Killer

CHAPTER 29

I waited an hour before phoning Efren, left a message I knew he wouldn’t return.

What, like a exercise? Worm gym class?

Legally, ethically—technically—I’d done the right thing steering him away from revenge. That didn’t stop me from feeling out of touch.

In a simple world I’d stalk and kill Ramon Guzman myself. Tossing in the two would-be hit men who’d been bargaining for the privilege of ending my life.

Same fate for Connie Sykes, who started the mess. If Ree had taken care of that, I should be cheering her on, not aiding in finding her.

Meanwhile, I’d damaged my relationship with Efren, probably beyond repair. In the jungle he prowled, nuance was a felony.

I was wondering what to do about all of that when my service rang in with a message from Judge Nancy Maestro. Would I be downtown in the near future for a “chat”?

I phoned her chambers. A female bailiff said, “She’s in session, sir.”

“Will she be out at four thirty, as usual?”

“Give me your name again, sir.”

I complied and repeated the question.

“She’s over on Commonwealth, sir, you can try there.”

The court building on Sixth and Commonwealth handles big-time corporate litigation. Maybe Nancy was finally transitioning to the white-collar trials she craved. The first clerk I spoke to had no idea who she was and I got nudged along a chain of civil servants before a familiar male voice said, “Deputy Nebe.”

The tight-ass I’d met at probate court.

Today, he sounded more human. “Doctor, thanks for getting back. Unfortunately, Judge got tied up in meetings, will be back in chambers tomorrow.”

Newfound warmth. Maybe he was getting a promotion, too.

“I can drop by in the afternoon.”

“Would one p.m. work for you?”

“Sure.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll tell her.”

At twelve forty-five the following day, I was nearing Grand Street when Nancy reached my cell. “Glad I caught you. Listen, I’m running late, got stuck having lunch over in Little Tokyo. Any way you could find your way here? If you haven’t eaten, it’s on me.”

“Yes, on both counts.”

She directed me to Ocean Paradise, a place on First Street that I already knew. Second floor of a smallish shopping center erected back when Japan was considered a financial threat. Decent eateries, schlocky souvenir shops, an old-school sushi bar. From time to time, I’d stopped there when testifying downtown.

The ensuing years had left the structure wilted and rain-streaked with a serious vacancy rate, including the space that had housed the sushi joint. One advantage: cheap, ample parking, and I was heading toward Nancy’s corner booth ten minutes later.

Ocean Paradise was a small, overly lit room smelling of broiled fish and seawater. A live tank featured dark squiggly things. Nancy was drinking Perrier and chopsticking a bowl of rice topped with crunchy, spiderish pinwheels.

The place was mostly empty, save for three older Asian women and a pair of tan uniforms stationed at a center table. Deputy Nebe, his bronze-lensed glasses at his right elbow, sat across from a woman around his age. Thin but chesty with curly gray hair and rimless glasses, she chewed on a piece of maki. When she saw me she grinned and waved and I realized she was also a bailiff I’d seen before. Gregarious woman assigned to custody court, trying to make everyone feel comfortable during times of stress. I’d never bothered to learn her name.

She kept smiling.

I detoured over.

The woman’s badge said, W. Nebe. Sergeant stripes on her sleeves.

She said, “Hey, Doc, so now you know the entire family. Has Hank been nice to you?”

“He’s been great.”

“Sure he has.” She laughed.

Hank Nebe smiled weakly.

“Anyway, nice to see you again, Doc. You slated for any testimony with us in the near future?”

“Nothing at the moment.”

“Lucky you, it’s been crazy. Enjoy your lunch.”

I sat down opposite Nancy. She said, “You know Willa?”

“I’ve seen her in court.”

“She and Hank are an example for all of us, been married forever.”

“Sometimes it works.”

“You happily wed?”

“Been with the same woman for a long time.”

“But no paper, huh?” she said. “That’s the way it is, nowadays. Gays crave the legitimacy, everyone else wants nothing to do with it. Myself, I wouldn’t mind the paperwork, just never found anyone after I ditched the first loser.”

She motioned to a waitress and said, “Menu?”

I said, “Not necessary,” and when the woman came to the booth, I ordered green tea and a few pieces of sashimi.

Nancy looked at her bowl. “Meanwhile, you can share this.”

“What is it?”

“Baby octopus. Kind of brutal, I suppose. Poor little things never had a chance. Which you could say about kids who end up as pawns.”

I laughed.

“People are so fucked up,” she said, with sudden fire. “I guess if you can’t tolerate it don’t go into my profession. Or yours. Especially yours. How do you deal with it?”

“Do the best I can, then make sure I have an outside life.”

She thought about that, seemed to turn gloomy. My food came and that snapped her out of her funk. “Bon appétit. So why did I ask to talk to you? Because crazy Connie Sykes wanted to have me assassinated and I recently found out she’s been murdered. As you can see, that could complicate my life at an extremely inopportune time.”

“The promotion to white collar.”

“Waiting for the promotion to be finalized — talk about legal limbo. Meanwhile, there’s all sorts of nonsense to go through, that’s what I was doing at Commonwealth, yesterday.”

“Interviewing?”

“Paying homage to the presiding. Big-money cases are a different universe, Alex. Wider in scope, more serious consequences. And with the Feds looking at everything nowadays, the slightest hint of impropriety can be an issue. Not that I’ve done anything wrong vis-à-vis crazy Dr. Connie.”

I said, “She tried to kill me, too.”

Her chopsticks faltered. A baby cephalopod tumbled to the table, rolled a bit, stopped belly-up. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was.” I told her about the attempted hit.

“Shit,” she said. “What a maniac.” She shot me a crooked smile. “Are you the one who got her? Just kidding.”

I ate a piece of sashimi.

“Sorry, I’m just jangled. She actually wanted both of us? Anyone else on her hit list?”

“Not that I know about.”

“Wow. I need to get my head around this — what the hell was the matter with her?”

“Obviously lots.”

“C’mon, be specific, you’re the expert.”

“I didn’t evaluate her in depth, Nancy.”

“Why not?”

“All I needed to know for your case was that her claim had no merit. Didn’t take long to discover that.”

“Obviously. Crazy lunatic — talk about a waste of court time. You have no idea how much stuff I see in probate that’s utter crap, people filing paper just because they can. I can’t wait to be out of there.”

Lifting the fallen octopus, she regarded it with what might have been compassion. Then her face got hard and she popped it into her mouth, chewing audibly. Wiped her lips. “So, what have the cops learned so far, Alex? About the late, unlamented Connie.”

“Not much.”

“If there was much, would you tell me?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“How close to the vest the cops wanted it.”

Her head flicked back. Her smile was icy. “Fair enough, Alex. But just tell me one thing: Is there a chance this is going to blow up in my face?”

“Why would it?”

“What I just said: the merest hint of impropriety.”

“Why would being a potential victim constitute impropriety?”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep it simple: Lunatic wants to kill judge, then said lunatic dies violently? I know I’m blameless as a lamb but cops are suspicious types, once they go nosing around in my personal life and the media finds out, I become a story and there goes my transfer.”

“I don’t see why that would happen, Nancy.”

“Then you don’t understand the way things work,” she said sharply. “Sorry, I didn’t ask you here to give you attitude. I’m just a little edgy. Pivotal point in my career and this happens.”

I said, “I haven’t heard about any intention to question you.”

She smoothed her hair. “So you are involved in the investigation.”

“Not formally.”

“What does that mean?”

“From time to time I’m asked to weigh in on cases. This is one of them.”

“Even though you’re directly involved.”

“Not anymore,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Connie’s dead. It’s over for both of us, Nancy.”

She shuddered. “When I found out she was after me, I nearly lost it. I get this anonymous message on my private line, freak out, and immediately tell Hank.” Glancing over at Nebe. “Needless to say I wanted her busted immediately for making terrorist threats, was hoping someone in the D.A.’s office would see it that way. Hank asked around and found out she’d just been murdered. I mean this is too bizarre, Alex. What the hell’s going on?”

“Wish I knew.”

“What about the sister? She under suspicion? Because after what that bitch put her through, can’t say I’d blame her. Pardon my loss of objectivity, but when someone desires to slay me it affects my personal feelings.”

“Mine, too, Nancy.”

“There you go, common ground,” she said. She moved as if to touch my hand, thought better of it, ate another octopus. “If you had to guess, would you say it was the sister?”

“I honestly don’t know, Nancy.”

“Would you be opposed to checking with your cop contacts?”

“Do my best.”

“Appreciate it.” She called the waitress over, asked for two cups of sake. When they arrived, she raised her glass. “Time for a toast: to the demise of our mutual threat.”

I said, “Bottoms up.”