by B R Snow
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” she said. “And Naylor had to move out until we’re done with the place. Okay, I guess that could work.”
“Good, I’d like to take a look from Naylor’s windows and get a better feel for exactly what he might be able to see with the right equipment.”
“You’d like to do that?” Shirley said, her voice rising a notch.
“I meant us,” I said, embarrassed.
“Of course you did,” she said, laughing. “Okay, we’ll meet you downstairs in about twenty minutes.”
“How hard would it be to get your hands on the list of residents who live here?” I said.
“I’m way ahead of you,” Shirley said. “I’ve already asked my guru to get a copy.”
“Great minds think alike, Detective Billet.”
“Oh, let’s hope not. I’ve seen your brain in action.”
“Funny.”
“We’ll see you in a bit,” she said. “Try to stay out of trouble until we get there.”
“Sure, sure,” I said, ending the call.
I glanced around Victor’s loft and wondered how good a look at the place I could manage over the next fifteen minutes. But first I’d need a good excuse to be snooping around. I walked back to the living room where Abby and Victor were still in the middle of their numbers discussion. I stood next to them and listened for a few moments.
“You guys don’t need me for this conversation do you?” I said, glancing back and forth at them.
“No, not really,” Abby said, looking up. “I know this isn’t your favorite part of the business.”
“You got that right,” I said. “I’m going to meet my friend for coffee in about twenty minutes.”
“That’s great,” Abby said. “Is she excited about moving here?”
“Huh?” I said, startled by the question. “Oh, yeah. She can’t wait. Say, Victor, I’ve got a few minutes to kill. Would you mind if I wandered around and took a look at all your artwork? It looks amazing.”
“Not at all,” he said, focusing on the document again. “Knock yourself out.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll give you a call later on, Abby. And don’t let him try to start renegotiating the deal,” I said, laughing.
“Where’s the trust?” Victor said, glancing up at me with a grin.
It was a question I hoped wouldn’t raise its ugly head over the coming days.
I took a cursory look at the artwork in the main living area, then slowly worked my way toward Victor’s office. Over the next fifteen minutes, I saw lots of cool paintings and sculptures but didn’t find a trace of my phone.
Chapter 9
By the time I left Victor’s loft and reached the elevator, my neurons were on overload. I had hoped that my Snoopmeter might be willing to take an extended break now that I had Max to occupy a large chunk of my free-thinking time. But, apparently, I was wrong. And instead of envisioning the two of us taking the boat out for a relaxing day on the River or walking hand in hand through the soft sand in Cayman, I was zeroed in on the possibility that our dog toy distributor might have just tried to kill the guy who would be handling the majority of our marketing efforts. That couldn’t be good news for Wags.
And from a mental perspective, it certainly wasn’t doing me much good either.
The elevator reached the lobby, and I stepped out and almost ran into a large cardboard poster that was sitting on a stand just outside the elevator. I took a second to read it and learned that the building’s annual Christmas party for the residents was scheduled for tomorrow night. Apart from thinking that the third week in November seemed early for a Christmas party, I didn’t give it much thought, and I headed for the lobby and stared out the large floor to ceiling window behind the security desk.
“Can I help you?” the security guard said, giving me a once-over look that was a combination of I don’t know you, and I don’t think you belong here.
“No, thanks,” I said, giving him a big smile. “I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Where’s the other woman you arrived with?” he said, glancing around the lobby.
“She’s still up on five,” I said.
“Right. Mr. Rollins,” he said, studying his computer screen then tapping the keyboard.
“You keep a close eye on things around here,” I said, deciding to toss a line in the water and see if I got any nibbles.
“The people who live here take security very seriously,” he said, sitting up straight and throwing his shoulders back.
“And their privacy as well I would imagine,” I said, placing my elbows on top of the counter and leaning forward.
“Of course,” he said, nodding.
“Well, you’re obviously doing a very good job,” I said.
“Thanks for noticing. Who are you waiting for?” he said, his fingers poised on the keyboard.
“Oh, just a couple of my detective friends,” I said casually.
“Detectives? Are you working a case with them?”
“Not yet,” I whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “No, we’re just meeting for coffee.”
“I’d kill to be a detective,” the security guard said.
“Oh, let’s hope not,” I said, flashing him my best smile. “I couldn’t help but notice the sign when I came out of the elevator.”
“Yeah, it’s not where I would have put the thing,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve already knocked it over twice this morning. But they wanted it somewhere where everybody was sure to see it.”
“Isn’t it a little early in the season for a Christmas party?” I said, recasting my line.
“Yeah, I suppose it is. But the residents made the decision a couple of years ago to move it up before everyone’s schedules got booked. Most of the people who live here have a ton of responsibilities to deal with during the holidays, and since their Christmas party is always such a hit, nobody wants to miss it.”
“The party is just for the residents?” I said, my eyes following a couple staff members carrying boxes of decorations to the far end of the main floor.
“Residents and their guests,” he said, nodding. “I worked it last year. Guess who I met at the party.”
“I’m gonna go with a famous Canadian,” I said, laughing.
“Well, that’s not much of a stretch,” he said, grinning. “The whole party is filled with famous Canadians.”
“Okay,” I said, deciding to play along. “Hockey player?”
“Nope,” the security guard said, cocking his head. “The Prime Minister.”
“Really? That’s impressive,” I said, nodding. “What’s he like?”
“He seems nice, but we didn’t get much of a chance to chat,” the security guard said, deflated. “As soon as I told him I didn’t vote for him, he sort of wandered off.”
“Politicians, huh?”
“Yeah. No sense of humor, right?” the guard said, then leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “I hear that Paradis is coming to the party.”
“The supermodel?” I said, surprised.
“That’s the one,” he said, grinning. “She’s a good friend of Claudine Gilbert.”
“She’s a model, too, right?” I said, trying to recall some of the ads I’d seen her in.
“Yup,” he said. “She lives in the building.”
My neurons flared again, and I did my best to remain casual.
“Really? Well, knowing her reputation for living the high-life, she must have one of the lofts on the top floor. You know, she seems like someone who would need to have the best view possible.”
It wasn’t my best fishing expedition question, but it didn’t seem to bother the guard, and he shook his head.
“Actually, Claudine’s isn’t anything like her reputation. She’s very nice,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Almost shy. Her place is on four, right below Mr. Rollins.”
“Interesting,” I said, staring out the window.
“Yeah, I guess you never know what somebody is really like until you meet them. Rule number one, right? Never believe what you read in the papers.”
“That’s good advice,” I said, noticing Shirley’s vehicle come to a stop across the street. “There they are.” I tossed my bag over my shoulder and smiled at the security guard. “It was nice talking to you. I hope you get a chance to meet Paradis.”
“How cool would that be?” he said.
“Way cool?”
“Exactly. Way cool.”
I waved goodbye then headed outside and was greeted by the cold and wind that was producing mini-whirlwinds of swirling snow. I turned my collar up and fought the stiff breeze as I waited for the crosswalk signal to change. Bill and Shirley slowly worked their way across the street through the traffic, and we met on the corner.
“Hey,” I said, bouncing on my feet for warmth.
“How about we skip the greetings and get inside?” Shirley said, her shoulders hunched.
I followed them into the Wilkerson then lowered my collar and unzipped my coat.
“Nasty,” I said, stamping snow off my feet.
“Yeah,” Shirley said, doing the same. “I hope it warms up and melts. It’s way too early for this much snow.”
Bill shook his head at our complaints then headed to the security desk. Moments later, he returned and pointed at the elevator. We followed him and rode to the fifth floor in silence. Bill slid a keycard into the lock, and the door clicked open. All three of us ducked under the yellow tape designating the loft as a crime scene then walked inside.
“Nobody’s here?” I said, glancing around the loft that appeared identical to the way it had been yesterday.
“No, the techs will be back later today,” Bill said, taking the large space in with a long sweeping stare.
“Did they identify the powder yet?” I said, removing my coat and hanging it on a hook.
“No, the lab is still working on it,” Bill said. “Deadly and fast-acting baby powder is all we have at the moment.”
I headed for the wall of windows and stared out at Rollin’s building that was directly across the street. I felt Shirley and Bill’s presence right behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder at them.
“How far do you think it is between the two buildings?” I said.
“It can’t be more than a hundred feet,” Shirley said.
“Nothing that a good zoom lens couldn’t handle, right?” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Bill said. “We had the same thought last night.”
“That instead of chasing people down at clubs, Naylor has started doing some work right here at home?”
“Yeah,” Shirley said. “All Naylor would need to do is close the blinds and wait.”
“Were you able to get a list of all the residents?” I said.
“We were,” she said, handing me a single sheet of paper.
“This is great,” I said, studying the page and recognizing several names. “Wow, talk about your heavy hitters. This is quite a list.”
“It certainly is,” Shirley said. “And they all share some interesting characteristics.”
“Money and power,” I said, nodding.
“They obviously all have the same address,” Bill said, pointing at the document. “Except for the designation next to the street name. That must be the loft identifier.”
“It is,” I said, remembering the 5W I’d seen on Rollin’s door. I glanced out the window and frowned. “Which way is North?”
Bill glanced out the window then pointed at about a forty-five-degree angle. I followed his finger then nodded.
“You got anything to write with?” I said, glancing around.
“I’ve got my pen and notepad,” Shirley said.
“I need a bigger piece of paper,” I said.
“I think I saw some in his office yesterday,” Bill said, heading off. Moments later, he returned carrying a small stack of blank paper.
I accepted the paper and a pen from him and sat down in a chair in front of a coffee table. I sketched out a mockup of the building across the street that consisted of ten horizontal rectangles divided in half.
“Okay,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “If we assume that Naylor was surreptitiously trying to film what was going on across the street, we can eliminate half the lofts since they’re on the other side of the building.”
I drew an arrow pointing North on the paper then checked the resident’s list.
“Victor Rollin’s loft is 5W. Fifth floor West.”
“I see where you’re going,” Shirley said, nodding. “All we’ll need to do is check the list and add the name of the resident to the right box on your drawing.”
“It’s a start, right?” I said, shrugging as I entered Victor’s name in the box I’d labeled 5W.
“It’s a great start,” Bill said, sitting down next to me and grabbing the resident list.
“Do you see Claudine Gilbert’s name on there?” I said. “The security guard said she lives right below Victor.”
“The model?” Bill said, scanning the list. “Yup. There she is. 4W.”
I jotted down her name on the diagram. We quickly filled all twenty boxes on my sketch, and all three of us studied it in silence. Eventually, I got up and stared out the windows. Shirley approached holding the piece of paper. She spent a few minutes studying the sketch then stared at the building across the street.
“Naylor would only be able to snoop on some of the lofts,” Shirley said.
“Yeah, the fourth, fifth, and sixth floors,” I said, nodding. “The line of sight just doesn’t work for any of the other floors.”
“You’re right. The angle is too sharp on the others,” Shirley said, nodding. “All you might be able to see would be heads and feet.”
“Let me take a look,” Bill said, joining us at the windows. Then he nodded. “Yeah, good call. But his view into the lofts on four through six is excellent.”
“It is,” I said. “And with a zoom lens, I bet Naylor would be able to get very up close and personal.”
“He certainly would,” Bill said, studying the list of residents. “So, that leaves those six lofts as our best guess at the moment.”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing at my sketch.
“Okay,” Bill said, studying the resident’s list. “Let’s see who we’re talking about. You’ve got George Theo in 6W, right?”
“I do,” I said. “Who’s George Theo?”
“He’s a heavy hitter in the mining industry,” Bill said. “He’s fond of saying that, if it’s in the ground, he’ll find it and dig it up. And if you supply the water, he’ll also throw in the world’s largest swimming pool, on the house.”
“Charming,” I said, frowning. “In 4S, the same floor as the model, we’ve got Jeremiah Walters.” I glanced back and forth at them. “Do you know who he is?”
“He’s a finance guy,” Shirley said, then glanced over at Bill. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Bill said, nodding. “Maybe commodities. The guy is worth a fortune.”
“On Rollin’s floor in 5S is someone named Charlotte Evans.”
“The Black Widow?” Shirley said, shaking her head in disgust. “I didn’t even notice her name on the list.”
“I’m sensing contempt,” I said, laughing.
“She’s been married five times,” Shirley said. “And all of her husbands died unexpected, tragic deaths.”
“Not to mention suspicious,” Bill said.
“And I assume that all of them left her a tidy sum in their will?” I said, my neurons flaring briefly.
“She’s done very well for herself,” Shirley said, staring out across the street.
“How did they die?” I said.
“Mostly doing stupid stuff,” Bill said. “Charlotte fancies herself as a bit of a daredevil and always expects her husband du jour to join in.”
“Daredevil? So, she’s a young woman?” I said
, leaning against a wall.
“No, she’s probably close to sixty,” Shirley said. “But you wouldn’t know that by looking at her.”
“What sort of accidents did her husbands have?” I said.
“Let’s see,” Shirley said. “One died in a scuba diving accident. Another one was killed skydiving.”
“Don’t remind me,” Bill said, shaking his head. “I caught that case. What a mess that was.”
“His chute didn’t open?”
“No, it didn’t,” Bill said. “Let’s just say he did a very good job covering the landing area and leave it at that.”
“Got it,” I said, grimacing.
“Another husband drove off a bridge when his brakes failed,” Shirley said.
“I guess things like that happen with cars, right?” I said.
“Yes, but not on a brand new hundred thousand dollar Mercedes,” Shirley said. “Let’s see, what else? Oh, one of them got shot while they were on safari in Africa. The Black Widow’s story is that her husband went outside their tent one night to check on a noise they heard, and one of the guides mistook him for a cheetah.”
“What?” I said, staring at her.
“Yeah, we almost got her on that one, but the guide’s story held up,” Bill said. “The shooting was eventually ruled accidental, and the guide is now living in a luxury condo in Boca. I’ll leave it to you to connect the dots.”
“Her fifth husband died in a parasailing accident in Hawaii,” Shirley said. “Somehow the rope on the back of the boat that was tied to the sail came loose.”
“Stern,” I said, correcting her.
“I have no idea what he was like,” Shirley said.
I stared at her, then shook my head.
“What?” Shirley said with a frown.
“Never mind. Not important. Hubby number five crashed into the ocean?” I said.
“He should have been so lucky,” Shirley said. “He crashed into Diamond Head.”
“Wow. And she’s been a suspect in all five deaths?”
“She has,” Bill said. “But as she likes to tell the media, she’s just incredibly unlucky when it comes to love.”
“And she’s gotten very good at telling her story,” Shirley said. “She actually has a lot of people feeling sympathy for her.”
