CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

“So where is he?” Benny asked.

“His assistant says he hasn’t seen him and can’t reach him,” Laslo replied. “He already missed a couple meetings this morning.”

“Son of a bitch. You think he got wind we have tape of him coming and going the night Helen was killed?”

“Maybe. He’s gotta know that’s why we want to chat.”

“Okay,” Benny said, “Let’s grab Louis, then see what we can do about layin’ hands on Chippy.”

“Thanks for coming down, Louis,” Benny said, staring at the awkward lawyer seated at the midline of the desk. “Just a quick follow-up for you.”

Louis nodded but didn’t speak.

“Somebody sent the cops a video of Nora and Helen kissing a couple years ago. That you?”

Louis didn’t answer. Instead he seemed to shrink as he looked across the desk to the blank wall, letting out an audible sigh. The room was quiet—even for Saugatuck—but Benny filled the silence.

“You know what? Don’t answer. Let me instead share my knowledge of the intersection of technology and the law of search and seizure. Maybe not your specialty. Did you know that whenever your phone is on, Google is keeping track of it, whether they made the phone or even if you just have one of their apps? Even if you wouldn’t dream of sending an email or surfin’ the web, Google still knows exactly where it is and how fast it’s moving. Amazing. You with me so far?”

Louis’s expression did not change.

“Excellent. And here’s the really cool part: A judge can order Google to produce a record of what phones were at a particular spot on a particular date in a particular time window. It’s called geofencing. Questions to this point?”

Louis didn’t react.

“Okay, good, good. Now we get closer to home, to coin a phrase. We know Nora and Helen kissed at the corner of Pequot Avenue and Westway Road two years ago, ’cause we’ve seen the film and talked to Nora. But, pretty vague time frame, right? Except we know from the magic of restaurant payment records the exact day they were at Artisan and what time they paid the check. And we know it’s a fifteen-minute walk to the corner where they kissed. So we know the window in which to ask what phones were near that corner. We know when and where to look. Pretty exciting, dontcha think?”

Louis shifted in his seat.

“Contain yourself; we’re almost there. And do you know whose phone was at the corner when the two women were, when a video of them was taken that was later sent to the cops? A place nowhere near his fucking home or work?”

Benny now leaned forward to stare at Louis, who still did not react.

“Your phone, motherfucker! Your phone was there, in your fucking stalker hands! Videotaping two women out for a walk! That’s what this magical intersection of technology and law tells us. So what’s your answer there, Louie? Are you the creep following two women around and takin’ videos? And remember, this is the land of truth, so you better tell it like it is.”

Louis paused, then said, “It was I who took that video, and I sent it to the police after Helen was murdered.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“The recording or sending it to the police?” Louis asked.

“Both’d be swell,” Benny replied.

“I made that video on my phone one night after seeing them having dinner in Southport. I was interested in the nature of their relationship—because I could not understand how Nora was hired over me on the merits. I made the video because it was relevant to that question. I seemed to be the only one who saw the inappropriateness of Helen’s feelings toward Nora. I kept the recording as a reminder that things were not aboveboard with those two and ultimately decided to send it to the authorities because it seemed relevant to their investigation. Let’s not forget that Helen was found murdered in a canoe belonging to Nora and, in my view, she remains the prime suspect.”

Benny blew air out of his nose. “Well thanks for sharing, Louie, but I’m thinkin’ maybe you were so angry that you killed Helen. And then you put her in Nora’s canoe and then you sent your creepy spy video to the police to jam her. How’m I doin’ so far?”

Now Louis’s voice rose for the first time. He didn’t answer Benny but instead turned to look at Laslo. “I did not kill Helen and I am offended by the accusation, especially in this setting, when I have been nothing but honest. Additionally, the police have my alibi and I am not a suspect no matter what this, this—outsider says.”

The room was silent until Laslo spoke, looking at Benny. “I can see a variety of areas in which plumbing Louis would seem to make sense, don’t you agree?”

Benny answered in his flattest Saugatuck monotone. “I very much agree further plumbing may be in order, but I’d prefer it take place at the MC.”

“Logical,” Laslo answered. He turned to Louis and arched both eyebrows. “To be continued. Thanks for coming down, Louis.”

Louis looked genuinely confused, but didn’t speak. Instead, he gently slid his chair back, stood to hitch up his belted jeans, and walked from the room.

When he was gone, Laslo lifted his feet onto his side of the desk. “Son of a bitch. That was a thing of beauty. And please tell me you weren’t making up the geofence stuff?”

“Ha,” Benny answered, “I protect my sources, but that juice was worth the squeeze, eh?”

Laslo whistled quietly. “Sure was. Now we gotta figure out what to do with it.”