• Thirteen •

Emma Whitehall was a very punctual person. I, typically, was not. But she was a good influence on me, and was my ride to the service, so we found ourselves arriving a full forty-five minutes before the event started. We were not, however, the first. In fact, we had to park two blocks away, since the synagogue’s parking lot was already full. We found a spot, and Emma and I were both going through our larger bags trying to take only what was necessary with us to the service. Tissues, cell phones, lipstick for Emma, cough drops for me. Emma also slipped some of her business cards into her pocket. One good thing about winter coats is that they are full of all sorts of hidden pockets, making a purse almost obsolete. I checked one more time to make sure my lipstick was on straight, and noticed that the vehicle parked behind us also had two passengers, both sitting in the car, neither moving. I recognized the bouncy brown curls of Toni Vestri and saw the sun bounce off John Engel’s bald head.

“Emma, wait here for a second. I just have to check in with somebody.”

I got out of the car and walked back to the unmarked vehicle behind us. I knocked on Toni’s window, and she had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“Hey, Sully,” she said.

“Hey, Toni. Hey, John. You following me or staking out the service?”

“Following you?” John said. “Don’t flatter yourself. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. The only reason to follow you would be to find your ne’er-do-well ex. But we’ll find him soon enough. Unless he’s really taken a runner. Wouldn’t blame him if he did. Evidence is really piling up against him—”

“John, shut up.” Toni said. “We need to follow the evidence, but we can’t assume we know where it’s going to take us.”

“Listen, I know you’re friends with Gus,” John said. “Hell, I know him too. We go way back. He’s a good guy. But you can’t tell me—”

“John always was very good jumping to assumptions without evidence backing him up. His famous gut,” I said to Toni.

“It only failed me once,” John said. “I never would’ve taken you for a snitch, that’s for sure.”

“A snitch? That’s what you call it? Fine, at least I wasn’t closing my eyes to what was going on around me—”

“Talk about no evidence—”

“Stop it, you two,” Toni said. “Seriously, I’ve had it. Believe it or not, we’re all on the same side.”

“What side is that? The rat squad side?” John said.

“God help us,” I said, “he’s been watching old gangster movies again, hasn’t he? That’s never good—”

“Don’t provoke him, Sully, please. Hey, will you do us a favor?”

“Not us. You. I wouldn’t ask her to spit on me if I were on fire—” John began.

“Don’t worry, Engel, I wouldn’t. What do you need, Toni?”

“I assume you’re here for the Mimi Cunningham service?” she asked. I nodded. “It’s private. Jerry Cunningham won’t let us in. It would be great if you could keep an eye out, take note of anything that draws your attention.”

“See if Gus shows up, for one,” John said.

“Thanks, John. Yes, see if Gus shows up. But also see who else shows up, who doesn’t. You know Babs Allyn, right?”

“I do. She runs Bay Rep and I have some friends working there right now. She hasn’t been around for the past couple of days. Apparently she’s up in Vermont.”

“Where in Vermont? Do you know?” Toni asked.

“Holly—that’s her assistant—Holly was supposed to send me an address, but she hasn’t. Honestly, I forgot to ask her today. I’ll text her again, forward it to you.”

“Why did you want the address?” Toni asked.

“I don’t know.” I rubbed my hands together and looked around at the additional cars that were parking. I needed to get inside. “It just seemed odd that Babs left out of the blue like that. I never like it when things seem odd. Especially when somebody’s died.”

“Well, if you see her, or Gus, or hear anything, or see anything, let me know, will you? Come to think of it, just call me later. Okay?”

“I’ll call you later, Toni. I won’t call you John. That’s probably for the best, for both of our sakes.”

As I walked back toward Emma’s car, she got out. Together we headed toward the synagogue and Mimi Cunningham’s memorial service.

“Isn’t there usually some sort of reception after these sorts of things?” I whispered to Emma.

The service was over, and Jerry was greeting people at the rear of the synagogue. The Rabbi had made an announcement that a celebration of Mimi’s life would be held at a later date “when things are more settled.” For now, she welcomed us all to give Jerry Cunningham our respects on our way out. Needless to say, the line was long. Emma and I had been in the middle, toward the side. We hung back, didn’t force our way into the line. I did take the opportunity to stand up and look around. See who was there and who wasn’t. I noticed Hal toward the back. He must’ve come in late. He was alone, no Babs in sight. I cast another quick look around, hoping to see Gus’s silver head. There were plenty of silver heads, but none belonged to him. I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed. Where are you, Gus?

I looked to my left and saw Kate staring right at me. I returned her look and forced a smile and small wave. She made a point of turning away and scurried out the side door. I was tempted to give chase but thought better of it. Maybe Emma and I would stop by the office on our way home. I took out my cell phone and dialed. I got a voicemail greeting that told me the office was closed for the week and calls would be returned next week. So much for that idea.

We made our way into the receiving line to give Jerry our respects for the second time that day. I took the opportunity as we got closer to look at him closely as he was greeting guests. He looked tough, exhausted. But grief-stricken? Or scared? I couldn’t tell. He did look like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Walking back out into the February chill and the setting sun was a bit of a shock. So much had happened already today, it was hard to believe it was still daylight. Emma must’ve felt the same, because we both stood there for a second getting our bearings.

“Nice service,” I said.

“Not really. This was just a placeholder.”

I looked over at her and remembered her father’s funeral. That had felt like a placeholder too. I realized they’d never had a follow-up memorial service after his murder was solved. Given everything, that was probably bad form, but I made a mental note to think about some way to honor Peter Whitehall this summer at the theater.

“What do you think that’s about?” Emma asked. I followed her gaze and looked to my right. Kate and Hal were standing toward the side of the road, having an argument. More than an argument. From their body language, it was more of a fight. I looked to my left quickly but realized that Toni and John were out of the line of sight. I took out my cell phone stealthily took a quick picture. I couldn’t hear what Hal and Kate were saying, but it was clear that Kate was furious and Hal was defensive. He was trying to calm her down, and put his hands on both of her upper arms. She shrugged him off and twisted away from him.

“I told him Friday, and I meant it,” Kate said. That was loud enough for us to hear, along with a few other folks nearby. I turned and saw that Jerry had heard her too. Kate stalked off, got into her small red car, and drove away. Emma and I watched her weave in between mourners making their way up the side street, back to their cars. We joined the tide of people. I turned back to see if Hal was still there, but he was gone. I looked at Kate’s car as she finally broke free of the crowd and noticed the Cape Cod bumper sticker on the back bumper.

“Hold on,” I said. “Isn’t that Gus’s car?”

“Belongs to Knight, Smythe, and Brown, technically. They both drive it. Since they both live in the city—”

“Okay, I have to ask. Do they live together?”

“No, not together. But the company owns the car, and they share it. They keep it in the garage underneath their offices.”

“If Gus called me from a tunnel the other day, and he was following up on something, was he driving the company car? If he was, how did it get back to the office?”

“All good questions,” Emma said. “Should we ask her?”

“Yes, we should,” I said. I looked to my left and saw Toni Vestri walking toward me. I slowed down to chat with her.

“Who just drove past here in Gus’s car?” she asked when she got close enough that only I could hear her.

“Kate Smythe. His business partner.”

“I know Kate. I take it Gus wasn’t here?”

“No, just his car, which she was driving,” I said. “One thing Emma and I were just remarking on. Remember when Gus called me to tell me to meet him at Cambridge One? I could barely hear him because he said there was construction. He also mentioned a tunnel. I assumed he was driving somewhere, but maybe he wasn’t? Maybe was walking somewhere?”

“Where’s there a tunnel?” Emma asked.

“I’ll deny I told you two this, but we pinged Gus’s call, the one he made to you, Sully. Closest we could pinpoint, he was down by Fort Point. Heading toward Congress Street there’s sort of a tunnel along the river walk.”

“A couple of them,” I said. “Maybe he’s—”

“We’re already on it, Sully,” Toni said. “We haven’t found him or his cell. Not even sure why he was down there.”

“Maybe I know,” I said. “When we were married we had a storage facility down there. We kept old papers there, seasonal clothes, Christmas decorations, that sort of thing. I think he kept it after the divorce. I remember I had to call him and have the billing changed to his credit card number.”

“That’s helpful, we’ll check it out. We will check it out, Sully. Not you. Leave it to the cops. This is getting more and more complicated and I want you to stay out of it. Do you hear me?”

“I just want to find Gus,” I said.

“We all do,” Toni said. “But there’s no love lost between you and John Engel. Seeing you, he got all riled up again. Stay out of his path, Sully. For your own sake.”

She turned and walked back up to where John was parked. He gave me a salute, and as soon as she closed the door he did a U-turn and drove away.

“She’s a charmer, isn’t she?” Emma said.

“She’s a good cop. She was a good friend. Still is, to Gus. I guarantee you she’s looking for him, and not because she thinks he’s guilty.”

“What do we do now?” Emma asked.

“Let’s go back to the apartment, see what Eric’s been up to while we’ve been gone.”

I’d turned off my cell phone ringer while I was at the service. I went to turn it back on and noticed I got a text from Cassandra.

Call Holly. Payroll time. She’s drowning.

Emma was crawling her way into traffic. I called Holly. She picked up on the first ring. “Hi, Sully, I was just thinking about you.”

“I’m calling to check in. I just went to Mimi Cunningham’s funeral.”

“Obviously, I wasn’t there. I actually thought about it, as a gesture to Jerry, but it’s been a little nuts here at the theater.”

“Nuts? What do you mean?”

“First of all, I had to put in payroll. It took me half the day to find Babs’s passwords so I could sign in and pretend I was her. I’m not authorized to call it in, but people needed to get paid. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. Tell you what, tomorrow I’ll try and figure out how to get you authorized. We may need to get your treasurer to sign something, but we’ll figure it out. What else is going on?”

“We had a production meeting about the next show. Everyone asked me about their budgets, and I didn’t know what to tell them. I don’t think Babs finished it. All I could find were budgets from last year’s shows, and the year before. But nothing for this next one. People want numbers, and I couldn’t figure it out.” Holly sounded like she was going to cry. I knew the frustration, having had to wade through my predecessors’ files when I first started my job.

“What’s the next show?”

“It’s a new play. We always do a new play in that slot.”

“Well, can you look at last year’s budget for last year’s new play, make the changes?”

“Yes, but this year’s show has six people, last year’s had two. And scenic tells me that they need double the budget this year—”

“Scenic always wants double the budget. Would it help if I came in?”

“I guess … I was thinking about trying to leave a little bit early today to have dinner with my boyfriend. Get away from here for a bit. But I can stay—”

“No, no. We can do it tomorrow.”

“I have a meeting tomorrow at ten o’clock. I don’t suppose…”

“What?”

“If I give you Babs’s login, would you look at the files on her computer? They should all be there. We’ve started to work from the cloud so that we can all work from wherever.”

“It’s probably not a good idea, Holly,” I said. “There could be some confidential information in those files—”

“Not on these files, not on the cloud files. Anything confidential is kept on laptops. I don’t know where Babs’s laptop is. She must have it with her. But the cloud has files we all share, like budgets, things like that. I’d give you my password, but Babs’s password will let you go in and copy things, and edit them. My password only lets you look at the files. I’ve been using Babs’s passwords since she left.”

“What’s the meeting tomorrow morning at ten?” I asked.

“Another production meeting. I put them off today, but I think if I put them off any longer they can smell blood. Not that they’d do anything wrong—”

“But you need to stay in control. I get it. Send me the password; once I get home I’ll look around. See if I can pull something together for you to work with. I don’t suppose you know the overall budget, do you?” Holly gave me a number. “Good. Send me that too. Otherwise I may forget. I’ll try to figure out how Babs worked, but I can also pull from my own files. Do me one more favor; send me a synopsis of the play. Number of characters, number of sets, you know the drill. That’ll help with the number as well.”

“Thank you so much, Sully. I’ll send an email right now, brain dump everything I know about the show. I might have been able to pull this off myself, but not right away. And probably not correctly. You’re saving me. Don’t hesitate to text me any questions. Thank you again.”

“So tell me, are you on the Bay Rep payroll these days?” Emma asked as I hit the end-call button.

“Sorry. I realize you probably heard most of that. Poor kid, she’s in way over her head.”

“How much work will it be to do this budget?”

“Hopefully not much. It doesn’t sound like a huge show, and I can use Babs’s old files to help make some of the decisions. First budgets are just a working document, something for everyone to discuss.”

“You realize, don’t you, that you’ve got Babs’s password now, right?”

“Just to her cloud files. Business, not personal.”

“Well, chances are good that her password is the same for other things as well. Or we can use it as a way to see what other files she has. If you’re right, and Babs’s leaving town now is an odd thing, maybe some of her files will give us clues. Technically, we won’t be looking for Gus. But we can both still feel like we’re doing something. Why does that seem untoward?”

“It does seem like I’ve been rubbing off on you, Emma, and not in a good way.”

I texted Cassandra back. Thanks for the heads up. Just called Holly. Hopefully we’re back on track. I’d barely hit send when my phone rang. Cassandra.

“Sorry about this,” I said to Emma.

“Put it on speakerphone this time,” she said. “Last time it was hard to hear everything.”

“Hi, Cassandra. How goes it?”

“Can you talk?”

“Yes I can. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I just don’t have a lot of time. No rest for the wicked. Now that I’ve got the money to do the work, I’ve got to do the work. I know you’re worried about Babs, and there’s a lot going on. I was talking to somebody in the costume shop, a friend of Babs. She’s worried too. Really worried. Afraid that Babs is going to do something drastic.”

“Drastic? What you mean?”

“I’m still pulling the story together, but here’s what I’ve got so far. Years ago, we’re talking years ago, Babs fell in love with somebody. Apparently she never got over it, but she stayed married to Hal. Made it work. Anyway, this old love had Babs worried.”

“About someone finding out?”

“No, that wasn’t it. This is the part I’m confused about, but maybe it makes sense to you. Last year some guy disappeared—”

“Disappeared? Was his name Martin?”

“I didn’t get names. Don’t interrupt. I only have a minute more before I should get back into the shop. Anyway, this guy disappears. Her guy is involved somehow. Maybe he’s the one who disappeared. I can’t get a straight story. Anyway, Babs hires a PI to look for him. She had a meeting with the PI Tuesday afternoon.”

“Tuesday? That must have been where she was going when I saw her at the theater?”

“Probably? This woman in the shop, she heard from Babs later that afternoon. She’d been drinking. She wasn’t making much sense, just kept saying she had to make it right, that it was partly her fault. That she was going to clear the air that night, no matter what the consequences. That’s all Stella told me, but I thought you should know. Not sure if that helps you find Babs or not, but I sure hope you do. Gotta go.” Cassandra disconnected the line.

“Whoa,” Emma said. “What do you think that meant? Babs had an affair with Martin? Or with Jerry? You think Hal knew?”

“I don’t know answers to any of those questions,” I said. My hands itched for my notebook but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I sent myself an email with the notes from my calls. “Good thing we’re almost home. I need to write this stuff down before I forget the details. I don’t have any more answers to add to our ‘find Gus’ board, but I’ve got some really interesting new questions to ask.”

“We should pick up some food on the way. I’m starving,” Emma said. “Am I terrible? All I think about is food.”

“Breakfast was a long time ago,” I agreed. “I hate to make this recommendation, but how about pizza? I was sorry I didn’t get to try the other two we brought home.”

“Since we’re living in a frat house, sounds good to me,” Emma said. She hit the button on her steering wheel and told the car to dial the pizza place. We were connected to them right away.

“Emma, my friend, what can I get for you tonight?”

“Same as last night, Jeff. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”