I went on to the next room.
Aside from a couple of magazines lying in one corner and a stack of newspapers lying in the other, it was empty too. I went over and picked up the magazines. They were both high-end travel magazines. As I put them back down, I began feeling as if I’d wandered onto the stage set of a play in progress, only I didn’t know which play it was. I shook my head to dispel the image and went on to the next room. At least here there was furniture. A twin bed sat in one corner. A small dresser stood along the opposite wall. The sight heartened me, because it meant the owner hadn’t moved out yet. Tomorrow I’d call the realtor, tell her I was interested, and try and get a name. I opened the drawers. They were empty, of course.
I turned my attention to the desk by the closet. The middle drawer contained pens, pencils, and envelopes. I closed it and opened the two drawers on either side. Nothing. No address book. No bank statements. No credit card receipts. Did whoever live here exist? Were they real? I was beginning to get the feeling they weren’t. I tried the closet next. Except for a dozen or so wire coat hangers, it was empty. They jangled as I stepped inside. An old cloth Starter jacket was hanging, forlorn and forgotten, by the far wall.
For form’s sake, I took it out and went through the pockets. I found five pennies, a stick of gum, and a couple of old, discolored aspirin tablets that were beginning to dissolve around the edges. I was putting the jacket back when I heard a jingle. Okay. There was something else inside. I took the jacket out into the hall where there was more light and turned the pockets inside out. There was a hole in the left one. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have bothered, but I was in a perverse mood, so I worked my fingers through it and into the lining. I fished out a couple of quarters, a dime, and a crumpled up piece of heavy paper.
I put the jacket back where I’d found it, went back to the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the light. Then I smoothed the paper out. Once it had been white, now it was stained and grimy. The bottom half was ripped off, but it was still possible to make out the type on the card’s upper half.
It contained three words. Syracuse Casket Company.
Chapter 23
I kept glancing at the card I’d found as I drove across town to the store. It was suggestive, all right, but of what? That was the question. I wouldn’t know until I talked to the Starter jacket’s owner, and I couldn’t do that until I talked to the realtor tomorrow. Maybe I was finally on to something. God only knows, it was about time for my luck to change. I stopped at Noah’s Ark, picked up Zsa Zsa, who let me know she didn’t appreciate being left alone by peeing on the floor, and headed for home.
James came out to greet me when I opened the door of my house. He and Zsa Zsa did their little dance, while I thumbed through the day’s mail. Even though the lights were on, the house was quiet. I noticed the note I’d taped to the mirror wasn’t there. I called for Manuel, but he didn’t answer. He’d come and gone. The anger I’d been holding in check since last night welled up again. When I walked into the living room, I noticed a crumpled up MacDonald’s bag and a half-full cup of soda sitting on the coffee table. My note was lying beside it. I picked it up. Sorry, Manuel had scrawled on the bottom of the page. I know you must be pissed. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. p.s. I bought James some cat food. Salmon. He really loves it.
I crumpled up the note and threw it back down. At least he’d had the decency to write something. I’d be really interested to hear what he had to say. I poured myself a Scotch and headed up the stairs. The door to Manuel’s room was open. I looked in. The bedcovers were rumpled. He must have come in, gone to sleep, and left again. I shook my head. The longer he stayed with me, the more I sympathized with his stepfather.
I went into my room, set my glass on the night table, shucked off my clothes, and crawled into bed. Then I tossed down my shot, turned off the light, and closed my eyes. But sleep wouldn’t come. I lay awake watching the cedar branches tossing in the wind and listening to Zsa Zsa making little whimpering noises in her sleep and wondering where the hell Manuel was and who had been eating pizza in my house. And then I started thinking about Toon Town and Amy and trying to figure out what a card from the Syracuse Casket Company was doing in the Starter jacket’s pocket and worrying about the leak in my roof. At some point I must have drifted off though, because the next thing I knew, I heard my alarm ringing.
When I went off to work, Manuel still hadn’t returned. Not that I was surprised. I really hadn’t expected him to. The clarity of the sky dazzled me when I stepped outside. Its blue washed over me and I found myself smiling, as I noticed a cardinal perched on a branch of the Japanese maple across the street. As I walked to the car, I realized the air smelled of burning leaves, the way it had when I was younger. A little way down the block, two of my neighbors were standing on the sidewalk drinking coffee and watching their children play. I would have liked to have joined them, but I had too much to do, so I waved and drove by. On the way to the store, I phoned the Happy House Realty Company from the car, but none of the brokers were in, so I told the secretary which property I was interested in and asked to have an agent call me back. Around eleven thirty one did.
Monica Selles started right in with her pitch. “It’s a really good buy,” she said. Her voice was just a hair’s breath away from being chirpy. “It’s got new carpeting, a new deck, and the upstairs bathroom was redone last year. The owner is very anxious to sell.”
“It appears empty. Has the owner moved out?”
“Actually, he’s been renting it for the past year.”
I shifted into concerned prospective buyer. “Oh. To whom? Not students I hope. They always make such an incredible mess.”
“Oh, I agree. No. These were working people.”
“Really? Where did they work?”
“I’m not sure. Would you like to see the house?”
I didn’t, since I already had, but if I wanted any more information, I would have to. I made an appointment to meet her at the house at two o’clock and got back to work.
Tim was not pleased when I told him I was running out for an hour. He was tired of holding things down on his own, he told me. I mollified him by promising to pick up some KFC on the way back.
Monica Silles was waiting for me when I got to the house. She was a well-dressed woman somewhere in her forties who looked as if she did this for pin money. A doctor’s wife, maybe. Someone who wanted something to do, but nothing too strenuous.
“Let’s go inside,” she suggested, brightly.
“So what’s the story with the owner?” I asked, as she put the key in the lock box. “How anxious are they to sell?”
“It’s a corporation, really.”
I almost groaned. That meant I’d have to pay a visit to the County Clerk’s Office to see who the corporation’s officers were—unless, of course, Silles knew. I asked. She didn’t.
“A corporation owning a home. That’s unusual,” I said still fishing around.
Monica Silles shrugged. “I’ve seen it done before. People do it for tax purposes, or when they’re trying to limit their liability.” She stepped inside, and I followed.
In the light, the house looked bland and boring.
Monica Silles gestured around. “As you can see the place is in move-in shape. Just get some curtains on those windows and you’ll be ready to go.”
I nodded. “What’s the name of the corporation?”
The realtor consulted the file she was holding. “Maxwell.”
I hadn’t heard of it, but then there was no reason I should have.
Silles took me into the kitchen. “The asking price is $65,000.”
That is one thing about living in a depressed area. Real estate prices are low. You can get a really nice house in Syracuse for not much money. Of course, if you have to sell and go someplace else, you’re in trouble.
I opened and closed cabinet doors and turned the water tap in the sink on and off. If you’re going to pretend, go all the way. “That’s
a bit high for this neighborhood, don’t you think?”
Silles pursed her lips. “I might be able to get them to come down a little.”
We climbed the stairs and went through the three bedrooms.
A chill worked its way up my back when I opened the door to the closet in the third bedroom.
The jacket was gone.
Someone had been here since last night.
I wondered who.
I turned back to Monica Silles, who was chatting on about the benefits of this particular house. “Now, let’s suppose I wanted to buy this place for an investment,” I said.
Silles stopped talking. She cocked her head slightly to the side and waited to hear what I had to say.
“Would you handle the rentals, as you did for the Maxwell Company?”
“We don’t do that sort of thing.” Silles frowned, to show she thought her company should. “Maxwell handled the rentals themselves.”
“I see.” I studied the view out the window. Two squirrels were chasing each other up and down the branches of a maple tree. “Perhaps I could speak to someone at Maxwell to see what their rental experience was like. You know, kind of get a feel for the thing.”
Monica Silles looked doubtful, but she put on a game smile. Anything for a sale, I guess. “I can call and ask.”
“What are they like?”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I’ve never dealt with them.”
It looked as if I’d gotten as much out of Silles as I was going to. We walked down the stairs together. I looked at my watch. It was a little before three. I still had time to make it down to the County Clerk’s Office. I told Silles I’d get back to her with my decision. She pressed her card into my hand and warned me not to wait too long. I told her I wouldn’t and took off.
Parking around the County Courthouse was impossible—as per usual—and after circling three or four times, I pulled up in front of a fire hydrant and went inside. It took about half an hour to locate the information I’d come to find.
I stared down at the photocopy the clerk had handed me.
Brad and Dennis Richmond were listed as the president and vice president of The Maxwell Corporation.
Somehow I wasn’t surprised.
Whichever way I turned, I seemed to bump up against the Richmond family.
Chapter 24
I absent mindedly folded up the pages I’d been given and stuffed them in my backpack, as I walked out the door. I clicked my tongue against my teeth while I thought.
So Amy had been staying in a place that the Richmond family owned.
Interesting.
I wondered if Brad Richmond knew about it.
Then I wondered if the Starter jacket was his. But I didn’t think so. Try as I might, I couldn’t picture him wearing it.
I checked my watch again. It was almost four. Maybe Brad Richmond was back in his office. I used one of the pay phones on the first floor of the courthouse to dial the factory and find out. According to the receptionist, he was in.
“Shall I connect you?” she asked.
I told her I’d changed my mind, I’d call again tomorrow, and hung up. I needed to speak to Richmond in person. Talking over the phone just wasn’t going to do it. Then, before I realized what I was doing, I reached into my bag, got out my cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled. Last one for the day, I promised myself, and headed for the door.
It had gotten darker out since I’d been inside. And gustier. I buttoned my jacket and turned up my collar, but the wind still found a way in. It tugged at my hair and whispered in my ears as I hurried to the cab. While I unlocked the door, I noticed clouds were building up in the west. We were in for another storm. I drove quickly, weaving through the increasing late afternoon traffic. The cars had their lights on. Everyone was driving fast, anxious to get home after a day at work. The sky was banded with streaks of pale pink, light grey, charcoal, and black. Road, median, grass, and trees all looked smudged in the dusk.
Because of the traffic, it took me almost half an hour to get to the plant. I spent the time thinking of what I was going to say to Richmond, wondering what he was going to say to me, and smoking another cigarette. I was about to light a third one, but I tossed it and the pack out the window instead. Then I was sorry I’d done it, but it was too late. Even I realized it would be suicidal to try and retrieve them.
When I got to the lot, I parked in one of the spaces set aside for visitors and entered the building. The receptionist wasn’t at her station, which was fine with me, because I didn’t want to be announced. I just opened the door to the offices and went inside. As I walked down the corridor, I caught sight of her chatting with a coworker. I’m sure she would have stopped me if she’d seen me, but her head was half-turned and she was deep into her conversation. I nodded at the people I passed and they nodded back at me. No one asked me what I was doing there.
Luck was with me, because Elizabeth Walker wasn’t at her desk either. She was probably getting ready to go home. I could see Brad Richmond from where I was standing. He was sitting at his desk. His head was bent. He was reading a computer printout and making notes on a yellow legal pad he had in front of him. His head shot up when I said hello.
“How did you get in without being announced?” he demanded. He looked annoyed at being interrupted, or perhaps he was just angry at being made to look foolish.
“I walked in. No one was at the front desk.” I pulled over the leather chair from the side of the room and sat down.
That annoyed him even more. He placed his hands on the edge of his desk and pushed himself back. “Exactly what is it you want? Because I’m busy. I have things to do before I leave.” He gestured at the papers on his desk.
“I just want to ask you about the house.”
He did puzzled. “My house?”
“The one on Easton Avenue. The one that’s held by The Maxwell Corporation.”
“Oh that.” He gave a small, little laugh. “We own a fair number of properties.” He put his pen down. He tried looking bored, but he wasn’t succeeding very well. “What about it?”
“I was driving by and I noticed it was for sale. I was thinking of buying it.”
“Really?” Richmond raised an eyebrow to convey his disbelief.
“Yes, really. The realtor told me you had rented the place. I wanted to know how the arrangement worked out.”
Richmond rolled his pen between the palms of his hands. “I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask Gerri. She’s the one that handles the rentals.”
Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t think she had anything to do with the company.”
“Just this. It was Dennis’s decision. Gave her something to do besides shopping.” Richmond put his pen down. “Of course now that we’re selling the properties, she’s going to be out of a job.” He gave a grim little smile of satisfaction.
“May I ask why you’re selling?”
“I never liked the idea of diversifying in the first place. And since Dennis is no longer here, I’m going to put the money back where it belongs—in the business.”
“Doesn’t Gerri Richmond have a say?”
Brad’s smile grew broader. “Not when it comes to something like this. Now, if that’s all. I really have to catch someone before they leave for the day.”
I thanked him for his time and got up to go. I was at the door when I turned around. “One last question.”
“Yes?” he growled.
“Did you know that Amy was staying there?”
He opened his eyes a little wider. “Was she, now?”
“Yes.”
“Imagine that.” He shook his head in amazement.
I couldn’t tell if he was lying about not knowing or not.
On the way out, I spotted Elizabeth Walker and Charlie Richmond talking together. Elizabeth seemed to be fascinated with what Charlie Richmond had to say, and I couldn’t help thinking, as I watched her, that she was going to go far in life. She definitely had the abilit
y to say one thing and do another. He made another comment and she laughed and strolled away. She was almost at the corridor when she saw me. She did a double take and came over.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, obviously surprised to see me.
“I just dropped in to have a little chat with your boss.”
A worried expression crossed her face. “You didn’t have an appointment, did you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Because I didn’t think you were marked down in the book.”
“I wasn’t,” I assured her. “I just took a chance and walked in.”
She sighed in relief and placed a hand across her chest. “Good, because Mr. Richmond would really be upset if I’d forgotten to let him know.”
“So what did Charlie have to say?”
Elizabeth flushed and began to fidget. “He wants me to go out with him. It’s tough,” she continued, when I didn’t say anything. “I can’t be rude to him, but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“From where I was standing, it looked as if you were enjoying yourself.”
Elizabeth’s mouth crumpled. “He gets really mad if I act like I’m not interested in what he has to say. It’s really hard. Usually I try and stay away from him. But once in awhile, he catches me.” She gave a fatalistic shrug.
“Have you talked to anyone?”
“I don’t want to make trouble. It’s not like he has his hands all over me or anything like that.”
“Maybe you should talk to your boss. I have a feeling he might like to do something about the situation.”
“Thanks.” She leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks a lot.” She walked away, and I continued down the hallway. The office staff eddied and flowed around me. They were putting on their coats and chatting with each other as they got ready to go home. As I drove out of the lot, I called Gerri Richmond. I wanted to let her know about Amy staying at the house on Easton, but no one was home. I left a message on the machine and headed off to KFC.
The Scent of Murder Page 17
