The Halo Effect

22

When I got back to the office, there was a message from Elias Beecher, and we made plans to meet at the end of the day for coffee in the bar of the Mark Hotel a few blocks from my office. When I arrived, he was waiting for me in the reception area.

He was medium height, extremely thin, with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline and haunted dark brown eyes. Even though I’d never met him before, he looked tired. So tired, he might be ill.

“Mr. Beecher.” I held out my hand.

His was strong, so strong I felt my fingers pinch.

He motioned to the maître d’, who led us to a corner table.

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Elias said as soon as we were seated.

“No problem.”

“My client is staying here and I have back-to-back meetings in just a little while, but I wanted to see you before…” he started to explain.

“It’s okay,” I assured him.

“I need you to help me.”

“I will. I’ll do everything I can.”

“I’m going crazy. No one will listen to me.”

“I’ll listen to you.”

He played with the small china vase of flowers in the middle of the table. “I’m going crazy and I just don’t know who else to speak to.”

His pain and distress were palpable.

The waiter arrived and hovered.

“I’ll just have coffee,” Elias said. “Espresso.” Then he looked at me. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m not thinking. What would you like?”

“I’ll have an iced tea,” I said to the waiter, who gave a slight nod and walked away. He was barely out of earshot when Elias started talking again.

“None of this makes any sense. It’s a nightmare that just keeps growing.” He was playing with the vase again. “And the police won’t do anything. In good faith, I went to them and asked for help. Begged them to start looking for Cleo. I even took them to her apartment. I told them everything I knew, and what did they do? They turned around and questioned me. Treated me as if I’m the lead suspect even before they know if there has been a crime. They need to concentrate on Cleo. Not on me. They need to start looking for her. What good can I do them?”

“And you don’t think they will look for her?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have much confidence in the NYPD. But more important, I can’t wait for them. I have to do something now.”

“That is completely understandable.”

“So help me.”

“How?”

“Talk to me about Cleo. Tell me what you know about her and the men who were her clients. Of course she never told me that much about them. I didn’t want to know. I’m sure you can understand that. But maybe one of the men she worked with had it in for her. Because of the book. You know about the book, right?”

“I do.”

“Have you read it?”

“Even if I had, I couldn’t tell you that.”

He shook his head, violently. “You don’t understand, Cleo told me everything. We are in love. She trusts me. I know she gave you a copy. I am just asking you if you read it.”

Was he telling me the truth? Or was he fishing? There was no way for me to know. I was going to have to gamble on him. But I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

But how or when would I be, and by then would it be too late?

The waiter was back with our orders and neither of us said anything until he had put the drinks down.

“I have a copy of the book,” Elias said.

How did he get a copy? I wondered. Had Cleo given it to him after she gave one to me? I was fairly certain she had told me that I was the only person she wanted to read it at this stage. But Elias had keys to her apartment-he must, for he said he’d taken the police there. Maybe he found her copy and took it.

“You have a copy?” I asked as innocuously as I could, hoping he’d elaborate.

“I brought some of it with me. The pages that have to do with her clients. Read about them from a psychiatrist’s point of view. And you tell me if you think I’m right-that one of these men might have a reason to harm Cleo. The point is, almost all of them might wish she was dead if they know about the book. But that doesn’t mean shit. Wishing and having the ability to act are opposite sides of the moon. I know a lot of people who think things but can’t carry them out. It’s action that makes heroes. Or villains. You understand that, don’t you? It’s doing something that matters. It’s too easy to sit it out and let someone else worry about it. I’m not like that. You’re not.”

He looked at me, straight into my eyes. His were bloodshot. And sad. Only Cleo, who’d known him before, knew how his eyes looked when they weren’t so damn sad.

“You’re not too scared to help, are you?” he asked. “I know. I can tell. You will. We’re in this together. We’re both worried about her. We were both her caretakers. We have to save her. You’ll help me save her, won’t you? That’s what you were doing before someone took her away. Saving her. And she was so grateful to you for that.”