It Takes a Photographer

by Edward Kendrick

  "Probably, although, since she took the pictures Friday afternoon, it could be a business."

  "Only one way to find out." Lou counted the windows across from the corner of the building. "Okay, I'll leave you to it and see what I can find out."

  "Can I keep Olivia, to babysit?" Clay asked with a bit of amusement as they returned to the loft.

  "That's up to her. If you do, you'll have to take her back to the gallery. She came over with me."

  "No. I'm good," Clay said.

  They walked into the living room to find Olivia sitting on the sofa, rocking Jamie. "He woke up, and…" she said.

  "Of course he did," Clay said, taking Jamie. "Do you even know what sleeping for more than an hour is?" He smiled as he said that, kissing Jamie's forehead, then Clay wrinkled his nose. "Okay. Changing time." He looked hopefully at Olivia.

  "Not me," she told him, laughing. "I'm leaving with Lou. He's my ride."

  "Coward," Clay muttered as he let them out of the apartment. "Let me know what you find out, Lou."

  "Don't worry. I will," Lou replied.

  Before checking out the building, Lou took Olivia back to the gallery, much to her obvious disgust.

  "This is potentially police business now," he told her.

  "I know. Still…" She gave him the blown-up picture. "Do you want the others, too?"

  "Not at the moment, but keep them handy."

  "I'll make copies for you and bring them in tomorrow."

  Lou took time to tell Rory where he was going, getting a kiss and a warning to be careful, which he promised he would. "It's not like I'm going to do more than find out who the apartment, or business, belongs to, at this point."

  *****

  It turned out to be an apartment, as Lou found out when he got to the building. The sign on the marquee over the front entrance said Windward Arms. You'd think the place was somewhere on the ocean, from that name. Oh, well, I guess with a million apartment buildings in the city, coming up with something unique is hard.

  That was all he found out at the moment. A sign in the entryway announced that the manager was only available from eight to six, Monday through Friday. He called the number listed on the sign, and got a recorded message giving him the same information.

  "Hell of a way to run a business," he grumbled, going back to his car. "What do the tenants do if there's an emergency?"

  He returned to the apartment above the gallery long enough to change clothes and head to work, vowing to call first thing in the morning to talk to the manager. When Rory asked why he was waiting, Lou pointed out that, other than the photo Olivia had taken, there was no proof something might have happened. "And, in that one, the man and his presumed victim are too dark to really be certain he was actually strangling someone. Looks can be deceiving."

  "They only show up in that one photo?"

  "Yes. The time stamp says it was the second of the three she took."

  "Want me to do a bit of research on the building? I might be able to find out who the tenants are."

  "Sure. Have at it. Hell, let Gideon try, too, if he's willing. He's got the resources."

  Rory grinned. "I was planning on it, if you were okay with the idea." He took the file with the blown-up photo and the building's address when Lou handed it to him. Then, after they shared a goodbye kiss, Lou headed off to work.

  *****

  As soon as the gallery closed for the day, Rory called Gideon. He knew his boss was in town, since he'd seen him two days before at the party.

  "What?" Gideon said, sounding a bit testy.

  "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" Rory replied. "Sorry. It can wait."

  Gideon chuckled. "Since you're calling on a Sunday evening, I suspect it can't. The only thing you're interrupting is me trying to beat Cole."

  Rory coughed. "You want to run that by me again?"

  "At chess. Good Lord. Get your mind out of the gutter and tell me what you need."

  "Your help with something that may not be anything."

  "Cryptic."

  Rory gave him a quick rundown about why he'd called, at which point Gideon told him to meet him at Monahan Enterprises. "It will be easier to help if I can use the company computers."

  They arrived at virtually the same time, Rory parking behind Gideon just as his boss got out of the car.

  "Let's see what you have," Gideon said when he and Rory were in one of the computer rooms.

  Rory gave him the building's address then showed him the photo of the window. "It's on the seventh floor, eighth window from the right corner as you look at the back of the building, according to what Lou put in his notes."

  "And you want to know who rents that apartment. Why didn't Lou… Okay. Never mind. Unless he knows the apartment number, looking at mailboxes would only have told him who lives on the seventh floor." Gideon studied the photo. "It definitely looks as if the man is trying to choke the other person, but there could be other explanations—like, he's given her or him a necklace and is fastening it. Or, and I hate this, some men will put their hands on the woman's throat to hold them before kissing them."

  "Yeah. That's a real turn off, whether its male-female, or male-male."

  "No kidding."

  By then, Gideon had brought up the website for the apartment building. "Of course, the only floor plans are for the apartments themselves, not their locations on each floor. That's no help at all."

  He moved quickly to another site and input the building's address. From there, he clicked from link to link until he got to the page he wanted. It had the floor plans for the apartment building, and he clicked on the one for the seventh floor. Counting the windows across the rear side, he said, "Apartment seven-o-six."

  "Now we need a name to go with it."

  Gideon glanced at him. "That's next on the list." A moment later, he grumbled, "Now is when I could use Thad. He's my hacker and a hundred times better than I am at this." Despite that comment, it only took him fifteen minutes to get into the management company's information on renters at their various buildings and another two before he told Rory, "The apartment is rented to one Floyd Seaver, thirty-five, single."

  "Thanks. I'll let Lou know. I don't suppose—"

  "That I can find out anything else about Mr Seaver and save Lou some time? Hell, you saved me from Cole's beating me at chess again, so I owe you."

  "Interesting," Gideon said a few minutes later. "Mr Seaver may not be married now, but he was until four months ago, when he got divorced."

  "Does it say why?"

  "His wife sued on the basis of infidelity on his part. The decree doesn't name the third party."

  "Aha. So he might be, or have been, a player."

  "Now that I couldn't say, Rory."

  "Anything else? Like a photo of him?"

  "That's an easy one." Gideon accessed the driver's license bureau—something Rory knew was easily done if you knew how—and a couple of minutes later printed out Seaver's driver's license. "Not a bad looking man," he commented.

  Rory nodded in agreement. "What other info do we have for him?"

  "The usual. He works for an accounting firm. Parents deceased. No siblings. Moved here from Nashville in 2004. No reason given. Owned a house until the divorce. We can presume the wife got it as part of the settlement. She is getting fairly large alimony payments from him."

  "Makes me wonder if she was the person he was strangling."

  "Why would she be visiting him? All right, never mind. Women do strange things at times."

  Rory laughed. "That was a rather chauvinistic statement."

  Gideon chuckled as he got offline and shut down the computer. "Then I revise it and say that people, male and female, do strange things, especially when it comes to those they love—or loved." His expression darkened momentarily before he smiled. "I'm a prime example of that. Or I was until I met Cole."

  "I'm sure we've all had our moments. Anyway, thanks for your help. I'll let Lou know what you found out, and he can ta
ke it from there."

  *****

  While Rory and Gideon were digging into Floyd Seaver's background, Clay was telling Quint about Lou's visit.

  "From what I could see in the photos, particularly the blow-up of the window, I think it's possible that Olivia caught a murder in progress—or at least an attempted murder."

  "I presume Lou's going to check further," Quint said, while bouncing Jamie on his knee. Jamie giggled, then, to both men's surprise, started babbling "da-da" over and over again.

  "His first words!" Clay said, pumping a fist in the air. "I told you he's brilliant."

  Quint laughed. "Not sure those were really words, but I've always agreed he's smarter than the average baby. Hell"—he glanced at Jamie—"Umm…heck. He's been crawling for the last week."

  "Tell me about it. We need baby gates and probably those lock things for the cupboards." Clay took out his phone to add them to his shopping list.

  "I'm off tomorrow. We can take care of it then." He jiggled Jamie a few more times before cuddling him, smiling when the baby's eyes began to close. Getting up, he took Jamie to the screened-off area at the far end of the room, laying him in his crib after kissing his forehead.

  Clay followed, giving his son a kiss as well, whispering, "Sleep happy, and—please, God—all night."

  "Lot's of luck," Quint muttered, turning on the baby monitor. When they returned to the sofa, Quint kept his voice low as he asked, "Did Lou say he was going to look into whoever lives, or maybe works, in that building?"

  "Not in so many words, but you know he will." Clay shot him a look. "So will you, I bet."

  Quint shrugged. "Maybe. It depends. If Lou finds out who the man in the photo is and thinks there's enough cause to talk to him, I might offer to partner with him on it, with Harber's permission."

  "You know Harber will agree. You're his golden boy."

  Snorting, Quint said, "As if." He reached for Clay, pulling him against his chest. "But enough talking about this. I have other, more important things in mind that do not involve murder and mayhem."

  Clay grinned. "Just what would those be?"

  Quint made it quite clear what the reply was, and they managed to accomplish them without Jamie waking up—much to their relief.

  Chapter Three

  As soon as he got to work Monday afternoon, Lou began digging deeper into the information Rory had gotten from Gideon about Floyd Seaver. Or, at least as much as he could, considering he was handling more than enough cases needing his immediate attention. He did call the building manager and found out that Seaver was an exemplary tenant.

  "No one's complained about his playing music too loud or throwing wild parties," the man said. "He comes; he goes. I rarely see him. When I do, he says 'hello' and that's it."

  Lou thanked him, asking him not to say anything to Seaver about their talk.

  "Has he done something illegal?" the manager asked, sounding worried.

  "Not that I'm aware of," Lou replied. "His name came up in a case I'm investigating, and I just wanted to get a take on him."

  That seemed to satisfy the man.

  "So, I'm no closer to knowing if anything happened in Seaver's apartment Friday afternoon than I was this morning," Lou said to Rory when he got home that night.

  "Have you talked to Harber?" Rory asked.

  "Not yet. I wanted to compare notes with Quint before I did that, and he was off today."

  "Call him."

  "I think he'd shoot me," Lou replied, "especially if it woke Jamie."

  "Then go in first thing in the morning to catch him."

  Lou rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir. That means I'd better get to bed."

  "Not without me."

  "When has that ever happened?" Lou replied, hugging him.

  Rory grinned. "Never, since we got married. Well, except when I'm off on a job."

  They continued bantering as they got ready for bed. Then, wrapped in each other's arms, they slept.

  *****

  "Just the man I want to see," Lou said as he approached Quint.

  "You're early," Quint replied. He had the distinct feeling he knew why.

  "I figured I'd stand a better chance of catching you this way." Lou dropped into the seat next to Quint's desk. "I'm sure Clay told you about the man in the window."

  Quint chuckled. "That sounds like a movie title. Yeah, he did. Do you have the pictures Olivia shot?"

  "Yep. Give me a minute." Lou went to his desk, returning with them. "What do you think?" he asked, after Quint looked at the blow-up.

  "I think we need to talk to Harber—or you do."

  "Both of us, if that's okay with you."

  Quint chuckled as he got up. "Double-team him?"

  Lieutenant Harber looked up when Lou opened his office door enough to ask, "Are you busy?"

  "When aren't I? Come on in."

  As soon as Lou and Quint were seated, Lou handed Harber the original photos, saying only, "Tell us what you think."

  Harber laid them out in order, commenting, "You have a handsome son, Quint. For a baby, that is. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the party. However, I've got the feeling that's not why you want me to see these." His gaze went across the three, then back to the center one. "I know what it looks like, but…" Lou handed him the blow-up of the window. "Okay. I'd say the man might, just might, be trying to strangle the other person. It's hard to tell for certain, given the lighting." He looked at Lou. "Do you have the negatives—or disc—from the photographer? Our people might be able to enhance these, if you do."

  "I suspect they're the best we're going to get. The photographer is a professional and does her own processing. Very well, actually, from the photos she shows at the gallery."

  "All right. Still, if she's willing to hand them over to give our people a shot at it…"

  "I'll ask. What we want to know"—Lou glanced at Quint—"is, do you have a problem with us having a talk with the man. His name's Floyd Seaver."

  "I suppose not. As long as you're careful and couch it in terms that don't let him know the real reason why you're there."

  "I think we can handle that," Quint replied.

  As soon as they left Harber's office, Lou called Olivia. She told him she did have the negatives and had no problem giving them to him. "I'm not so conceited that I think I'm the only one who can enhance a photo, despite the fact I've been doing it forever," she said with a laugh.

  "All five years, if that," Lou replied.

  "More like fifteen. I got hooked on photography when I was ten and started developing my pictures myself a couple of years later."

  "Precocious child," he said, before hanging up.

  "I suspect we won't be able to talk to Mr Seaver until this evening, when he gets home from work," Quint said. "And before you suggest it, if we go to his workplace, it will only put him on the defensive."

  "I know that. Let's plan on six thirty? I'll take my dinner break then, and we can meet at his building."

  "Do we know what he looks like?" Quint asked.

  "Yes." Lou handed him the copy of Seaver's driver's license Rory had gotten from Gideon.

  "Nice looking man."

  "Yeah." Lou filled him in on what Rory and Gideon had found out. "Rory's comment was he might be a player," Lou said when he finished.

  "The fact he had an affair that ended his marriage doesn't mean he goes after anything in skirts," Quint remarked.

  Lou laughed. "I think that's Rory's cynicism coming out. Okay, I'll see you tonight."

  *****

  Quint arrived at Seaver's apartment building well before six thirty, stationing himself at the window of a coffee shop across the street. He wanted to watch Seaver as he came home to try to get a feeling for the man. As it turned out, he was doomed for failure since the man never showed up. Well, at least he didn't come in through the front door or check his mail, which most everyone does before going up to their apartment. He knew the man hadn't done the latter, as he had a good view of the bank of mai
lboxes in the front entryway.

  He did spot Lou when he arrived then went to join him.

  "How do we want to approach this?" Lou asked as they went inside.

  "It's after six, meaning the building manager is gone. So we get someone to buzz us in then do a door-to-door on his floor, on the pretext that we received a call about what sounded like a domestic dispute."

  "Won't people ask why we're here, instead of an officer?"

  "We work with the domestic violence unit." Quint smiled slightly. "I doubt anyone will call to check, once we show them our badges."

  "Let's hope not."

  Quint pressed three buttons before someone buzzed them in without asking who they were. "There's always one in every building," Quint said disgustedly, even though it had been what he'd wanted.

  When they got to the seventh floor, they did indeed rap on two doors, giving the people who responded their story. Both the man and the woman said they hadn't heard anything, and thus weren't the ones who had called the police.

  They got to Seaver's apartment. Quint rapped, then stepped back so he could be seen through the peephole. The door opened a crack, and he could see there was a security chain.

  "Can I help you?" a woman asked.

  "We'd like to talk to Mr Seaver."

  "Why? Who are you?"

  "Police." Quint showed her his badge. "We had a report about a domestic violence incident. The call came from a number listed to a Mr Floyd Seaver at this address. Was it made by you?"

  "No."

  Quint nodded, asking very quietly, "Are you all right?"

  "Of course I am." She sighed. "I suppose you want to make sure for yourselves." She closed the door long enough to disengage the chain, then opened it again. The woman standing there was beautiful. She had long, raven-black hair, deep blue eyes, and a flawless porcelain complexion. "There. See." She pushed up the sleeves of her high necked blouse. "No bruises. No bloody lip or black eye. Satisfied?"

  "So far. We'd still like to talk to Mr Seaver. If he made the call, for whatever reason…" Quint left it hanging as he casually moved past her into the foyer. From what he could see of the living room, there were no signs there had been a fight of any sort. Unfortunately, he couldn't see the other rooms. Not that it would make any difference. She would have straightened up afterward.