twenty-two

For a split second I thought he was going to kiss me. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the flush that spread across my cheeks. “They told you?”

“Yes. I got an earful from the building’s guards.”

“You didn’t tell David?”

Adam shook his head. “No. I’d really rather not. He’s got enough on his plate. What the hell were you thinking, Julia?”

I straightened up, doing my best to defend myself. “I wanted to prove to myself it was possible to get into the building undetected. And I was right.”

“And?”

“And what?” I knew what was coming.

“Julia, please. Don’t play games with me. You told the guards that someone else was on that floor.”

“Yes, there was someone there. And they attacked me in the dark. The lights went out and next thing I knew I was down on the floor. I managed to get into the elevator and get away.”

“Cripes.” Adam ran a hand through his hair. “That entry is supposed to be locked at eight o’clock at night and all weekend. My guy was making rounds of both floors all night. He never saw or heard a thing.”

“There are plenty of hiding places. More than you can imagine.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again. There’s a murderer on the loose and you could be the next target. Any idea who attacked you?”

I shivered. “No. All I heard was rustling and heavy breathing and I bolted for the elevator. I was afraid I’d be chased, but I wasn’t.”

“It could be any one of those people at the firm. It could be anybody. It doesn’t mean whoever it was is guilty of Jack’s murder, but they certainly had no business being there. Neither did you.” Adam’s hand still held my arm. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Was this concern, or was I detecting an attraction? It had been so long since I’d found any man attractive, I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to let my imagination run away with me.

“So … ” He straightened up. “I’ll carry two down at a time, if you can take this one.”

I helped Adam move the boxes from the closet and the office and stack them outside the door of Jack’s apartment. We made sure the door was locked behind us and after three trips up and down the stairs had managed to load all of the boxes into the trunk and back seat of Adam’s car. Returning to the Montgomery Street building, Adam drove down to B-level and parked near the entrance to the freight elevator. The same freight elevator that I’d been so unceremoniously expelled from the night before.

“You should go ahead up, Julia. I’ll take care of these and stack them by your desk.” He leaned toward me in the car, brushing away a stray wisp of hair from my forehead and looked into my eyes. “Julia … ” He hesitated. I wasn’t wrong. He was attracted to me and I couldn’t ignore what I felt. “When this is over …”

“Bad timing, huh?” My brain was short circuiting. How could I be having these feelings when I was still haunted by the image of Michael lying on the street?

“Maybe not bad timing, but it’s not quite the right time yet. Soon, though.” He smiled.

My face felt hot. I climbed out of the car. An agreement of sorts had been struck, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep up my end of the bargain. Opening that door brought thoughts of Michael, and that old hard stone that was still inside my chest. The prospect of an emotional involvement felt like driving a car a hundred miles an hour into a brick wall without a seat belt. I tried not to think about it. If only the rest of me would follow my head.

When I reached the 41st floor, Ira and Karen were still working in the litigation section. Karen was lining up large brown folders and inserting documents bound with rubber bands into each one. She looked up as I entered the room. “I thought you’d gone for the day.”

“No. I had an errand to do for David. What are you up to? That looks like a big project.”

“Oh, I’m just trying to organize all these files now that Jack’s …” Karen hesitated. “I don’t know what else to do. I mean, I thought it would be a good idea, since one of the other attorneys will have to take over.”

I couldn’t think how to respond. Karen obviously needed something to keep her busy. “This morning …” I hesitated. “When Nora was shouting in Suzanne’s office. Before the police came. What was that all about?”

“I heard that too, and I’m not really sure, myself. Whatever’s going on with Suzanne, it’s none of Nora’s business anyway,” Karen grumbled. “She can be such a bitch!”

“Was Nora after Jack? Was it jealousy, maybe?”

Karen looked at me blankly. “I don’t think Nora liked Jack very much. I think she was afraid of him.”

“Afraid? Why?”

Karen stopped bundling her documents for a moment. “I don’t know, really. It’s just an impression. It’s as though he held something over her head.” She grew quiet for a moment, casting her mind back. “At least, that was always the feeling I had.”

Now that we were alone, this was an opportune moment to satisfy my curiosity. “I noticed you talking to Billy, the messenger guy, in the hall the other day.”

She shot me a dark look. “What are you asking?” Her tone of voice had changed. She was suddenly on her guard.

“Well, it looked like you had your heads together and you were whispering. I was just curious.”

“Billy’s a friend. We have lunch together sometimes. We live in the same building. Besides, I don’t think it’s any of your business,” Karen grumbled. “And if you’re wondering where we were when Jack was killed, we were both at home. The police have taken our statements.”

“I didn’t mean that at all, Karen. I was just asking …”

“We both live at the Hartford Arms on Sutter. We have rooms there, okay? And at least five other people can vouch for us if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I was familiar with the Hartford. It’s a convenient residence hotel, centrally located. People can stay temporarily or long-term for an extremely reasonable rent. In fact, it’s probably the best deal in town. A guest gets a room and two meals a day, plus phone, computer hookup, and a rec room.

“So you both live there?”

“Yeees, we both live there. Is there anything else you want to know? Otherwise, I’m done here.” There was a momentary flash of anger in her eyes that contradicted her usual manner. She turned and walked through the door of Ira’s office, shutting it more than firmly behind her. I can take a hint. I left and walked down the hall to David’s office. Adam had just stepped into the reception area. I glanced around and noticed that all the boxes we’d retrieved were stacked next to my desk.

“I’ve got to head back to the office to take care of a couple of other clients but I’ll come back in a few hours. Will you still be around?”

“As long as David’s here. I’m going to spend some time reading through the transcripts and pleadings in that case we were talking about.”

“I wish you luck.” His expression seemed to say he doubted I’d learn anything of value.

I stuck my head into David’s office. “I’m back.”

He looked up and nodded in a distracted manner. I was grateful Adam hadn’t told him about the events of last night. I really didn’t feel like being lectured. I vowed I’d find the right moment to tell David about it. I shed my coat, dumped my purse on the desk, and lifted the lid of the first box from Jack’s apartment. It held four expanding files full of handwritten notes on long yellow legal sheets and two folders of legal research on issues of law. Pretty dry stuff, much of it copies of cases against insurers heard before appellate courts. The second box was crammed with relevant court pleadings, starting with the initial complaint. The third box contained trial transcripts and deposition transcripts. That might be more revealing.

I scanned the pleadings that were available. Other than the initial complaint filed on behalf of the janitor’s widow, Rebecca Moulton, the litigation that followed over the next several years didn’t appear to reference her or her husband. These copies weren’t the complete file, but they were the salient ones that would have been important to Jack.

Rebecca Moulton, the wife of Max Moulton, the janitor killed in the blaze, had been paid a settlement early on. Her agreement was signed a year after the initiation of the lawsuit. The case had continued for several years after that, as each party or insurer was dismissed from the lawsuit. The fire had been particularly tragic because the employees in the building ignored the fire alarm, assuming it was a test. Fire exits had been blocked by trash bags collected by the cleaning crew and this resulted in the inability of Max Moulton, the young janitor, to escape the blaze. Who was his widow? She would still be young. Did they have children? Was she left alone to cope with the death of her husband? Did she have family in San Francisco to help her through? No doubt she’d been grief-stricken, but was she consumed with an illogical rage? Could she have focused her anger at anyone connected with that disaster, no matter how tenuous the connection?

The last box contained more trial transcripts and the depositions of Fire Chief Herbert Belding and Arson Inspector Ted Warren, both of whom had been witnesses at trial. They testified that the fire had started from a short in the work done by the electrical contractor, Terrence Ward. Improper insulation leading to a circuit box had been the culprit. It was clear from reading the transcript that Jack had pounded it into the jury’s mind that the negligence of the electrical contractor was to blame. Reading through the exam and the cross-exam, I could almost visualize the exchange in the courtroom. Ward was tongue-tied, he stumbled, he made excuses and backtracked in his story. The man had been demolished and ripped apart under Jack’s questioning. The transcript was damning.

I’d settled in on the sofa with the files spread out around me. Engrossed in my reading, I’d lost all track of time. I checked the clock. Almost six. David must still be in, but his office was unnaturally quiet. I stacked up the files I’d read in one pile on the floor and put the others on the desk. I planned to repack the boxes when I was finished. I tapped on David’s door and walked in. He was staring at his cell phone and jumped when he saw me.

“Oh, Julia. You’re still here? I thought you would have gone by now.”

“I’ve been reading Jack’s old files about the bank fire.”

“You still think that’s related?”

I shrugged. “It certainly could be.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“Well, yes and no.” Before I had a chance to say anything further, David interrupted.

“Listen, Adam’s on his way up. What do you say we call it a day and grab some dinner. Can you join us?”

Dinner sounded great. I was starving. “I’d love to. Where are we going?”

“How about we walk up to North Beach and grab something there? I’ll let you pick the restaurant. You know all the best ones.”

“Let’s go to Franco’s. I haven’t been there for a while.”

Adam tapped on the door and joined us. “Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hi.” I felt my cheeks warm. I hoped David hadn’t noticed. “I guess we’re heading to North Beach for dinner. I’ll get my things.”

The three of us walked in single file down Montgomery Street, doing our best to avoid the crowds pouring out of office buildings and heading to bus stops. At the Broadway-Columbus intersection, North Beach was brightly lit and every street log jammed with traffic. A local group of Chinese musicians playing traditional instruments had taken over the wide sidewalk by the traffic lights. We joined the crowd and listened to their exotic music for a few minutes. Adam dropped a five dollar bill into a basket and we continued on our way to Franco’s.

The doorway was wide open. Inside, pots of geraniums stood on the windowsill and strands of woven garlic hung from the ceiling. The décor is a little tacky but the incredible food more than makes up for the interior. I was instantly hungry. We were the first diners of the evening and had Franco’s complete attention.

“Julia, comé stai, cara?” Franco is a dark-haired, stocky man in his fifties who runs his restaurant with the help of his wife, son, and daughter. He likes to serenade his customers while they eat. It’s often hard to dine and keep a straight face. What Franco lacks in singing talent, however, he makes up for in sheer force of personality. He also makes the most fantastic tortellini in Alfredo sauce.

“Bene, et tu? Et tua moglie?” I replied.

“Molto bene. Grazie.”

Adam held out a chair for me. “Friend of yours?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ve known Franco for years. I grew up just a few blocks away.”

“Ah, so I can’t impress you with my knowledge of North Beach restaurants, I guess.”

“No need to.” We smiled at each other and I could feel my cheeks grow yet warmer. This was not lost on Franco, who discreetly bustled away to the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of Pinot Grigio and three wineglasses. The specialty of the evening was rotelli alla gamberi, a squiggly pasta served with shrimp in a lemon and white wine sauce. I opted for my favorite, after the tortellini Alfredo, that is—broccoli tortellini in a creamy marinara sauce.

David said, “This is fantastic. I’m sorry we have to spoil it with shop talk tonight.”

“It’s probably a good idea if we do most of our talking away from the firm anyway,” Adam replied.

“So, Adam,” David began, “what have you been able to learn? Have the police come up with anything?”

Adam reached for the wine bottle and poured some into each of our glasses. “The police have told me that Karen Jansen came into the building on Sunday. She’d agreed to work a few hours that day. She’d called Jack earlier and her phone records back up her call. She came in around three fifteen. She says that when she got to the office, Jack had changed his mind and told her he didn’t need her after all.”

“What? She told me today she was at her residence all day,” I said.

“Well, she lied. She was in the office. She said nothing unusual happened. Jack was grumpy and insisted he didn’t need help. She left and walked home. She swears Jack was alive when she left. We know Nora Layton was supposed to come into the office to talk to him about the case they’re working on, but she called him and claims he decided there was no need.”

Franco returned to our table with a huge tray of steaming dishes. We fell silent as he served each plate. Adam waited a discreet moment before speaking. “The police checked Suzanne’s parking record. She arrived at 4:15 and left at 4:35. She says she found Jack, already dead, in his office. But that’s twenty minutes. Seems like a long time to just walk in, discover Jack, and leave.”

“Not really,” I replied. “Maybe she parked on a lower level and had to wait for the elevator up to A-level and then went to the other bank to take an elevator to the 41st floor. Plus she’d have to sign in at the guards’ console.”

“Maybe,” Adam conceded reluctantly. “There’s one more thing. Roger admitted to being in the office Sunday too. He drove in, so it was easy to check. He didn’t speak with Jack. He just needed to pick something up from his office and left, he said. But he did see Karen leaving and Jack was still alive.”

“Did Suzanne see anybody else while she was there?” I asked.

“No. The police have taken her statement and she says she saw no one. She was pretty upset when they questioned her. The other known entry to the building was a delivery guy from Giuseppe’s Pizza. That was on the up-and-up apparently because the security guard even called up to the office on the 16th floor before he let the guy up to deliver the pizzas.”

I decided this might be the opportune moment to fess up to David. I took a deep breath. “Listen, last night I got into the building and up to the 41st floor without being seen by the guards. They caught up with me as I was trying to leave, but I did make it up there without their knowing.”

“Why did you do that?” David sputtered. “That could have been dangerous.”

“Please don’t be upset. I had a bee in my bonnet about it and just decided to check.”

“David’s right, Julia,” Adam remarked softly.

David turned to Adam. “You knew about this?”

Before Adam could answer, I said, “I know you’re both right, but I couldn’t resist. There’s a truck tunnel used for deliveries that connects to two other buildings. One on Sutter and one on Market.”

“That’s right,” David remarked. “I’d forgotten about that. You mean the tunnel door to our building wasn’t shut?”

“Nope. Interesting, isn’t it? Adam told me it’s supposed to be closed at eight o’clock during the week and all weekend, but each guy thought the other had taken care of it.”

“So, it’s possible the same thing happened on Sunday?” Adam asked.

“Could be. If the metal door was up for a Saturday delivery, maybe the guards didn’t even think to check it on Sunday.”

“They’re supposed to make rounds on all four parking levels at some point in their shift,” Adam said angrily.

“Hey, the reality is maybe they don’t and say they do,” I replied. “Anyway, I just wanted to prove to myself that it was possible, that’s all. But there’s more.”

“More?” David asked.

“Somebody else was there. In the litigation section. I heard something, and then I was hit and knocked down.”

“Julia, what did I tell you?” David’s face grew red. “You’re making yourself a target and you could have been really hurt. I think the police ought to know about this.”

“Listen to me, David. What’s more important is that one of the guards went down to B level to close off the tunnel while the other one escorted me to my car. So, whoever was in the office that night couldn’t possibly have left the building without being seen.”

“This is sounding like Phantom of the Opera. You mean someone might have been inside all night?”

“Sure, why not? I already told you what I think. There’s a good chance our murderer is a female, perhaps even an employee.” David remained silent, but he looked uncomfortable.

“And where does this come from?” Adam asked.

I hesitated for a moment. “Adam, I’m not really a legal secretary. I mean, I used to be. I used to work for David a couple of years ago, but I have my own business now. I’m an astrologer.”

“An astrologer?” Adam’s incredulity was obvious and both eyebrows went up.

“Yes.” I watched his face carefully as he digested the information. “I have my own business. I have a private clientele, I lecture, and I’ve published a few things.” I heard a defensive tone creeping into my voice.

Adam was silent. David smiled. “And I’m one of her clients,” he said. “I can vouch for Julia. I wasn’t a believer either, but she’s turned me into one.”

“Well …” Adam trailed off. I could see the surprise on his face.

“Trust me, it works,” I said. “David and his family have been clients of mine for some time.”

Adam shrugged. “Well, it’s one way to come up with clues. I can’t knock it. I don’t have anything better. I’m planning on checking up on the Deklon Management guys. The two charming Farraday brothers. Find out what they’ve been up to lately.”

I realized belatedly that I hadn’t asked Adam for his birth information. I was as negligent as Gale. If I asked now, it would be obvious to David why I was asking. I’d have to wait for an opportune moment. “Oh, Adam, before I forget, the plaintiff in the Bank case … her name was Rebecca Moulton.”

Adam pulled a small notebook and pen out of his jacket pocket. “How do you spell that? M-O-U-L-T-O-N?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll try to find out where she is or whatever happened to her.”

When the dinner plates were cleared away, we ordered espresso. I knew I’d need the caffeine to wake up after the heavy meal and be able to concentrate on charts. As we left Franco’s, the bells in the twin towers of Saints Peter and Paul across the park were chiming the eight o’clock hour.

“Julia, do you need a ride home?” Adam asked. His smile was warm and suggestive. David glanced over at me. I could feel a blush starting and turned away. Adam’s interest was flattering, but I wasn’t appreciating the thought bubble I could see over David’s head. I’m a very private person. Was I ready to get involved with anyone? No matter what, I didn’t want to have to explain myself.

“No need. My car’s in the garage.”

“I’ll walk you to your car in that case. Doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” Adam replied.

The night was chill and damp. The streets glistened with moisture that reflected the garish neon signs along Columbus. Most of the restaurants had cleared their outdoor seating in deference to the cold while diners stayed warm behind plate-glass windows overlooking the sidewalk. We reached the corner of Kearny and Sutter, where the streets were now silent and deserted. Sandwiched between David and Adam, I could feel the warmth from Adam’s body and detect a hint of aftershave. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a man in a very long time. Maybe I’d just been dateless for far too long. We entered the building from the street level using David’s building card, and, in unison, glanced up at the security cameras by the front doors. David pushed the down button to A-level on the elevator console.

“We’ll have to sign in and out before we can go down to the levels where we’ve parked our cars,” David remarked. Sure enough, as we stepped out of the elevator, the building guard approached us. This was a different man from the ones I’d encountered the night before. I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I’d confessed my explorations to David and Adam, I didn’t particularly want to remind them of the incident. The guard recognized David but asked that he, as well as Adam and I, sign in for the few minutes we were in the building. I was relieved to see that the guards weren’t leaving anything to chance, and I was willing to bet that the steel door to the truck tunnel was closed and locked tonight.

David spotted his car immediately as soon as we exited the elevator on B-level. Mine was against the far wall, tucked into a corner. We said good night to David as he pulled out of his space and drove up the ramp. Adam followed me across the parking area to my car. I fumbled in my purse for the keys and unlocked the driver’s side door. I turned to say good night, but Adam was standing so close I had to look up at his face. His hand rested on the small of my back. He pulled me close and bent down to kiss me. Intense warmth spread through my body and I silently prayed that my cheeks were not bright red.

“When this is over, Julia”—he hesitated—“I hope you feel the same.” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come. I thought, Julia, you idiot, he can read you like a book. Adam smiled slowly and took a step back. “Do you have a long drive?

“No,” I managed to mumble, “just out to the Avenues.” I bundled myself as gracefully as possible into the Geo and turned the key. Adam stood by as I backed out and drove off.

I headed straight home and parked in front of my building, again too tired to put the car away. I took a deep breath. The taste of Adam’s lips still lingered, but when I closed my eyes, I saw the image of Michael’s body lying on the street. I shuddered and did my best to push that thought out of my head. I wanted to remember Michael as he was when he was alive and vital. My ribs were still sore from the attack last night, and tension was making my neck ache. I climbed the front stairs, shed my coat, and threw it over the kitchen chair with my purse. I’d planned to work on the charts a little longer, but knew I wouldn’t be able to focus.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled a wine glass off the rack. I dropped two ice cubes into the glass and filled it with Merlot. I know you’re supposed to drink red wine at room temperature, but wine aficionado that I am, I don’t care. I like it with ice cubes. I fell into the big armchair in my living room, propped my legs on the ottoman, and hit the TV remote. Wizard was curled up in a ball in the other chair and lifted his head to acknowledge my presence. He climbed down and took up a position on my lap. I’d spent two days running around in circles and had accomplished absolutely nothing.

I channel-surfed until I found something that suited my mood. One of my favorites was playing—a grade B sci-fi from the fifties. The hero wore an Army uniform and the heroine’s tight sweater displayed jutting breasts. The film was close to the end because the irradiated octopus had wrapped its tentacles around the Golden Gate Bridge and the Army was making its last stand. I downed my wine, wondering where I’d find the energy to walk the hallway to my bed when the phone rang. I reached over and picked it up.

“Julia, it’s me.” David’s voice came over the telephone.

“David?”

“I’m sorry to call. It’s worse news. I’m at the building with the police. They’ve found Ira. He’s dead.”