For once, Julia was glad to be away from her beloved city of Boston. The memories there had been too painful, Brian's absence felt in each familiar street she was on, each old building she passed. And it was wonderful to drive her own little car again, even in this enormous, sprawling city of Los Angeles.
She was exulting that her car was responsive and seemed to be in perfect mechanical condition as she took the 101 Freeway toward the Sunset Boulevard exit ramp. Robin had not been wrong when he had advised her about where to fix the car.
She hoped Robin would not be a problem when she finally spoke to him tonight, as he had been on the phone. He had been very obstinate. Face to face, they would trade information.
Julia was puzzled because Robin did not seem at all like her stereotype of a typical mechanic. She couldn't quite picture him guzzling beer and scratching his belly as he watched football games with his cronies. No, Robin was obviously intelligent, well educated, articulate, likeable and very stubborn. But Julia felt confident that she would find out everything he knew, eventually. He had a gigantic crush on her. Otherwise he wouldn't have made the offer to come to Boston, or to start an investigation on his own. But this infatuation would not prove to be a problem either. She had devised a plan to cool his obsession.
As Julia exited the freeway, she reminded herself that she would be gentle. Robin had been kind and extremely helpful. Besides, she liked him and didn't want to hurt his feelings. She smiled when she thought about him in his special suit for going to court. Her best friend, Linda, whom she had known and traded secrets with from the time they were both five years old, would have considered him a hunk. But Linda hadn't seen him in old torn jeans with grease under his fingernails, or that awful truck he had been driving.
Thoughts of Robin were supplanted by those of Aaron Quijada, whom she was going to meet in a few minutes. She had to get the job that Brian had begun, writing Quijada's memoir. From that vantage point, taking brother's place in Los Angeles, she might be able to piece together information about what had really caused his death. The funeral had been just yesterday and she still felt she was in a sad daze, but she reminded herself that she had to concentrate foremost on getting the job.
Julia had come on this quest as a means of resolving things for herself so she could get on with her life. If she didn't find out, she knew she would always regret it. And she was angry enough now that she wanted revenge against the person who had beaten Brian and ultimately caused his death.
Julia passed through West Hollywood, with it's gigantic billboards, the Hollywood Hills to her right, with their twinkling lights in the beautiful homes in the hills, and through the 'flats' of Beverly Hills. Sunset Boulevard became curvy as she headed toward Bel-Air, where Aaron Quijada lived, during the quiet hours of twilight. Certain parts of Los Angeles were very beautiful, Julia mused, a little surprised at the lush vegetation and rustic, country-like loveliness as she turned right into the Bel-Air Estates, on Bel-Air Road, from Sunset Boulevard. She drove slightly uphill for several miles until she reached the correct address.
A closed iron gate barred entrance to the Quijada estate. She got out of the car and found a speaker phone in the enormous brick posts which held the gate. When she picked up the receiver a male voice at the other end asked who she was and Julia identified herself. The gates opened up and she got back into her car and drove down a long driveway as the gates closed behind her with a loud, ominous clang, audible even in the car.
Now she was entering into the place where she believed there might be clues about what happened to her brother. She drove slowly. The large estate, which she estimated must encompass several acres, was enclosed by thick stone walls which were at least six feet high. For privacy, she assumed.
The home itself was huge, several tall stories, also with a stone facade and peaked slate roofing. The large front windows were leaded in tiny diamonds. It was a forbidding structure, almost like a medieval castle. Enormous oaks surrounded the home, adding to the sinister illusion. There were flower gardens which extended around to the back, but they were all in shadows at the end of the day and did not brighten the exterior of the place. The drive was a wide circle and she could see behind the house for a moment, when she made the expansive curve. There was a large patio, a swimming pool and tennis courts beyond the house.
As Julia stopped, the front door opened and a man stood haloed in the light from inside the house. He was heavy and dark. Beside him stood a massive dog. She couldn't make out the man's features, but they gradually became defined when she walked up the steps toward him. He was probably in his fifties, with thick black hair that was slicked straight back from his face. The eyes were the most extraordinary feature in the rather heavy face. They were so dark they reminded her of blue black plums. His mouth was large and sensual, but Julia had stopped looking at the man because the dog was moving forward toward her, a low growl in its throat.
Julia had never seen such a large animal. Normally not intimidated by dogs, she stood there, perfectly still, until the dog came up to her with his head lifted and sniffed audibly at her. Its nose was wet, she could feel the moisture as the massive head bent down to snuffle at her hand.
"Bruno," the man said sternly. The dog did not turn around but backed up, stiff legged, until he stood by his master again.
"He's just a sweet, big puppy," the man said. "Now he knows you are female. Bruno would never attack a woman."
Wonderfully comforting, Julia thought. It wouldn't be easy sneaking around with that enormous dog on the premises. Julia felt certain that the mystery of what had happened to her brother would be revealed here. There were secrets that were hiding. She planned to explore every crevice of the place. If she got the job.
Aaron Quijada introduced himself and led her into his home. The entrance hallway had a fountain with the statue of a nude boy and girl in the center, holding hands. They walked around it and down a few steps into the sunken living room, which seemed spacious as a football field. Aaron indicated a white brocade couch for her, and he sat down in a leather chair.
He had obviously been expecting her and a silver service with coffee was on the table in front of her, with several plates offering cakes and cookies. Aaron poured her a cup of coffee and took one himself.
"You have a strong resemblance to your brother," Quijada said, as he settled back comfortably. "I was surprised and saddened by his death. We had become good friends."
Julia nodded and waited.
"We had been working together for a couple of months, as you know. I'll take you back to the cottage where Brian was staying. You can look over his notes. I have to admit, I didn't know if this was a good idea, your finishing up his work, until you told me that no one else could decipher his writing. I went back there and tried to understand what he had written down, and could not make out one word."
Julia sighed deeply, unaware that she did so. "We made up a kind of shorthand, when we were just little kids. Each figure represents a thought rather than a word. It's almost as fast as typing. But no one else can read it. He would have transposed those notes to his computer, though."
"Yes. Well, I know computers, and that was a mystery, too. He didn't seem to have much written down, although when we were together he took copious notes."
Julia wasn't surprised. Brian always used codes when he was writing a first draft. Until you knew the code and put it in the computer, the work would not show up at all, even in the computer's directory. Brian had not liked anyone seeing his writing until it was complete. She just hoped she could figure out what the codes were so she could gain access to his files. Then she would have all of the information. Maybe there would be cryptic messages buried within that would disclose more about his death.
"I understand that you are under some pressure, because the publisher is expecting a first draft at the end of the month," Julia said.
Quijada nodded. "Another reason why I wanted to find someone who could work quickly. Brian said he was almost ready to send the first few chapters to the publisher for editing, but now I can't find them. If we agree that you will take over, you could stay here, if that would be acceptable. There are guest bedrooms, or the cottage that Brian was using."
"I would be totally at your disposal," Julia answered, "but I would rather stay in a hotel. I have reserved a room at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It's just a short drive from here, and I have my own car, so I can accommodate any schedule you like."
She could tell he was still undecided and was surprised by the thought that it was because she was a woman. Why, the man is a chauvinist, she decided, startled that he could have lived so long in the United States and still have antiquated ideas about the ability of the female sex. Of course, Aaron had been brought up in a very male dominated culture, being of Mexican descent.
Julia had dressed in a business-like fashion, as she always did when going out for a job. She had on a grey tailored suit and had tucked her hair into a severe bun at the back of her neck. But that was not enough to impress him with her professionalism. She had to prove she could do the work.
Julia opened her briefcase and took out a portfolio. She put it on the coffee table between them, moving the silver tray out of the way. She presented several articles that she had written for newspapers and magazines, and then showed him a collection of photographs that had been published. She had been working as a photographer, but often wrote the text as well. The pictures exhibited exotic animals in Africa, mosques and minarets in Istanbul, and ruined castles in Northern Europe. Her specialty, though, was portraits of everyday working people and she had pictures, some very poignant, from all over the world.
"Brian mentioned he had an older sister who was a photographer. I didn't know you could really write." He actually seemed impressed, and she didn't know whether to be insulted or amused.
Julia held back a smile when Quijada got all animated, looking over her photographs, and pulled out his own heavy albums from a shelf across the room, going over them in minute detail with her. He had a large family, most of whom lived in Mexico. Then there were many pictures of himself on movie sets in romantic locations around the world, producing motion pictures.
He was a very charismatic person and she was uncomfortably aware that he found her attractive. She wondered why there were no pictures of an immediate family, with a wife and children, but she was sure she would find out if she was hired.
"I'd like to change the slant on the book my brother was writing," Julia said. "Make it more pictorial. In all of the photographs from your albums, you stand out dramatically. Your coloring, and a certain masculine charm. We could make this a book that would really be different, one that would be easier for people to pick up and look at, rather than a dry dissertation of your rise in the movie industry. Your ideals could be shown much more graphically."
Aaron Quijada immediately saw the wisdom in the proposal, as Julia though he would. He wanted publicity and many more people would buy the book in the format she suggested.
It would also give Julia much more freedom, prying into his life, if she could roam around and take pictures.
"You know I'm running for governor in the next election?" Aaron asked.
"My brother hinted at it," Julia said. That was not true, but she wanted him to think she knew more than she did.
They discussed the book she would do at some length, with the problems of using more photographs and the likelihood that the publishing company would go for the changed format.
While they talked, the big dog seemed to be asleep at Quijada's feet, until Julia made any movements. Then he would look up with little yellow, bloodshot eyes. She felt she did not trust either the man or the dog, but decided she better make friends with the dog if she was going to be roaming around the grounds of the estate.
When Julia got up to leave she stopped and dropped to her knees, waiting for the monster to come to her. He finally slunk over. She petted him, while he slobbered on her hands. The big dog seemed composed entirely of muscle and gristle. He finally lay down beside her and rolled over for a tummy rub, making happy little grunts, which sounded more like growls, when she whispered baby talk and patted the enormous hairy chest.
"I told you he was just a puppy, a pushover for a beautiful woman," Quijada said.
When she got up the dog gazed at her with slavish devotion and also with sadness that had she stopped her ministrations, which was supposed to inspire guilt. The big dog was so funny that she laughed and started stroking him again.
"You have the job," Aaron said, as he watched her with his puppy, admiringly. Julia was very beautiful when she relaxed and laughed. "If you would be good enough to come here tomorrow morning, I will take you to the cottage where Brian was working and you can get started."
Julia smiled with satisfaction when she left. Her first goal had been accomplished. Now she just had to get Robin Chavier to reveal what he knew about her brother's death.