twenty-six

The next morning, I woke with a start. I was dreaming I’d fallen into black ocean waves so thick and viscous I couldn’t move my arms or legs. A hangover from the night before no doubt. I dragged myself slowly out of bed. My right side ached. I’d pulled muscles clambering onto the deck of that restaurant. I wasn’t complaining—the other option would have been far less appetizing. I shivered when I thought what might have happened if Refrigerator Man, as I’d dubbed him, had discovered me hiding in the storeroom. If these people were as bad as Don seemed to think, my chances of getting out of there wouldn’t have been good.

I put the kettle on to boil, downed two aspirin, and dumped a large amount of espresso coffee into a filter. Wizard was circling my legs waiting to be fed. I scooped some Fancy Beast into a clean dish. When the water boiled, I poured it through the filter, inhaling the aroma. My drug of choice in the morning. The night before, I’d taken Don’s advice and flushed the contents of the tiny packet down the toilet. If Moira had been mixed up with these people, it opened a Pandora’s box of possibilities.

The phone in the office began to ring. I glanced at the clock: 7:15. An uncivilized hour for anyone to call. Even my grandmother wouldn’t call this early. My head was pounding. I trotted down the hallway and checked the caller ID. Not a number I recognized. Heaving a sigh, I picked up the phone, hoping I wouldn’t sound like something that had almost washed up in the Bay the night before.

“Julia? Hi.” A man’s voice.

“Hi.” I hesitated, not sure if I was correct. “Is this Matt?”

“Listen, sorry to call so early, but I was just wondering … ” Matt hesitated. “Have you heard if they’ve questioned David? The police, I mean.”

“Yes, they did.”

“Well, I don’t believe he had anything to do with this for a second. I’ve known him for years and he’s just not capable of hurting anybody.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Erring on the side of caution, I wisely kept my mouth shut and offered no information. There was something about Matt right now that didn’t feel quite up front, as if he were the type to throw out a tidbit of information, hoping to reel in more. Maybe it was just his stockbroker’s personality revealing itself, talking up an investment to an uncertain client, or was there more to it?

“I’m wondering … actually … um … I’d like to make an appointment with you. You know, for a personal consultation, like we talked about. Could we arrange that?”

“Oh. Of course. Let me check my calendar. What day is good for you?”

“Later today would be great. That’s if you have the time.”

“Today?” I squeaked. I quickly reviewed what I’d planned for the day. I still hadn’t caught up with Brooke to ask her about the bracelet I’d found at Moira’s apartment. She might or might not be at her office today. Other than that, I had to prepare some Zodia responses for the column, although I could do that at any time. I was well ahead of my deadlines, and my client scheduled for today had cancelled—an attack of cold feet for the second time. I was relatively free. Why turn a new client away?

“I know it’s somewhat short notice, but … I just happen to have some free time …” he continued.

I was surprised by his eagerness, and generally I’m very careful about new clients coming to my home, at least until I get to know them better. I always ask who referred them, and if my client is male, I tend to be even more cautious. When in doubt, I arrange to meet them in a private room at the Mystic Eye. I don’t mean to sound paranoid, but there are lots of crazy people out there. And most victims are done in by someone they know, even someone close. Family, friends, neighbors. The human race can be quite disgusting.

It’s also been my experience that whenever a client calls with a sense of urgency couched in a casual excuse, it’s often urgent. They just don’t want to tell you what the real issue is. Whether from an unwillingness to be open or a test of the astrologer’s ability, I’ve never figured out. “Well then, today it is,” I said. “Much later today—I’ll need some time to do the work. My fees are—”

“Oh, money’s not a problem, Julia. Whatever you charge is fine with me. How about five o’clock this afternoon?”

“That’ll work. I’ll see you then.” I gave Matt my address and he said goodbye, sounding genuinely relieved. What could be on his mind, I wondered. Did it have anything to do with Moira’s death, or was it something more personal? Whatever it was, I’d find out very soon. I’d intended to do some more work on all the Leary family charts, but now that would have to wait.

I devoured some toast, hopped in the shower, dressed in a presentable outfit, and straightened up the apartment. Then I spent the next two hours with Matt’s chart, making notes and preparing for his visit. When I finished, I stood up and stretched, stiff from sitting in one position too long. I felt a bad twinge in my side, but the good news was that my headache was gone. Maybe I was getting soft and needed regular exercise. But the prospect of joining a gym appalled me. I despise gyms. The equipment confuses me and everything looks like a torture device. Most of all, I hate the smell of sweat and dirty socks.

When all was ready for Matt’s appointment, I called Brooke’s office only to learn that she wasn’t in and the receptionist had no idea when she might be available. The bracelet was burning a hole in my consciousness, but it was easier to worry about the bracelet than dwell on Macao and what Moira’s involvement in that place might have been. I tried Brooke’s home number, but an answering machine picked up. I left a message that I had a quick question for her but it was nothing urgent. Given what she was going through, I certainly didn’t want to pressure her. It was always possible Geneva had had a chance to talk to her about the bracelet by now anyway.

There was one other person who might know if the bracelet was Brooke’s. Rather than calling Rob first, I thought I’d go straight to his office for an unannounced visit. I was curious to see him in his own environment. It was slightly presumptuous of me, but since he’d lain in wait for me outside Moira’s apartment, I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t beard him in his own den.

 

Rob’s law firm occupies two floors of a high rise at 600 California Street, in the heart of the financial district, just south of Grant. I wasn’t about to open a vein to pay for parking there, so I pulled into a public lot a block up the hill. I rode the elevator up to street level and cut through a small park with kiddy swings and a sandy play area. I didn’t spot any kids, but a homeless man was enjoying the slide. Across California Street, the bells of Old Saint Mary’s chimed the noon hour. The inscription on the tower reads, Son, observe the time and fly from evil. I shuddered. A dire warning aimed at the fearful.

The plaza in front of Rob’s building was crowded with people rushing out for an early lunch. I pushed my way through and stepped into the elevator. With a slight sensation of upward movement, it deposited me on the twenty-eighth floor. The interior lobby was dominated by a desk that rivaled the Starship Enterprise. The receptionist looked up as I approached. I gave her my name and asked to see Rob Ramer. She smiled and gave me a curious look but buzzed his office immediately.

I sat near the control deck. The waiting area was enclosed with layers of floor-to-ceiling green translucent glass. Shadows moved behind the glass like human fish in a murky aquarium. A few minutes later, Rob entered the lobby through a cleverly concealed corridor and came toward me.

“Julia. How nice to see you!”

“I hope I didn’t arrive at a bad time.”

He smiled. “No. Not at all. How are you? I was just finishing up a project and getting ready to head out for lunch. Come on back.”

He indicated I should precede him down the hallway. We were treated to a few curious looks from people we passed. Was it because he was so handsome and I was an eligible female? Or did he have a reputation in the office? At the end, the hallway turned right into another section.

“Keep on going to the end. My office is the corner one. Let me take your jacket.”

“That’s all right, I can’t visit for long. I had to come downtown today so I thought I’d stop by for a minute. I have a quick question, if you can answer it.”

“Please, have a seat.” He ushered me into his office and sat behind his desk, leaning back in a plush ergonomic chair.”

“Actually, I wanted to show you something. I’m hoping you recognize this.” I unzipped my purse and pulled out the bracelet. I’d rewrapped it in tissue paper. I wanted to show it to Rob without its Rochecault box, to gauge his reaction.

“It’s something we …” A little white lie, but I didn’t want to tip anyone off that I’d searched Moira’s apartment alone. “Something we found in Moira’s apartment, and Geneva thought it might belong to Brooke.” I placed it in the middle of his desk and unwrapped the tissue. Rob looked at it for a moment and said nothing.

“Could this by any chance belong to Brooke?”

“I don’t think so. At least, I don’t recognize it. Where did you find it again?”

“In a drawer in Moira’s apartment. It looks like sapphires and small diamonds and something else too.”

“Well, you know, it could be a fake, some kind of iolite quartz or something.”

I pushed the bracelet closer to him across the desk. “It appears to be the real thing to me. And I’m sure the setting is platinum. Here, have a closer look.”

Rob picked up a pair of reading glasses from his desk and slipped them on. He lifted the bracelet in its bed of tissues and held it under the desk lamp for a closer examination.

“I don’t know what to say, Julia. I’ve just never seen this before, so I don’t think it’s Brooke’s. She does have a few nice pieces in a safe at home. I can ask her. But if it’s Moira’s, I really can’t imagine how she would have been able to buy anything expensive.”

“I thought it was worth a try to ask. I’m sorry to bother you at work.”

He shrugged. “I’m no jeweler. I don’t know if I could tell real from fake anyway. Maybe you should have it appraised.”

“That’s an idea. I just thought I’d ask before I gave it back to the Learys. I left a message for Brooke, but please tell her not to bother.”

“Yes.” Rob looked down at his hands. “She’s … having a very tough time of it right now. You can understand.” Then he glanced up. “Listen, I’m just about finished with this.” He waved his arm over several stacks of paper on his desk. “Why don’t you join me for lunch?”

I hesitated. I had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity about Rob. Besides, I thought I might be able to pump him for more information about Brooke and Moira’s relationship.

“Sure. Why not?” I smiled.

“Great. Tell you what. Let’s go to the Palace, the Garden Court Restaurant. I haven’t been there for a long time. How does that sound? You can help me celebrate my proven innocence, thank God.”

“The Palace? Wow. You know, I haven’t been to the restaurant since it was renovated. I’d be happy to.”

“We can take my car. It’s parked downstairs, it’ll save us the walk. I’ve got to be back here in a couple of hours for a meeting anyway.”

The Palace Hotel is old, and some say it’s haunted by its builder. It’s one of the few remaining structures in San Francisco that survived the great quake of 1906, only to be burned in a later fire. A recent restoration returned the hotel to its turn-of-the-century grandeur, complete with Austrian crystal chandeliers, marble columns, potted palms, and a center courtyard restaurant topped with a stained glass dome. The original builder, William Ralston, had not lived to see his dream realized. When a run on his bank in 1873 left him destitute, he was seen thrashing in the Bay while taking his daily swim. A few days later, his body surfaced. Autopsy results indicated he died of a stroke, but history buffs still claim it was suicide.

The maitre d’ seated us quickly even though we had no reservation. I hoped Rob was footing the bill and glad I hadn’t worn jeans. I decided to splurge on the glazed duckling. Rob opted for oysters.

Once the waiter moved away, Rob said, “Brooke and I have decided to bring Ashley to the wake whenever it’s held, but just for a little while. The hell with Dan and what he thinks. It may sound strange, but children can have a hard time dealing with death and this may make it easier for Ashley.”

“So do adults. Have a hard time, I mean. But why does Dan seem …
I guess what I’m asking is, what happened to cause Dan’s bad feelings toward you? Was he always like that?”

“I believe so. On Dan’s part, at any rate. Frankly, I think he’s jealous.”

“In what way?”

“Of my success. Of the money I make now. I think it’s a working class attitude toward someone who’s raking in big bucks. But believe me, I didn’t always have a large paycheck, especially when I worked for the DA’s office. That was a pittance.” He laughed. “Look, Julia, just between you and me …” He hesitated. “I don’t think Dan’s the nice guy he pretends to be. The family won’t admit this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t somehow involved in drugs with Moira.”

Steve the mechanic’s remarks about Moira and her brother flashed through my mind. “Do you know something you haven’t told the family?” I asked slowly. “Dan seems …”

“I know. Like a really regular guy who works hard for a living. Runs his own business and all that stuff. But he and Moira used to hang out a lot together and she never had any money, so how did she afford some of her habits?”

“I understand she caused some trouble for Brooke in the past.”

Rob grimaced. “You better believe it. One time, she stole Brooke’s credit cards and went on a binge. She ran up thousands of dollars before Brooke discovered their loss.”

“What did Brooke do?”

“Well, she didn’t realize it at first. She reported the cards as stolen, and then later figured out it was Moira. God, I was pissed. Brooke wouldn’t press charges and paid off all the cards. That was the kind of crap Moira pulled. You can see why I didn’t trust her around Ashley.” Rob put down his silverware and took a sip of water. “Frankly …”

“Yes?”

He hesitated for a moment and then made up his mind to speak. “This might sound terrible, but hear me out.”

I waited.

“Both Dan and Moira stand … stood … to gain if Brooke were to die.”

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. “What are you saying?”

“Brooke has the money in our family. Certainly more than I do. She has a trust fund set up for Ashley, and I’m the executor of that, but a good part of her money is in trust for her mother, and Dan’s the executor. If something happened to Brooke, God forbid, Dan would get his hands on it. He could go through everything.”

“What does this have to do with Moira being shot?”

Rob hesitated. “I know this will sound awful … but what if …” He hesitated again. “What if it was Brooke, not Moira, who was the intended victim? Brooke goes down to the garage every night to let the dog out. What if they intended to shoot her, but ended up taking a shot at me?”

“They?”

“Whoever was there in the garage with Moira.”

“That’s horrible. I can’t even conceive of that, Rob.”

“I know. I hesitate to even say it. But the thought has crossed my mind. Julia, that night …” Rob trailed off. “Was Moira able to speak? Did she say anything to you?”

I didn’t want the picture of Moira bleeding to death to flash in front of my eyes. I did my best to push it away. In retrospect, though, I was almost sure she was gone before I even reached her. “No. Nothing.” I shuddered. “Can you think of any reason she would have had to be in the garage in the middle of the night?”

“Anything’s possible. Andy’s car was there. They’d been fighting all day. Maybe she was thinking of taking off. Maybe she was meeting someone.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just don’t know.”

“I spoke with Moira’s ex-boyfriend Steve, and Rita, the waitress who worked with her at the Alibi.”

“You did? Why?”

“Geneva asked me to help her find out what was going on in Moira’s life. I thought maybe people would speak more openly to me than to someone in her family.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“Not really. Rita thought Moira was involved with someone besides Andy. She saw someone pick her up one night. And her ex-boyfriend Steve seemed to think she was cheating on him when they were together.”

Rob was thoughtful for a moment. “There’s another thing that really stumps me. How did Dan get to the house so fast after Moira was shot. I was pretty much in a state of shock, but still, looking back, it seems like he just appeared right away … ” Rob trailed off.

“Andy called him.”

“Even so, the guy lives over by Lake Merced. With no traffic, it would still take him twenty or thirty minutes to get to our house. I wasn’t paying attention at the time, but he arrived pretty quick.”

I remembered Dan’s explanation—that he’d been close by, at a bar—but I didn’t want to volunteer anything that might add fuel to the fire between Rob and Dan.

Rob continued. “For all we know, maybe Andy and Moira fought and the gun went off. Maybe it was an accident and he panicked.”

I thought about that one. “Possibly. But Andy seemed relatively calm, especially at first, considering what went down. I think he wanted to believe Moira would pull through, or maybe it was shock or denial. I don’t know.”

“Yeah. And if he did do it, how did he get rid of the gun? I’ve thought about nothing else the past few days.” Rob reached over and put his hand over mine, a curiously intimate gesture that sent a shock up my arm. “It’s haunted me, Julia.” I could see tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so emotional. It just catches me off guard sometimes.”

His cellphone rang. “Excuse me for a sec.” He looked quizzically at the caller ID. “Rob Ramer.” He listened for a moment, then stared at me and the color seemed to drain from his face. “I’ll be right there.”

“Is something wrong?” I asked as he slid his cellphone into a pocket.

He looked at me a long moment before he spoke. “My wife’s just been arrested.”