Marshall picked it up. Some kind of sending unit, definitely. The technology had moved on since his day. Improved slenderness, and improved longevity he guessed. This was more compact than the stuff he was used to. You could just about swallow it with water if you needed to.
He said, ‘Where was it?’
‘In his car, the glove compartment.’ She shrugged. ‘I told you I couldn’t sleep. I found that at about four a.m. Nevins said he was going to look at Ray’s office first and then come back for the car, and, you know, just made me think: what’s so interesting about the car?’ She smiled faintly. ‘That might be a start, anyway.’
He held it flat on his palm for inspection. It was edged thinly with rubber. Maybe for shock absorption, or maybe so people thought they were buying something Pentagon-approved.
Hannah said, ‘I turned the power off. I thought they might assume the battery died.’
‘Who knows about it?’
She shrugged. ‘Me, you, whoever put it there.’
‘What about the cop on scene guard?’
‘All he knows is I got in Ray’s car last night and then got out again.’ Her mouth downturned, innocent. ‘Maybe I was getting a phone charger.’
Marshall opened his coat and dropped the device in a pocket. ‘Can I hold on to this?’
‘It’s already in your pocket.’
He didn’t answer. He leaned back in his chair, and for a moment when he looked down, he could see the material of his shirt bouncing minutely, a tiny amplitude in time with his heartbeat. He realized too he could hear it in his ears: the thud of growing anger. He took a breath and released it gently, let himself grow still and quiet and calm, and in the absence of other things there remained the certainty and the clarity about what he was going to do.
He said, ‘If they were tracking both vehicles, there’ll be a device in your car, too. The police probably have it by now, and they’re going to wonder why there isn’t one in Ray’s car when they search it.’
Hannah said, ‘Do you still want it?’
Marshall nodded. ‘Yes. I just want you to keep in mind they’ll be asking about it.’
‘It might not be an issue. They might assume Ray found it and got rid of it. But why do they need both, anyway? They can have one, and you can have the other.’ Looking at him carefully. ‘See who gets answers first.’
Marshall didn’t answer.
Hannah said, ‘I was so relieved when you showed up. Last night, I mean. Police will do their job, say “thoughts and prayers” and that kind of thing, but you’re the only one who needs to know what happened. I mean … you’re the only one who wasn’t paid to show up.’ She shook her head, took a moment putting something together in her head. She said, ‘It wasn’t debts. Why would he be killed over a debt? You can’t pay when you’re … you know. He’s not going to be paying anyone now, is he?’
He didn’t want to answer that, no point taking her deeper into the gloom.
He said, ‘Was he having any health trouble?’
‘He was drinking a lot. Other than that, I don’t know. I think if he did have anything, the bullet would’ve cured it.’
He wasn’t sure whether to smile or not.
She shut her eyes, shook her head briefly. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Why do you ask?’
‘He had a parking receipt from Maimonides Hospital.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah. I know what that was. A friend of Ella’s – Jennifer Boyne. It was terrible. She committed suicide. Her parents asked Ray to look into it. I think they were worried there’d been some encouragement. Bullying, maybe. In the end, he didn’t find anything. It was just one of those awful tragedies. No note or anything. It was … well, it was funny actually. It was like they saw a different side of him. Her parents, I mean. He wouldn’t take any money because they knew Ella, and they thought he was just the sweetest, most generous guy. All these different sides to him, you know? One of them’s got all the others in trouble.’
Marshall let that one slide past him. He found that was the thing with encouragement. You had to hang back, really go in hard when you saw an opening.
He said, ‘I know Nevins asked you this last night, but can you remember any specifics about what else Ray was working on?’
‘Well, like I said, it was mainly office-based stuff, I think. Fraud and auditing. But … I remember six, seven months ago I guess it was, he was hired by a gallery owner. Sounded like a vaguely interesting one. Upper East Side. Something like … I can’t quite remember the details. I think there were two owners, and one guy was worried the other was using sales to launder drug money.’
‘And was he?’
‘I don’t know. Like I say, Ray wouldn’t talk shop with me. But I’d hear him on the phone now and again, and put things together. The other one I can remember – you know that company Plethora? Online shopping?’
‘I’ve heard of it. Like Amazon, right?’
‘Sort of, yeah. One of their executives, his wife hired Ray to find out if he was cheating on her. He was worth like two billion dollars or something, and I think Ray was following him for a while, taking photos.’ She smiled. ‘I think he actually got some good ones in the end. Ray had a guy helping him with it. Ex-cop. Jordan … Mora, I think?’
As in Jordan Mora Investigations. The business card he’d taken from the side table last night.
Marshall said, ‘I’ll see if I can call him. He might have some more details.’
‘Right, sure. Ray probably has his number somewhere …’
The phone in the hallway rang, and she went through to answer it.
He heard her say, ‘Vialoux,’ and then, ‘Oh, yes. Good morning.’
Stilted, a bit too formal. The kind of thing you’d say when a police detective calls to talk about your dead husband. Marshall didn’t want to sit there, feeling like an eavesdropper. He got up and went through to the kitchen. Ella was still in there, at the table. She had a vial of something colorless raised to the light, a hypodermic syringe inserted in its base. That’s right: diabetes. Hannah had mentioned it last night.
He said, ‘Sorry. I’ll leave you to it.’
She caught him mid-turn as he was going out the door: ‘Don’t worry. Medicine, not drugs.’
He thought he’d handled things quite well, coming in and then heading straight out again, giving her privacy, but now her reply had trapped him. He couldn’t walk off and leave her hanging. But small talk had never been Marshall’s forte, and there was more at stake now: he didn’t know what avenues of conversation were open, given the context. Murder shuts things down. The part of his brain in charge of interactions was telling him to say something, but the speech department wasn’t giving him anything usable. It was all inane and awkward.
He was still standing there, not saying anything.
She looked at him.
Marshall said, ‘You and your dad both had it, huh?’
That wasn’t too bad. But it had been easier talking with Nevins last night, trading clipped lines with no feelings at stake. Too much to navigate, here.
She said, ‘Yeah. Awesome coincidence.’
Behind him in the entry hall, he heard Hannah wrapping up her call.
Ella kept her attention on her task, flicking the syringe to encourage bubbles back up into the vial, and now Marshall had something. He knew he should’ve opened with this line, gone in strong and simple: He said, ‘I just wanted to let you know, your dad was a friend of mine, and I’m going to do my absolute best to find out what happened.’
Nothing.
He said, ‘If you want to talk sometime, or if you need anything, you’re welcome to give me a call. Your mother has my number.’
She removed the syringe from the base of the vial, touched the plunger to bring a pearl of fluid to the tip of the needle.
Still not looking at him.
She said, ‘Well, that makes me feel a million times better. I’ll keep that in mind.’
From behind him: ‘Ella, that’s so rude. Apologize, please.’
Marshall stepped out and headed for the front door. ‘No, don’t worry. Forget it.’
‘Ella, for God’s sake. He’s trying to help.’
Marshall said, ‘Hannah, honestly, it’s fine. I was just on the way out …’
‘Her attitude, I’m serious. Last thing I need …’
She came past him raking her hands through her hair, biting her lip, appearing in every sense to be right at the limit. She opened the front door and stood outside on the top step. Marshall gave it a moment before he joined her. He scanned the street. The scene was basically unchanged. A few cars had been replaced, but they were all clear-windowed and vacant.
She said quietly. ‘They burned his office.’
‘What? When?’
She shook her head, eyes shut. ‘Last night. That was Nevins on the phone. Someone burned his office. Ray’s office. They poured gasoline over everything and burned it. Even the file cabinets. He said they opened the cabinets and poured gasoline on his files. There’s nothing left. He said it’s … they burned everything.’
‘What time was this?’
‘He said around half-past ten. They must have …’ She bit her lip, looked at the sky. ‘They must’ve shot him and then gone to his office. It’s just up in Park Slope. It’s a street-front unit. He said they just broke the glass and went in.’ She shook her head. ‘All he had, it was just a desk and a computer and some papers. It’s like … was it not enough that he’s dead? Have to destroy his office, too …’
She raked her hands through her hair again, face distorting with the strain. She whispered, ‘Why would they do that?’
He had a theory, something along the lines of what he’d told Nevins last night, that Vialoux had more problems than just a gambling debt.
He said, ‘Battery life on those trackers probably isn’t long. Maybe a week, something like that.’
Hannah said, ‘Five days on that model, on average. I googled it. Depends how much the car’s moving. I think when it’s stationary they go dormant, essentially.’
‘So if it still had power when you found it, it must have been placed recently, maybe only a few days ago.’
‘But it was just in the glove compartment.’
‘Right. So you need to think carefully about where the cars have been during the past week, and we might be able to work out who had access to them.’
She didn’t answer.
Marshall said, ‘Two options. The device was either planted by someone who broke in, or someone who was a passenger.’
‘A passenger? What, you think we know them?’
‘Ray definitely did. He knew who put the contract out, anyway. So we need to know who he’s given rides to.’
‘Well, I’ve no idea. He used my car all the time.’
‘We can still try to narrow it down. Depending what days he used your car.’
She said, ‘Is it a crime, giving it to you? The tracker?’
He thought about that. At the very least, he was in a legal gray area. He said, ‘The only thing I’m worried about is who shot Ray. If that’s your position, too, I think we’re good to go. I’ll hold on to it for a day, talk to some people. If I don’t get anywhere, I’ll give everything to Nevins.’
This far in, he was pretty sure that was the truth. That was his honest intention right now, anyway.
He said, ‘Don’t go out today. Keep the doors locked. If anything looks off, call the police.’
‘You think they’re still watching?’
Marshall didn’t answer that. He said, ‘We’ll find out what’s going on.’
He’d told her that a few times now, maybe not in those words, and the look she gave him as she stepped inside seemed to reinforce the fact. Like getting answers needed to be a case of when and not if. He waited for the sound of the bolt sliding home, and then he turned and walked away.