Robin decided to borrow Jay's apartment for the meeting with Julia. He had given her directions to the apartment in Westwood and was expecting her at any minute. He had enjoyed presenting himself as a macho working mechanic and had the feeling he would be able to get to know Julia better in that guise. Of course, he would tell her the truth, he promised himself, but maybe not right away. He felt like a kid anticipating Halloween.
Now Jay was showing Robin around his apartment. The living room was austere and modern, with lots of brass, plants and leather furniture. Robin gazed around, thinking the apartment might be just a bit ostentatious for a mechanic. But he could never take her to his own place; a home high in the beautiful Beverly Hills, with a spectacular view of the city. She would never believe the charade that he was a mechanic for one second. Robin had even dressed for the working-man role, in nice but worn jeans and a long sleeved black tee shirt.
Following Jay around the apartment, Robin looked into the kitchen. He was a little appalled. It could have belonged to a gourmet chief, with all kinds of hanging pots and pans over a large range with eight burners, next to an oversized microwave. Julia might get the mistaken idea he could cook. Whip her up a mean little dinner. It almost was dinner time and his stomach was growling. Maybe he could take Julia out for something to eat later.
The two men crossed the living room and Jay showed Robin the bathroom, and then a study. There were pictures of sports idols and sailing boats on the walls. Robin thought it could pass as a mechanic's pad, except for the law books and journals. They both worked quickly, turning the books around so the spines wouldn't show. They hid law journals under sporting magazines.
Then Jay ushered Robin, with a triumphant flourish, into the master bedroom. It was a typical but exaggerated bachelor's lair, with mirrors covering the sliding doors of the closets, directly opposite the bed. Robin was horrified to see that there were even mirrors on the ceiling, over an absolutely enormous, round bed with black satin sheets. Speakers stood on either side of the bed for easy access to mood music.
"This is really wonderful," Robin said to his friend sarcastically. "One look in here and she'll run, screaming out the door."
Robin was reminded of an old movie with Doris Day and Rock Hudson. The bedroom in Hudson's apartment had been decorated as a joke with doors that locked when the woman was safely trapped inside, music which went on automatically as soon as the doors locked, and a hidden bed that swung out, complete with garish harem curtains. This bedroom was almost as suggestive.
"Hey pal, I might be doing you a favor," Jay said. "You don't know. She may go for it."
Never in a million years, Robin thought, shaking his head. He closed the door firmly. He would never even let Julia near that seduction palace.
"I better get going," Jay said. "She'll be here any minute. You look around, so you can act like you live here."
"Hey, Jay, this is really great of you, you know?" Robin said as he waved his friend out the door.
"I'll come home early," Jay warned, turning around again to face his friend, "if you don't promise to tell all the grisly details."
"Sure, sure," Robin said. "Right."
"Just messing the covers on the bed won't be good enough. You promise now," Jay said, standing there obstinately, obviously not planning to leave until he had a firm oath from his friend. He was enjoying himself immensely, sensing Robin's uneasiness.
"I told you before, it's just a meeting."
"Uh huh," Jay said. He was ready to launch into another plea to get the information out of Robin, when he saw a sudden look on surprise on his friend's face. Jay turned around quickly and saw a woman emerging from the elevator. She was only the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Strawberry blond hair with very dark eyes and black eyebrows.
"Hi, Julia," Robin said. He was leaning against the door jam with his arms folded, like he owned the place. "I was just saying good-by to my friend, Jay. Jay...Julia," he said, in introduction as Julia walked toward them, nodding at each in turn.
Julia put out one delicate hand, shaking Jay's hand. Robin smiled at his friend, who looked stunned silly, like he had gone into a hypnotic trance.
"Jay and I have known each other for years. From work," Robin explained. "He was just leaving."
"Yeah," Jay said. He still looked dazed. "I work with the Old Hood all the time."
"Old Hood?" Julia repeated. Then she smiled. "A nickname? From Robin Hood?"
"Naw, the Old Hood here," Jay said slapping his friend, Robin, on the shoulder, "looked like a real hood in high school. You know, slicked his hair back with grease, rolled a pack of cigarettes in his shirt sleeve, and was always working on old cars. So we called him Hood. Not only did he look like a Hood, but he was always under the hood of some old hunk of metal."
Julia couldn't know Jay was joking and looked kind of stunned, herself, at the picture Jay had presented.
"Cleaned up his act real well, though," Jay went on. "You'd never guess he was the Drag Strip King, back when we were adolescent delinquents."
"That's quite enough, Jay," Robin said warningly. Jay could really pile the shit when he got started.
"Women just loved drag racing in his dangerous, hopped up, speed cars with him," Jay drawled, noting Robin's discomfort with immense satisfaction.
"Jay's exaggerating a bit," Robin said tightly.
"Yeah, miss the good old days," Jay said sadly, shaking his head and walking away. Waving good-by and smiling evilly at Robin.
Thanks loads old pal, Robin thought to himself cynically, as he followed Julia into the apartment. He could already tell that Julia had believed Jay's silly bantering. She was staying as far away from him as possible as they went into the living room. There was a definite chill in the air.
"Please sit down," Robin said, indicating a couch. "Jay really was kidding, you know."
"I'm sure," Julia said distantly. She sat down. He sat across from her on a chair.
"Oh, let me get you something. Coffee? A soft drink?"
"Whatever you are having," Julia said formally.
"Two coffee's coming up," Robin said cheerfully, but he didn't feel cheerful. This was a disastrous idea, meeting at Jay's place.
Julia watched Robin jump up from the couch like he was full of nervous energy and go into the kitchen. She was uncomfortable being alone with him in his apartment. He seemed much larger than she had thought, towering over her when they had walked into the apartment. His physical presence seemed to make the normal sized place quite small. Robin had an energy or presence that was almost breathtaking. And his outfit was extremely masculine. She could see the large muscles in his arms and chest in the black tee shirt. She supposed though, that most mechanics were in excellent shape, with flat stomachs. Her heart was beating much too fast, so she thought she must be a little fearful. But it was a silly response to a perfectly nice working man.
Suddenly she heard a loud bonging sound from the kitchen, and then muffled shouting, which sounded like a string of some profanity. It was rapidly stifled.
She got up quickly and walked to the doorway of the kitchen. Robin had evidently walked right into one of the hanging pans. He was holding his head like he was in pain. She looked at the pan. It was large and heavy and she wondered why he had hung the thing so low in his own kitchen. She almost ran toward him to see if he was all right, but he was moving swiftly.
Robin was oblivious that she was observing him. She watched as he started opening cabinets frantically, with his left arm. His right still covering his forehead. At first she thought he was so badly hurt that he was disoriented and couldn't find anything in his own kitchen. After a while she realized he really didn't know where anything was. He had found two cups and was looking through the cupboards for instant coffee, evidently. Robin finally found it, and then looked around frantically for something to boil water with. When he turned around he saw her.
"Can I help you?" Julia asked. "I heard you hit your head."
Robin gave her a dazzling smile and shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll be just another minute."
Julia went back into the living room and sat down. Poor guy probably lived in such a hovel that he had borrowed this apartment from a friend so he wouldn't be embarrassed. It was kind of sweet, but she still felt she might be in some danger from the large man. She thought back to the time when he had his special suit on, for appearing in court and wondered, first, if he was a robber or something. Jay, his friend, had mentioned that they both had been juvenile delinquents. She might be alone in an apartment with a master thief, or even something much worse. Maybe he was out on bail for some heinous crime.
On the other hand, she remembered that she had walked straight up to him after her brother's death and he had held her gently, just like she had needed at that moment in time. She couldn't believe he would do anything truly awful.
Robin was coming into the living room, holding two mugs of coffee. "I ran out of cream and sugar," he said apologetically.
Julia smiled at him, knowing he couldn't find it, "I always drink black."
The room seemed too small again, and much warmer. She wondered if he had so much masculine energy that it came off his body in waves of heat, because it felt like that. And the coffee was making her even warmer.
"As I said on the phone," Robin started, after he sat down and stared at her for an uncomfortably long period of time with extremely piercing blue eyes, "I think that your coming here is a bad idea. There may have been foul play involved in your brother's death. And from what I understood at the hospital, I don't think it was a mistake by the people who work there, or by the machines that were monitoring your brother's condition. The fact that you are here might put you in some danger."
Julia could see that he was going to go on with the tirade, so she put up her hand. But as she did so she was surprised again. He didn't talk like a mechanic. His use of the English language and his diction was perfect. He didn't belong in this apartment either.
"It's too late for that," Julia said. "I talked Mr. Quijada into letting me complete my brother's work. Now I'm going to find out what caused Brian's death."
Robin put his coffee on the table between them, leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, hands under his chin. He was looking at her face almost fiercely. She didn't know he was admiring the beautiful skin, and that he couldn't decide whether he liked her hair pulled back severely, as it was now, showing off all the contours of her face, or if he preferred the soft look she had when it fell to her shoulders.
"I guess it's time to trade information," Robin said, finally. "I'll tell you what you want to know, on the condition that you tell me your brother's last words. I will insist that you let me help you. I also insist that as soon as you get any information, you turn it over to the police and that you go directly back to Boston. Otherwise, I won't reveal what I know."
"I made an agreement already, with Mr. Quijada, that I would complete Brian's work. It will take a few weeks. And it's important to me. It is Brian's last work. I want his name on it. As author."
Julia could feel herself get a little teary. It was Brian's work. She would change it somewhat, she knew, but it would be the high quality that he himself would have been proud of.
"If there's a secret that Brian uncovered during the time he was working at Mr. Quijada's home, and it was that which accounted for his untimely death, then you have to leave as soon as you know."
"Not till the book's finished."
"Seems we've reached an impasse," Robin said, leaning back in the chair as though the conversation was finished.
A mechanic would not use the word impasse, Julia thought. "Just who are you?"
"A friend who really has your best interests at heart."
She could tell he meant it. "If that's true, Robin, you will tell me what you know, because I promise, I'll find out by myself, and use whatever means I have to."
"It won't bring your brother back," Robin said curtly. He was immediately sorry. He had forgotten that the funeral was yesterday. She looked stunned, like she might cry. Then her head was down and she was gazing into her coffee cup. He could see her long lashes blinking. "Forgive me. That was unkind. I just want you to be safe."
"Thank you for the sentiment," Julia said a little harshly. "And for the coffee."
She had put her cup down and was slinging her purse over her shoulder. It was fine for her to be angry with him, Robin thought as he watched her rise. It was the only thing that was keeping her from crying. He was impressed by her control. She had tears in her eyes, but was blinking rapidly as she got up, ready to leave.
Robin stood up too, a few feet away, towering over her. "Let's change the agreement, then. I'll tell you everything I know. And you will finish the work, if you see fit. Because I think this whole matter does have something to do with Quijada. I also believe you might choose not to finish the work, because of the things you find out. You may decide to write something completely different."
"Really?" She was sitting down again.
Robin nodded. "Also, if you need to cry, it's just fine. You have good reason. Now, who goes first?"
"I will, I have so little to say," Julia answered. She took a deep breath and described the scene in the hospital room. Brian had mentioned beautiful music several times. Then Julia described how he had seemed to be in some anguish. At first she was afraid he was in pain. Julia repeated the words Brian had spoken to her, about something being too small. And about heroines and little angels. Julia finished by telling Robin that it seemed like Brian had observed something he did not want to see, inadvertently. Whatever it was, it had upset him to the extent that he had spoken of it from the depths of a deep coma.
Robin nodded at her thoughtfully. "I'd like to know your impression of Aaron Quijada."
"As you know, I just left a meeting with him," Julia said. "He is charismatic, and enthusiastic about his work. But I also feel he's a very cold, calculating man. The meeting was strange because there must be quite a few people who work on an estate as large as his, but he answered the door himself, and I saw no one at all. No wife or children. And no domestic workers. Also, he surprised me because he's a blatant chauvinist."
"How do you mean?" Robin asked.
"He obviously didn't believe I could do the work. And then, when we finally agreed that I would, he tried to cut my salary. I had quoted a very modest fee for finishing Brian's book, and for doing extensive photographic work. I made the fee low, so I would get the job. It was much lower than the salary Brian was receiving. But he tried to cut it down even more, saying that I would just be putting Brian's work together."
"Not much respect for the female gender," Robin commented. "How did you resolve it?"
"I said, truthfully, that with the photographic supplies I would be using and the rental of a studio, which I will have to do here in Los Angeles, I couldn't make the salary any lower. In Boston, where I have my own dark room and equipment at my studio, I could have lowered the price. But he's in a hurry, and I can't go to Boston to finish the work. We have to send it to the publisher as soon as possible. So he finally, and very reluctantly, agreed to my price."
"Did he ask you if Brian spoke to you in the hospital?"
Julia nodded. "As I was leaving."
"That may have been the reason the two of you were alone. You answered 'no'." Robin didn't make it a question, as though it were the only reasonable way she could have answered.
"I have to find out what happened to Brian."
"Damn! You didn't tell him?" Robin seemed agitated. He got up and started pacing from the front door to the windows of the balcony. It took him about five strides on his long legs. He even pealed back the draperies and looked out, as though he thought they might be being watched.
"Not exactly," Julia answered, thinking that he looked like a lethal panther stalking around. "I implied that Brian had been speaking quite a bit before he died."
"I don't believe it," Robin said, shaking his head. He came back and sat down. He was looking at her fiercely again. "That was a stupid thing to do. And maybe suicidal. Do you want to end up dead, too?"
"I told you I'd find out what I needed to know," Julia said, angrily. She had given that response to Quijada on purpose, to force his hand.
"Now I believe it, when you said you'd find out by any means," Robin said.
"Your turn," Julia said.
"What?" Robin said. He seemed deep in thought.
Julia repeated the sentence.
"Oh. Yes. Well, I did go back to Cedars. I talked to some of the people there. Not the doctors and nurses that had direct control of Brian's medical care. Other people. And what I found out was that someone went into Brian's room, right after you left, dressed like a hospital orderly. The hospital staff is still trying to find out who it was. Anyway, during the time that person was in the room, there were changes in the machinery that was helping keep your brother alive. The oxygen was turned off. The machine that would have alerted the staff if Brian needed critical care was also disconnected, so that it would not make an alarm sound. The nurse at the front desk thought it was an electrical failure. Then both machines were turned back on again."
Julia had her hands over her eyes now, shaking her head back and forth.
"Do you want me to go on?"
She nodded but didn't remove her hands from her face.
"I was told that an autopsy was not performed. But needle marks were found on the body, before it was sent back to Boston. The hospital management is still conducting an investigation, trying to figure out exactly what happened during the minutes you were absent from your brother's room."
Julia looked up at him. "Charlotte, my grandmother, didn't want an autopsy. There was no indication that the death might not be natural. I mean, caused by something other than the beating."
Robin could see that Julia had to get her emotions under control. He picked up her cup and left the room, saying he would get fresh coffee. He told her to use the rest room if she wanted to.
Julia was grateful for his sensitivity and fled to the bathroom, where she splashed her face with water. She had come to find out the truth. Now she was shocked and horrified. What she had feared was true. Brian had been murdered. She now suspected that the brutal beating was not an attempt at theft, but a carefully plotted scenario. The only unplanned part of it was that Brian survived.
When Robin reentered the living room, he brought her a glass of water with the coffee. Julia appeared to be composed again. He resumed talking, but changed the focus from her brother, so she could remain objective and unemotional. "Let me tell you what I found out about Aaron Quijada. He is, first and foremost, a business man. He was a director of films in name only. He really is the money man, and from what I hear, he doesn't have an artistic or creative bone in his body. He's been described as a shark. He has some kind of unknown financial backing, although he has had no tax problems that I have heard of with the IRS. Still, he lives in a beautiful mansion, which he bought with cash."
Julia smiled. "I can understand him being called a shark. He has this unblinking stare. It's quite intimidating."
"He's famous for it. But he has been successful in several business ventures and has turned failing companies around, making them fabulously lucrative. Many people think he's a financial genius who can deliver California from its current financial woes."
"Maybe he would be good for California," Julia said, playing devil's advocate.
Robin was shaking his head. "Many people think so. It's a scary thought to me, now that I've done some research. Aaron Quijada is rumored to be a major player in the Mexican Mafia. That may be where his financial backing comes from. Their main business is the sale of heroin. Many of the gang fights in Los Angeles are over territory for the sale of heroin."
"Brian said 'little heroines’ several times," Julia remarked thoughtfully.
"I noticed. There's also Quijada's wife, who committed suicide some years back. There are allegations that he embezzled money from his own movie company, with tricky bookkeeping, which was supposed to go to the legitimate people backing the films, and to the actors and actresses. But he's so slick no one could figure out what happened. A woman friend of his died of unknown causes."
"You're trying to scare me," Julia said.
"People who deal drugs are violent and have no mercy. If Quijada is taking money, well, that's immoral, but if he's having people killed, that's something else altogether. He's a very frightening man. He also has this big dog, which accompanies him everywhere, and is known to have mauled a man almost to death."
"Bruno?"
"You've seen him?"
"I made friends with him. On purpose. I really liked the dog. He's just doing his job, guarding his master."
"Don't you trust him for a minute."
"The man or the dog?" Julia asked.
"Either one."
"How'd you get all this information? It couldn't be common knowledge, if the man is running for governor."
"It's not. I did some research," Robin said. He was not going to tell her that he had used two of his paralegals for the research on Quijada, all day yesterday, and that he himself had taken the day off to go to Cedars-Sinai Hospital to obtain the information he had given her.
"Your research is very impressive, for such a short time," Julia said. She looked around the room. If Robin did live in very low income housing and this place was borrowed for their meeting, she would have liked to offer him some money for the help he had already provided. He had gone to a lot of trouble, but she was afraid he would be insulted if she offered to reimburse him.
"I really don't carry mace," Julia said.
"I didn't think so," Robin said, smiling. "You should have something though. I do have a gun, but you would have to keep it concealed."
Julia shook her head in distaste. "I would probably shoot myself."
"I would offer my services, but it might be a little obvious."
"As a bodyguard?" She seemed to think it was a very funny idea.
Robin tried to look insulted, but he liked seeing her laugh. She had beautiful white teeth.
"Sorry," Julia said, when she sobered. "I can see you would make an excellent body guard, but I agree, it might be a little noticeable. I must say, though, you've gone to a lot of trouble to piece together this information. I'd like to pay you for the research."
"Damsels in distress are my hobby," Robin said, smiling and brushing it off. "But I will get you some pepper spray. It's not much against thugs who deal in drugs, but if that dog ever came after you it would be effective."
"Bruno evidently doesn't attack women."
"Consider the source of that information," Robin warned. "You'll be going to his home tomorrow. He'll try to pump you for more information, to see if you have any suspicions about Brian's death. It's essential that you don't let him think you do."
"I'll be careful," Julia said.
"All we know is that someone manipulated those machines at the hospital. I'll try to find out what kind of medical expertise that would take. Maybe it was a bribed hospital employee."
"The person may have disconnected the machines so Brian could be injected with heroin, if that's what they have available and Quijada's behind it. An overdose could be fatal, especially for someone in fragile condition."
"We could go to the police right now," Robin suggested.
"If we're wrong, it would be a horrible thing to do to Aaron Quijada. I don't want Brian exhumed for a postmortem autopsy unless it's absolutely necessary. It might kill my grandmother. She's very distraught. It was hard to leave her to come here. But I convinced her it was important to finish Brian's last work."
"Well, it might eventually evolve into a real police investigation. But first we have to get more evidence. We'll have to be careful, though, because he's a powerful man, and if he's not responsible, I agree, we don't want to make premature allegations. It would be unwise, considering his influential position in Los Angeles. And you have to be extremely careful when you're dealing with him. Maybe Brian will have left clues in his notes."
Julia nodded. "I think I'll be safe working there for a while. But if something happened to Brian, it could happen to you, too. You could be putting yourself in danger, just because you're helping me. For that reason I'll pay you for your time, at the very least. This might be hazardous duty."
If there had ever been a time to tell her he was a lawyer, it was now, Robin thought.
"I could hire a private detective," Julia said, when he hesitated. "They get about two hundred dollars a day, plus expenses for use of the car and, well, I don't know what else, really. If you want to go on with this investigation, I will insist."
She just might hire someone, Robin thought. But he knew he could do the work as well as any detective. He would probably be more discrete. No one would ever guess that he was involved, and Quijada might find out if she hired someone, which could put her in danger.
Robin smiled at her naivete. He usually received at least two hundred dollars an hour for his time as an attorney. "If you really insist, I'll accept your offer."
Robin didn't feel guilty about the money she would spend on him. He knew he was worth it. And Robin had not only done research on Aaron Quijada. He had looked into Julia's background. Her parents had died when she was very young and had left her a virtual fortune.
Robin thought her smile was just beautiful when he accepted her offer. He stood up and put out his hand to complete the contract, but he admitted it was mostly because wanted to touch her.
When Julia took his hand she felt a shock of electricity go through her whole body, like a quick wave of heat. His hand was very warm and felt large and substantial. Comforting somehow. It was odd. To cover her surprise at the strangely immediate physical reaction, Julia quickly asked him to show her around his apartment.
She had already seen the kitchen and bathroom, so Robin took her through the apartment, ending up in the office. She made nice comments about his pictures on the wall, saying that she was a sports fan also. Then she walked across the hall to the door of the bedroom.
"It's a mess in there. I would rather..."
She had already opened the door. She just stood there for a minute, and then she started giggling. He thought her reaction was charming. She didn't seem embarrassed at all and he wondered why. She conveyed the impression of being restrained and puritanical, and he was surprised.
She turned around and headed to the front door, still giggling.
"I have to go now." She finally had herself under control. "We should probably meet in a couple of days."
Robin forced himself to be serious after her funny reaction to that blatantly suggestive bedroom. They agreed to meet at a restaurant called Franklin's on Sunset Boulevard in two days.
Julia insisted on giving him a check before she left so that he could cover his expenses over the next couple of days. He put it in his pocket. He had no intention of cashing it.
When he closed the door, he went to the kitchen and frantically began searching for something alcoholic to calm his nerves. Julia had a very strange effect on him.