chapter eight
ACCORDING TO THE list Sterling's secretary had given me, there were three other women in the harassment suit: Olivia Hanson, Marcia Albright, and Penny Putnam. Penny Putnam lived in an apartment on the water where the Charlestown Navy Yard used to be. I decided to visit her first. It was close and I like alliteration.
Penny's address was a big rambling gray clapboard while-trim apartment complex on Pier 7. There was parking under, and the front door was a flight up. A big pretty woman answered the door. I asked if she were Penny Putnam, and she said that she was. She smiled. She was friendly. I could tell she liked me. I asked if I could ask a few questions about the sexual harassment suit she was involved in, and the valves of her attention closed like a stone.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I have no comment."
"Why not?" I said.
The door closed more firmly than the valves of her attention. So the trip shouldn't be a complete waste of time, I stood for a moment and looked across the harbor at the downtown waterfront. Nice view. Then I turned and went back to my car and drove away. I was still sure she liked me. Her rejection was circumstantial.
I went across the Charlestown Bridge and picked up the Central Artery near North Station. They had built a third tunnel under the Harbor and were in the process of dismantling the Central Artery and putting it underground. The result was that City Square had disappeared and there were convoluted detours from Charlestown to Mattapan. It was always exciting to see where you would end up.
Marcia Albright lived in Quincy, and Olivia Hanson lived in Malden. I figured I'd get the Southeast Expressway over with, so I headed for Quincy. Marcia's place was very much like Penny's-an apartment complex with a water view, only Marcia's was brick. I never did find out what Marcia looked like. I got as far as the intercom and was told that she had no comment and the line went dead. Only because I'm methodical, I went back up the expressway, over the Mystic River Bridge, and a short haul up Route 1 to another apartment complex. This one, in Malden, designed to look like, I guess, a Moorish castle. If you got in just the right place, there was a view of the Saugus River.
Olivia Hanson was much nicer than Penny or Marcia. She actually came out into the vestibule and spoke with me.
"Oh, no," she said. "I'm terribly sorry. But I really couldn't comment on the lawsuit."
"On advice of counsel?" I said.
"Whatever," she said and gave me a lovely smile. She was smallish and perky and had a lot of blonde hair. "Are you a lawyer?"
"No," I said. "I'm a detective."
"Really? Can I see a badge or something?"
I showed her my license.
"Wow," she said. "You're a private detective. Do you have a gun?"
"Yes," I said. "But it's kind of small."
She widened her eyes at me. "Is that like an off-color remark?" she said.
I opened my jacket and let her see the short-barreled Smith & Wesson.38 I was wearing.
"Oh it is small, isn't it?" she said.
I grinned.
"But sufficient," I said. "Did Brad Sterling make some off-color remarks?"
"Don't try and trick me," she said. "I told you I'm not supposed to talk about that with anyone."
"Who says?"
She smiled at me and shook her head. "No, no, no," she said.
We did about five more minutes of that in the vestibule until even my killer charm was beginning to wear Ihin. I looked at my watch. Maybe bribery.
"Care for some lunch?" I said.
She shook her head again. My killer charm was apparently threadbare.
"No, I don't think I better."
"My loss," I said, ever gallant.
"But maybe sometime, once the legal stuff is over," she said. "I'll take a rain check."
I wrote "lunch-rain check" on the back of one of my business cards and handed it to her. We shook hands and I left the vestibule and got in my car and went back to Boston.