
‘Are you going to be OK, Dulce? Do you want me to come in?’
‘No, I’m fine. I really just need to lie down.’
Chris looked at her for a moment, his eyes dark and serious. She realized her own were closing. ‘Well, OK, then,’ he said finally. ‘Here’s your dinner.’ He pulled one of the foil packages out and handed her the bag. ‘Try to eat something. You’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll put together a loaner over the weekend, I promise.’
‘Thanks, Chris.’ She took the food and slid over to the door. Standing was going to be difficult. ‘Thanks for everything.’ She pulled herself to her feet and held on to the cab.
‘You lock yourself in, OK? I won’t take off till I see your kitchen light go on.’
She smiled. Walking up both flights of stairs was going to take all her energy. But by pushing herself off the top of the yellow cab, she was able to navigate her own stoop, the door, and the steps inside. As tempting as the sofa was, she made herself walk over to the kitchen window. Chris was looking up from t
he taxi, his pale face clear in the dark. She waved, and the cab drove off.
Grabbing a fork, Dulcie made her way back to the living room. She managed to get the foil open and was stuffing her mouth with black beans when Suze’s voicemail picked up. ‘Hey, kiddo, it happened again. Well, almost. We’ve had another break-in. Can you believe it? They got my laptop. Oops, sorry!’ Melted cheese draped over the phone. ‘Call me?’
Hanging up, she turned her full attention to the food, which was none the worse for wear. It wasn’t until the burrito was history, the last of its cheese used to pick up a few remaining grains of rice, that Dulcie really began to notice her surroundings. The shag rug looked as good as it ever had, thanks to the cleaning crew’s powerful vacuum cleaner, and she risked walking barefoot into the kitchen for some juice. Powerfully thirsty, she drank directly from the container.
‘If I’m going to live alone for a while, I might as well enjoy it.’ Maybe it was the sound of her words in the silent apartment. Maybe it was the way her temples had begun to throb. Maybe it was that finally, with her appetite sated, she could focus on something other than her belly, but suddenly it hit Dulcie. She looked up at the big living room window, now covered with plywood. Someone had broken in, had been in her space. She turned her back to the defaced window, but that was worse. An intruder had been right behind her; had come right into her home. She could have been here.
‘Get a grip, Dulcie.’ She walked back into the kitchen, flipping on the light in the short hallway and the bathroom, too, as she passed by. ‘If they’d wanted to get you, they could have. Those calls were probably checking to see if you were home.’
But that didn’t make it better, and Dulcie found herself standing with her back against the kitchen stove, her heart now matching the pounding in her head. ‘I’m fine. This is my home. I’m fine.’
A quick fumble through the kitchen drawer revealed a mean-looking carving fork and a dinner knife. With one in each hand, she crept back into the living room and down the front stairs. Yes, the front door was double locked, with the chain on for good measure. Back up in the living room, she pulled at the plywood. It was nailed firm. The kitchen window was open but it was small – and the kitchen was two floors up. Dulcie looked through the screen and sighed. It was too hot to close it and, besides, here she was, armed for steak.
