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Brutality

Page 16

by Ingrid Thoft


  “That’s correct.” He sat back down behind his desk.

  “Can I have one of those?” Fina asked, pointing at a row of bottled waters on a credenza.

  “Be my guest.”

  Fina got up and grabbed one of the bottles. “Do you want one?” she asked Kevin, who shook his head. She sat back down, twisted off the top, and took a long gulp. She could tell that Kevin was losing patience, just as she’d hoped.

  “So how do you explain the fact that Liz Barone came to see you in this very office twice in the last six weeks?” Fina drank some more.

  Kevin’s smile faded, and he rubbed his temple with his hand.

  Fina tipped her head. “Comments? Questions?”

  “What does that have to do with Liz’s situation?”

  Fina screwed the top back on her water. “Her death, you mean. I assume you heard that she died.”

  Kevin sneered. “You have no tact, you know that?”

  “I can be extremely tactful, Kevin, but frankly, you haven’t earned it. This is about to become a murder case, and I suggest you tell me what you and Liz were discussing during your visits.”

  He sighed and looked bored. “We weren’t having an affair. We were discussing the lawsuit.”

  “What about it?”

  “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “Well, obviously it’s not a good idea from your perspective or NEU’s, but why wouldn’t it be a good idea for Liz?”

  “Because there would be a lot of publicity, and she wouldn’t want to expose her family to that.”

  “So you were trying to protect her from the harsh glare of the media? Why? Why did you care what happened to her?”

  “We were old friends. I didn’t want to see her put through the wringer.”

  “So your attempts to dissuade her had nothing to do with the potential fallout for the athletic program if the suit went forward?” Fina asked.

  “Of course I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of a messy lawsuit,” he said, “but I was concerned for Liz.”

  “You were right to be concerned for her.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, you were worried about her well-being, and she ended up in a coma.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Fina clarified.

  “It’s what you implied.”

  Fina had some more water. She considered asking Kevin point-blank if he was the mysterious note writer, but there was nothing to be gained from that line of questioning. He wouldn’t tell her if he was, and she didn’t want to clue him in if he wasn’t. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

  “I have nothing to tell you, and I have a meeting.” Kevin stood and walked over to the door where his suit coat was on a hanger. “I really wish I could help, but I can’t.”

  “All righty then. Give me a call if anything else comes to mind.” Fina got up and slipped the water bottle into her bag. “Just to satisfy my curiosity, where were you on the night that Liz was attacked?”

  Kevin smirked. “I was at the annual Medical Society benefit dinner at the Westin. You can check with one of the hundreds of other people who were there.”

  Kevin pulled on his coat and waited for Fina to exit the office before him.

  “Colin,” Kevin said, closing his office door. “Would you please see Ms. Ludlow out? To the lobby downstairs?”

  “I can find my own way,” Fina assured them, smiling. “I’m good at finding things.” She walked back to the elevators.

  She hadn’t learned much, but she was definitely going to keep an eye on him.

  —

  Fina parked her car in the garage close to the Schaefer Lab and locked her gun away in the trunk. She entered the lobby, pleased to see Louis at his usual post.

  “Good morning,” Fina said. The security guard looked up at her, expressionless. “Louis,” she said, holding up her hand as if to quell his excitement. “Stop being so emotional. I know you’ve missed me.”

  “What do you want today?” he asked.

  “I need to see Dr. Mehra again.” She propped her elbows on the desk. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I think the good doctor has been lying to me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I need to speak with Dana, also. Maybe you could see if she’s available first?” Fina did need to speak with Dana, but she also knew Dana provided access to Vikram, which would come in handy if he’d already tired of their relationship.

  “When did I become your social secretary?” Louis mumbled under his breath, picking up the phone.

  Fina pulled off her gloves and scarf and tucked them into her bag while he had a brief conversation.

  “Dana says wait at her desk. She’s finishing something up in the lab. ID, please.”

  Fina handed over her credentials. He typed something into the computer, and then a visitor’s pass was spit out by a printer underneath the desk.

  “You know where you’re going?” he asked.

  “Indeed. I will see you soon.” Fina affixed the pass to her jacket and headed toward the metal detector.

  She took the elevator to the eighth floor and found her way back to the area where Dana had been sitting during her last visit. She was pleased to find the area empty; she wanted to give things a whirl with Vikram before she moved on to his support staff.

  Vikram was seated in the same position, his back to the door, facing his computer screen. Fina knocked on the door and entered the room.

  “Dr. Mehra?” she said, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk.

  “Yes?” He turned.

  “We spoke on Thursday. I’m Fina Ludlow, the private investigator looking into the attack on Liz Barone.”

  “Miss, I have no more to say to you than I did in our last conversation.”

  “That’s fine. I have more to say to you. Do you think Liz is the reason your lab wasn’t awarded the grant from the pharmaceutical consortium?”

  Vikram glared at her.

  “Rumor has it that someone in the lab was to blame,” she said, “and you had a conflict with Liz. I wondered if the grant was the source of that conflict.”

  “I’m not going to discuss this with you,” Vikram said, studying some papers on his desk.

  “That’s your choice, but just because you choose not to discuss it doesn’t mean I won’t find out.”

  “To what end?” His voice got louder. “What does any of this have to do with your investigation?”

  “Perhaps you haven’t heard, but Liz died Saturday night, so my investigation has turned into a murder investigation. You had a problem with her, which makes you a suspect.”

  “You are wasting my time.”

  “Where were you the night she was attacked?”

  “That is none of your business. Leave or I will call security.”

  “Actually, I wouldn’t mind being hauled away by Louis,” Fina said. “I’ve grown quite fond of him.”

  Vikram pointed at the door. “Out.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” Fina promised, walking into the hallway.

  “If you come back, I will call the police!” Vikram hollered after her.

  Fina strode over to the grouping of desks where Dana was now seated.

  “Does he always yell at people like that?” Fina asked.

  “Yes. It’s charming, don’t you think?”

  “I’m investigating the attack on Liz Barone. Is there any way I could interest you in a cup of coffee?”

  Dana glanced at her watch. “I can sneak out in twenty minutes,” she said quietly, “if you don’t mind waiting.”

  “I’m happy to wait. The place around the corner?”

  Dana nodded.

  Fina made he
rself scarce when Vikram started bellowing about something else.

  Downstairs, she peeled off her visitor’s sticker and stopped at Louis’s desk.

  “I spoke with Dr. Mehra, and Dana’s going to meet me for coffee in a few. I think this will turn out to be a productive visit, and—bonus—I got to see you again, Louis.”

  “It’s been a thrill for me, too,” he said, not even looking up from his computer screen.

  “See you soon,” she said, pulling on her scarf and gloves.

  “I sincerely hope not,” he replied as Fina pushed open the exit and stepped out into the freezing conditions.

  She jogged toward the coffee shop, but slowed her pace when a familiar-looking sedan pulled away from the curb. It looked like the one in the lot a few days earlier, so Fina stopped and turned toward the car. If the driver was interested in doing her harm, he would have done it already, which was why she started walking toward the car at a brisk pace. The car peeled away at her approach, and Fina knew it wasn’t a coincidence. She didn’t like being followed or receiving anonymous notes, but if she wanted tranquility, she should have been an actuary. She’d have to be more alert, since someone definitely had a beef with her.

  Inside the café, she ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream. There were a couple of free seats near a gas fireplace, which she claimed with her butt and her belongings. Checking her e-mail kept her busy until the door opened and Dana arrived. She was wearing a heavy parka, her lab coat peeking out from underneath. She waved to Fina and ordered a drink before having a seat.

  The young woman pulled off her parka and stuffed it down into the crevices of her chair. She straightened the lab coat. “I’m not trying to be pretentious by wearing this, but if I leave it behind, he knows I’ve left the building, which raises all kinds of questions.”

  “I’m Fina, by the way,” Fina said, shaking Dana’s hand. She offered her PI license for inspection.

  “Dana Tompkins. I’m a postdoc in the lab.”

  A barista brought over Dana’s coffee. She took a small sip of the steaming liquid, leaving a faint lipstick print on the rim of the cup. She looked like she’d been summoned from central casting to play an Irish lass, given the smattering of freckles across her nose, delicate features, and strawberry blond hair. Fina imagined she was in her late twenties, but the older Fina got, the more difficulty she had guessing other people’s ages.

  “Liz Barone’s mother and husband hired me to find out who hurt her,” Fina said. “I don’t know how often you read the paper or check the news, but Liz died Saturday night.”

  “I know.” Dana looked at the floor. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Because you have some information that might be helpful?” Fina spooned up some whipped cream.

  “Because Vikram was pissed at her,” Dana said.

  “Why was he pissed at her?”

  “Look.” Dana placed her mug on a side table. “I really liked Liz a lot, and I certainly don’t want to disparage her in any way.”

  “I will treat whatever you tell me with sensitivity,” Fina assured her.

  “Vikram blamed her for the lab losing out on a grant. She had screwed some stuff up lately, but I don’t think she should be blamed for the grant fiasco.”

  “Was it her fault?”

  Dana picked up her mug again and took a sip. “I don’t know. I’m not privy to all the details, but it seemed like she was forgetting stuff and letting things slide. Was it enough to torpedo the grant application? Vikram seemed to think so.”

  “Why didn’t he fire her?” Fina asked.

  “I think he would have, given the chance, but she had some leverage: I overheard him threaten her.”

  “What do you mean exactly?” Fina drank some hot chocolate. It was thick and creamy. Why did anyone drink coffee when this was an option?

  “The day we found out about the grant, Vikram had a complete hissy fit. He was angry with all of us—nothing is ever his fault, of course—but later that day, he chewed Liz out in his office.”

  “You heard what he said?”

  “How could I not? You’ve heard him. He’s not familiar with the concept of discretion.”

  “So he chewed her out about the grant application?”

  Dana nodded. “Yes. He said it was her fault the lab didn’t get the funding, and she wouldn’t get away with it. He said she would pay.”

  “Those are the exact words he used?”

  “Yup.”

  “Did you interpret that as a threat of physical violence?”

  “I didn’t interpret it as anything,” Dana said. “You don’t want to get on his bad side, though. I’ve heard stories about how he’s made life miserable for people who cross him.”

  “Have you ever known him to be violent?”

  “I’ve seen him smash test tubes when he was angry, but I’ve never seen him hurt another person,” she conceded.

  “So why do you still work for him if he’s such an ogre?”

  Dana grasped her cup tightly. “Because there aren’t a lot of labs doing this kind of work. I was lucky to get this spot.”

  “I understand,” Fina said. “Anything else about Liz or Vikram that was unusual or noteworthy?”

  Dana shook her head. “No, but if you ask around, you’ll hear how much people dislike him.”

  Fina looked at the gas fireplace. It was attractive, but gave off little heat. “What happens to the lab without that grant?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to scramble for other funding. We may have to let some lab techs go.”

  “The university can’t make up the difference?”

  Dana frowned. “We’re not usually at the top of their list. Have you been by the new student center recently or the sports complex? It’s pretty clear what NEU’s priorities are.”

  “And what about the lawsuit that Liz was pursuing? Do you know anything about that?”

  “Just what I’ve read in the paper. Professionally, it’s not good if the university has to make a big payout, but personally? I thought it was great. They should be held accountable.”

  Fina reached into her bag and pulled out a card. “Will you contact me if you think of anything else?”

  “Sure.” Dana slipped the card into the pocket of her lab coat.

  “Also, if you feel unsafe or threatened in any way by Vikram, let me know. I can help you with that.”

  Dana smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  They brought their mugs over to the counter and pulled their jackets on. Dana headed back toward the lab, and Fina put her head down and picked her way around the snowbanks to return to the garage.

  Fina had learned early in her career to take information with a grain of salt, particularly when that information was damning. However, having seen Vikram in action, she wouldn’t underestimate what he was capable of doing.

  13.

  Haley had left a message on her voice mail. Fina dialed her niece’s number while still parked in the garage.

  “Hey,” Haley answered.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Are you busy? You wanted to do something, right?” Haley asked.

  “I would like to do something. I take it this is a good time for you?” Ah, to be a teenager, the sun in a universe where everyone else orbited you.

  “Yeah, but I’m not home.” Fina was glad to hear her referring to Scotty and Patty’s house as “home.” She seemed to be adjusting well to her new living arrangement.

  “Okay. Where are you?”

  “At Pap and Gammy’s.”

  “What are you doing there?” she asked Haley.

  “Gammy took me shopping. Can you pick me up?”

  “Are you calling me because you want to spend some time together or because you need a ride?”

  “Because you’r
e one of my favorite aunts,” Haley said.

  “The other being Aunt Patty?”

  “Well, you’re in good company.”

  “Fine. Give me half an hour.”

  Unless Fina was truly unavailable, she wouldn’t turn down a request from Haley that promised some interaction. Fina was happy to err on the side of being solicitous if it gave her niece a sense of security. Her mother’s death, the fact that her father had sexually abused her, and the revelation of the abuse seemed like enough trauma for one lifetime, let alone fifteen years on the planet. It was having to see Elaine that gave Fina pause.

  She pulled up to her parents’ multimillion-dollar eyesore, hopeful that Haley would be waiting by the door, but no such luck. Fina parked and entered the house through the side entrance, still hopeful that she might be in and out like a cat burglar.

  The maid was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, a telenovela on the TV nearby. Fina smiled and asked for Haley.

  “Señorita Haley está en la sala de familia,” she said, gesturing toward the hallway.

  Fina wanted to tell her that her days were numbered in the Ludlow house unless she buried her native tongue like a corpse. Elaine wanted to pay people like they were immigrants, desperate for a paycheck, but she didn’t want to catch any trace of foreignness.

  “Gracias,” Fina said, and left the kitchen.

  She wound her way to the family room, where she found Haley and Elaine sitting on a couch, looking at the latest issue of People magazine. They were studying a photo of an up-and-coming starlet.

  “She’s got a bit of a tummy,” Elaine said.

  Fina leaned over the couch and examined the picture. “Mom, that girl has about ten percent body fat.”

  “I didn’t know you were here, Fina.”

  “I am. You don’t seriously think she’s fat, do you?”

  Haley pretended she wasn’t interested in the conversation, but Fina knew better.

  “I think she could tone up a bit,” Elaine said.

  The suggestion was absurd under any circumstances, but particularly from a woman who was easily twenty-five pounds overweight.

  “Don’t listen to her, Haley. If anything”—Fina gestured at the photo—“she should gain weight. You all set?”

 

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