Sarah's List

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Sarah's List Page 15

by Elizabeth Gunn


  ‘His last name is Peete, with three E’s. Who else?’

  ‘Some guy in a sage-green Nissan drove up to me as I was getting out of the van a few days ago. I guess he could tell I worked here because I had my arms full of brochures … he just slewed to a stop alongside me and started asking questions about DeShawn Williams, did he work here, was he on duty now, all like that. Uppity, like I should feel thrilled to be answering his rude questions.’

  ‘Would you recognize him if I showed you a picture? Could you pick him out of a line-up?’

  ‘Sure. A blond guy with dreadlocks? How often do you see that? Plus, that look on his face like he thinks he’s the studliest man on two feet.’

  Oh, yes. I remember that well.

  Amanda wasn’t going to come down to Miracle Mile to look at any photo lineup, though – she didn’t have time for that. Sarah explained a few things about how inconvenient subpoenas could get, and they were soon on their way to the crime lab. And once there, despite being thoroughly pissed off about this interruption to her routine, Amanda could not resist the opportunity to show off her eyesight and memory, and picked weird knifeman out of the pack in two minutes flat. She seemed only marginally interested to learn that she had just identified one of the would-be kidnappers of DeShawn Williams.

  ‘Amanda,’ Sarah said, as she drove her reluctant witness back to Fairweather Farms, ‘why do you suppose that man and his partner tried to take DeShawn out of the hospital?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ She drew herself together in a tight ball of anger and said, ‘I should think by now the police would know.’ She flounced into her office and closed the door firmly behind her.

  Anna was tidying her reception desk, getting ready for the end of her shift, but she smiled a welcome and said Letitia was back in her office. ‘You want me to ring her?’

  Sarah said, ‘I’d really rather talk to Henry first – do you think you could find him?’ And Anna, who seemed to have what in the innkeeping trade is called a front-of-house personality, smiled contentedly and said, ‘Oh, yes, I can always do that.’

  She pressed a button on the side of her dais and spoke his name into a public address system. The message boomed softly around the building. ‘Henry, come to reception, Henry …’

  ‘Be just a minute,’ she said. When it proved to be more than a minute, she said, ‘Well, after a run, he has to put the bus away in the garage.’ Then, as the wait went on, she added, ‘Sometimes after he gets the bus put away he stops over in the maintenance shop for a few minutes to have a smoke.’ She shook her head, looking sad. ‘So bad for the lungs. And so far from the lobby.’

  Henry finally came stomping in from the back of the building, looking busy. He got his grumpy face back when he saw he’d been called away from his illicit break to talk to the detective.

  Sarah settled across from him in the employee breakroom and asked, ‘How well do you know DeShawn Williams?’

  ‘About as well as I want to,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t like him?’

  ‘He’s not a rising favorite.’

  ‘Could you point out a specific flaw in his character you find objectionable?’

  ‘It’s a lot fancier the way you say it,’ Henry said, ‘but he’s a lying, cheating sonofabitch that ought to have his cock fed to him out of a meat-grinder.’

  ‘Dear me,’ Sarah said. ‘Does he know you disapprove of him so wholeheartedly?’

  ‘Poke fun at it if you want to,’ Henry said, ‘but I don’t think it’s cute when a guy smooths his path through life by patting every female fanny he comes across.’

  ‘DeShawn is nicer to the women than the men?’

  ‘By a country mile.’

  ‘Consistently?’

  ‘Every day since he came to work here in May. I can’t speak for before that.’

  ‘Do the women seem to enjoy his attention?’

  ‘Like a cat goes for catnip.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that must be annoying to work around. What else do you know about him?’

  ‘He doesn’t respect the vehicles he drives. Pays no attention to the maintenance schedule, never checks the tire pressure.’

  ‘Can you tell me anything about personal stuff? Like where he lives or what he drinks, or does he have any hobbies?’

  ‘Why would I know any of that? I don’t hang with the little slimeball. Why don’t you ask Amanda in the office there? She knows all the private stuff about everybody, phone numbers, addresses. Probably knows more than that about DeShawn; I’ve seen him sneaking into her office every so often when he thinks nobody’s looking.’

  ‘Who’s that you’re talking about now, Mr Gossip Man?’ Anna said, walking into the breakroom and sitting down next to Henry at the table. Anna, it turned out, was Henry’s wife. Their relationship seemed to float on a solid cushion of raillery and sniping.

  ‘Never mind who I’m talking about,’ Henry said, ‘you don’t even belong in this conversation I’m having with my detective friend here.’

  ‘No? Then gimme the car keys and I’ll go get the groceries while I wait for you to get off work, if that’s what you call this tattle-tale session you’re having.’ Underneath all the chafing there was evidently a plan for the afternoon – he dug out a set of keys and handed them to her, she grabbed them and said, ‘Four o’clock right here. Don’t be late or the ice cream will melt.’

  ‘I’ll be ready. I told everybody, don’t ask me for any extras at quitting time tonight.’ He watched her out the door and then told Sarah, ‘Big birthday party tonight. The grandson is five; he’s just started kindergarten. We’re giving him a new backpack.’ He smiled ironically. ‘We start ’em out right in this country, don’t we? Load ’em up with burdens right from the git-go.’

  It was a curmudgeonly remark but a surprising burst of friendliness from a normally taciturn man, and Sarah, wondering why his attitude had changed, asked him, ‘Do you like driving the van, Henry?’

  ‘You bet. Best job in the place. You get to know all the clients, help them out with little things, and every so often they show a little gratitude.’ He held his right hand up and rubbed the fingers with the thumb.

  ‘Why didn’t you try to get the job before, when the first driver left?’

  ‘I did. But I don’t have a commercial license and pushy DeShawn came along and did have one, so he grabbed the job. But now that he turns out to be a rotten drug-dealing crook like I always suspected he was, he’s gone and they’re not so picky about the license.’

  ‘Oh, but doesn’t the law require—’

  ‘Sure, but Letitia’s willing to list me “in training” while I study to get the license. The company’s going to pay the fees, too – that was the other problem. They don’t usually do that, but Letitia went to bat for me, told them what a good long-term employee I been.’

  ‘Well, good luck with the test.’

  ‘Thanks. The driving’s no sweat – I’m a good driver. But the written test is a bear.’ He scrubbed his chin with a nervous hand. ‘I’ll get it. It just takes time.’

  Anna’s replacement at the reception desk was named Dorothy; she had the same accommodating personality that Anna did, and was glad to call Letitia to ask if Sarah ‘might have a word.’ In two seconds Letitia was standing in her open door, calling, ‘Come on in here, Detective, I’m glad to see you!’

  Letitia was in a good mood, pleased with herself – she wanted to show off to Sarah how fast she’d been able to put everything to rights. ‘Did you notice the garage door is fixed? And I got a whole new van – they totaled the other one. But listen, I want to hear all about that shooting in the hospital, wasn’t that just awful? I don’t see how you stand your job, honestly.’

  ‘Could we have the door closed for a few minutes, Letitia?’

  ‘Of course! I’ve got questions too.’

  ‘You can ask,’ Sarah said. ‘I may not answer. My questions first.’

  ‘Of course.’ She told Dorothy to take messages and sat
erect behind her desk, hands folded like a good girl in school.

  ‘You know DeShawn is under arrest?’

  ‘Yes. I couldn’t be more deeply shocked. I would have bet real money on him. If he’d asked me, I’d have written him one of those letters like the one from California he showed me. DeShawn is about as close as I’ve ever come to having a perfect employee.’

  ‘How well did you check out that reference he showed you?’

  ‘Well. I checked on the license, it was valid. And I called the hotel on the letterhead, got a clerk on the desk, asked to speak to the manager and was told he was in a meeting. She said I could leave a message so I did. He called me back the next day while I was taking two couples on a tour. I had to have a driver; I wasn’t getting applications from anyone with a chauffer’s license. The van has to run every day, it’s part of the service people are paying for. So I put DeShawn in the driver’s seat, making it clear it was tentative till I got confirmation on the letter. That manager and I played phone tag for another couple of days, it got to be a joke between us – and by then all my clients were telling me how much they liked the new driver, so …’ Letitia looked out the window with her fingers over her mouth. ‘I was busy. I let it go.’

  ‘And you’ve never been sorry?’

  ‘Not until now. I told you, he pleased everybody.’

  ‘Did you know he was running a small drug business out of your company van?’

  ‘No! My God, no. Do you really think I would put up with that? That’s a disaster for us – our whole franchise is at stake. And DeShawn, of all people – he’s always been so reliable. I trusted him completely.’

  Now that I’ve talked to him, I can believe that. Sarah tapped her cheek, thinking. ‘Who was he friendly with, on the staff?’

  ‘Everybody. DeShawn is friendly with everybody.’

  ‘Henry seemed to suggest he was extra close to Amanda.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt that. Amanda’s pretty standoffish.’

  ‘That was my impression, too. Is that why she uses a Mail Boxes address with your company?’

  ‘Oh, you noticed that? So did I, but the Phoenix folks didn’t. I was curious, of course, so I asked her, and she said it’s on account of her ex-husband.’

  ‘Oh? She didn’t mention him to me.’

  ‘And she never will, unless she has to. She only told me in order to explain her address.’

  ‘What, she’s a battered wife?’

  ‘Yes. She didn’t give me details, thank goodness. Just said she had to flee and left a lot of good stuff behind. Worth it, she said, to be free. So we list the address she gave us and like many of my employees now she has a cell phone only.’

  ‘Your company’s OK with this?’

  ‘Hey, it’s the way the world is going – the economy’s to blame and what are we supposed to do about that? I tell them how hard she works and they cut me a little slack.’ She gave me a grim little half-smile. ‘I also work very hard, and sometimes I insist on a little payback.’

  ‘And you really don’t know where she lives?’

  ‘Don’t know and don’t want to know. She always answers her phone when I call, which I hardly ever do. We have a good work schedule and stick to it. She could live under a rock for all I care.’

  Under a rock might be good enough for you, Letitia, but I’m a homicide detective. The fact that Amanda wanted her address unknown was reason enough for Sarah to want to know it. It didn’t come ahead of everything else on her list, though, and her watch said four o’clock. I’ll go back to my office and put it on the list.

  Several other detectives were settling into the workspace, unloading day packs, checking their phones for messages. Sarah was a little embarrassed about how good it felt to be back, even before she heard a familiar voice say, ‘Hey, she’s back! Hi, Sarah,’ and Ollie Greenaway stuck his cheery grin into her cubicle.

  Ollie was a twenty-year veteran who spent all his summer spare time keeping his three kids happy at their lake house. By September he was tanned caramel all over, including his buzz cut.

  ‘Ollie, how’s it going? You working the bank heist?’

  ‘Yeah, we all are, there’s plenty of sad stories to go around.’ He shook his head and looked grave. ‘You didn’t get assigned to any of them yet, huh?’

  ‘Nope. I’m back at Fairweather Farms. That shooting didn’t solve itself while I was gone.’

  ‘Didn’t get any simpler, either, I hear. Is this gonna change your attitude toward hospital visits?’

  ‘Yeah, you know, up until now I’ve just been worried about catching what everybody’s got in there. From now on I’ll be watching for weapons, too.’

  ‘Good plan.’ He turned on his desktop, pulled up the case report for the Chase Bank, and sighed. ‘Be glad you’ve still got that senior living place to work on. This bank job is hard.’

  ‘Complicated, you mean, or—?’

  ‘No, just – the people are so traumatized. They just keep bursting into tears! They all say they expected to die, every minute those men were in the bank. Would have died, they feel certain, if those two bank guards hadn’t called for backup right away.’

  ‘But then one of those guards got shot, is that what—?’

  ‘They both got shot – only one died. But it was other things too – do you know Laura Snively? Nice, dignified middle-aged lady, polite to everybody. When she didn’t open the safe fast enough to suit them they pulled her skirt off. Made her stand there in her half-slip and fumble with that combination – shaking, you know, and tears running off her chin, with a roll of fat showing over the top of the slip.’

  ‘Horrible,’ Sarah said. ‘But still, only two fatalities, that was lucky.’

  ‘Because street cops just swarmed the place – I think they must have set a new land speed record. It’s the one upside to the whole mess – Moretti’s going to be giving out a lot of commendations.’

  ‘Well, that’ll make everybody happy.’

  ‘It’ll make us happy. But the victims are going to take some time to heal, I think. They’ve all got this spooky feeling that the world has grown more dangerous – and I begin to think they’re right. These bad guys that came after the bank money seem to enjoy inflicting pain.’

  ‘Shee. So much violence and once again nobody got much money, did they?’

  ‘Hardly any! Rotten shame – they killed Ed Nelson for nothing. Our guys got there so fast – the baddies were just starting to bag the money when cops came running in all the doors. So … they may have kept whatever they had in their hands, but they dropped the bags and shot their way out. Is that your phone? Talk to you later.’

  ‘Sarah,’ Delaney said when she answered, ‘come on in my office, will you?’

  He looked drained, and his voice sounded as if it was being dragged through a gravel pit. Sarah said, ‘Ollie tells me the bank robbery is hard work.’

  ‘It’s the pits. The people are so distressed. The bank manager told me, “They made me feel like a piece of meat.” With tears running down his face! And this is Elliot Newburger, the darling of the after-dinner speakers list, always on the committee to fix everything. I would have said his ego couldn’t be damaged if you dropped him down a well.’

  ‘Well, nobody seems to know this gang of thieves,’ Sarah said. ‘Maybe we’ll get lucky, and they’re just passing through town.’

  As she hoped, the blithe wrongheadedness of the remark struck him funny. He vented a hearty laugh and began to look a little less likely to throw himself off a high place.

  ‘Right, let’s hurry them along to Salt Lake City, shall we? Listen, I called you in to ask you about Bogey. You worked with him when we first got the Fairweather case, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, you sent him along with me, remember?’

  ‘Yeah, well, what about him? Did he seem to know his stuff – was he any use to you?’

  ‘Oh, he was polite and did whatever I asked.’ She tried to remember anything memorable about Bogey. ‘Drives well. L
et me think – he got very interested in the ammo, did I tell you that?’

  ‘Yes, but I never understood why. The bullets were all the same, .223 all the way. What you’d expect with the guns they were carrying. So nothing to get excited about. We indulged his request to go along with Banjo to inspect the van, but nothing came of it.’

  ‘Except he found the thumb drive,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Well, yes. But that was just a happy accident. We don’t usually give points for those.’

  ‘Are we totting up points, now? You’re on his case, huh?’

  ‘No, I’m really not. I mean, he’s amiable enough, I like him. But I took him along on a couple of interviews and he was next to useless. Couldn’t think of any questions to ask, didn’t seem to get the significance of the answers I got. Is he shy? Shy people don’t apply for the detective division, do they?’

  ‘You kidding? Everybody in here’s got fangs and claws.’

  ‘Well, there you go. But my impression of Bogey is he may be hell on wheels in a bar fight, but I suspect he’s a case of, what’s the name of that law? Says you’ll keep advancing a bright guy till you push him past the threshold of his maximum usefulness.’

  ‘It’s not Murphy – that’s the one about everything going wrong that possibly can. But I know what you mean, and I’m sure – is it the Peter Principle? Listen, do you want to give Bogey to me for a few days, see if I can light his fire? I could use some help snooping.’

  ‘Yes, I was going to suggest that, Sarah. He’s a nice guy but he isn’t producing much where he is, so if you can help him find a niche, so we don’t have to send him back to the ranks … that’s usually not too successful.’

  ‘I’ve got plenty of work, I can keep him busy. If I make him into a good spy, will you help me set up a session in the box for Wheelchair man?’

  ‘Who? Oh, you mean the guy Jason tased in the ICU?’

  ‘Yes. Have we got a name for him yet?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s carrying a Mexican driver’s license, says his name is … where is it? Right here someplace … here: Eduardo Flores.’ He spelled it and shrugged. ‘Not necessarily the one he was born with, of course.’

 

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