Brutality (36 page)

“Kevin! What a nice surprise!”

He hid his distaste with a wide smile. “How are you?” he asked jovially.

“I’m great. I’m so glad I bumped into you. I need a minute to catch up.”

Kevin glanced at the man next to him, who was busy dipping his hand into his buttered snack.

“You don’t mind if I steal him for a moment, do you?” Fina asked the man. She touched his shoulder lightly when she asked.

“Of course not. He’s all yours.” Kevin’s companion wandered over to the gym entrance and found someone else to jabber with.

“So you’re a volleyball fan?” Kevin asked her before taking a long suck from his straw.

“I do admire the players’ athleticism, but it’s almost painful to watch. Don’t you think?”

He glared at her. “Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to keep you in the loop regarding the Liz Barone situation.”

Kevin shook his head. “This is beginning to feel like harassment.”

“This?” Fina looked around innocently. “
This
feels like harassment? Oh, Kevin, I’m just getting warmed up.”

A whistle blew in the gym, and the players vacated the court and gathered around their respective benches.

“Say what you have to say,” Kevin said.

“Did you know that your company is one of the sponsors of a grant that Liz’s lab tried to win?” Fina asked.

“So what? So is every lab in the area.”

“True, but it just seems a little weird that she would be having cognitive issues, is blamed for losing the grant, and—what a coincidence—your company sponsors the grant.”

“I think your job has made you paranoid,” Kevin said, leaning toward her. “I have nothing to do with the grant process.”

“What about lithium metal?”

“What about it?” he asked.

“I assume you have it in your labs.”

“As does every academic and commercial chemistry lab in the greater Boston area.”

“Right, but not every lab has a connection to a murder victim.”

“What does any of this have to do with Liz?” Kevin asked, fiddling with the straw in his drink.

“I don’t know if you heard,” Fina said, “but I had a little mishap on the Tobin Bridge recently.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that you’re a terrible driver,” he said, with a hint of pleasure.

“It wasn’t my fault. Someone planted an incendiary device on my car. A device made from a chemical found in your lab.”

Kevin chuckled. “And you think I had something to do with that? Do I seem like the sort of man who would plant an incendiary device?”

“The sort of man who would do that is the guilty, threatened sort, and I’ve yet to rule you out of that category.”

“I think you’re nuts,” he said.

“Thank you,” Fina said. “That’s very kind.”

Kevin shook his head and sucked on his lemonade.

“I’m not giving up,” Fina said. “Fair warning, I’m like a dog with a bone when it comes to my cases.”

“Well, then, I wish you the best of luck.”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” Fina said, and retraced her steps to the sports complex entrance.

She hadn’t learned anything, but she’d put Kevin on notice, which was something.

You put enough people on edge and eventually someone would jump off.

—

F
ina retrieved a phone message from Greta agreeing to meet the next day. She called Risa and updated her, then dialed Milloy. He was finishing up with a client and suggested she come to his place.

Milloy lived in a high-rise building a block away from the Common on the edge of the Theater District. Fina parked and rode the elevator up to the seventeenth floor. The hallway was carpeted and dimly lit by contemporary wall sconces. She was reaching up to knock on his door when it opened and an older woman stepped out.

“Hi,” Fina said, more to Milloy than the woman.

“Hey,” he said to her. “I’ll see you next week, Connie.”

Connie, who was definitely a card-carrying member of AARP, grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I look forward to it, Milloy,” she said, winking. She threw her scarf over her shoulder and sashayed toward the elevator.

“Somebody looks like she got a happy ending,” Fina said, following him into the condo.

Milloy made a face. “Gross.” He started to disassemble the massage table in the middle of the living room. “How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine.” Fina flopped down on the couch. Milloy’s one-bedroom was neat and tastefully decorated. It wasn’t a large space, but his attentive housekeeping made it feel roomy. “What’s for dinner?”

“You tell me.”

“Do you have any interest in going to a bar in Cambridge?”

Milloy disappeared with the folded table and returned a moment later. “I assume you have a particular bar in mind.”

“I do, and it’s not greasy bar food. They have things like octopus and roasted Brussels sprouts.”

“This is for a case?” he asked.

“Yes, and I introduced myself as someone else, so I need to keep a low profile.”

Milloy sighed. “Of course you do.”

24.

Fina and Milloy’s evening out netted nothing more than tasty snacks and sore throats from hollering at each other over the music. It was wishful thinking that Jamie would turn up at the bar that very night, but she’d never find him there if she never went.

Her alarm the next morning was a rude awakening, and she had a lingering headache, but once she hopped in the shower and swallowed a couple of aspirin, Fina felt ready to get down to business. She was picking Risa up at eleven
A.M.
to head to Kittery, but first she wanted to speak with Vikram Mehra about the chemicals in his lab. Getting access to Vikram was the challenge. Louis, her favorite security guard, probably wouldn’t fall for her usual tricks, and Vikram wouldn’t agree to see her.

Fina did a quick online search and found his home address. It was in Hyde Park, just a few streets away from the homes of Liz Barone and Kelly Wegner. The police must have known that, but Fina’s antennae started to vibrate anyway.

On the drive over, Fina contemplated her approach. Vikram seemed like enough of a control freak that family members wouldn’t invite a stranger into the house without his consent, and he certainly wouldn’t welcome Fina with open arms. The best she could hope for was a brief conversation outside.

Vikram’s house looked to be one of the pricier ones on his street, but it wasn’t particularly attractive. A newly built colonial, it had fake siding and a twin on the neighboring lot. The landscaping was immature, and a few pathetic-looking saplings dotted the grass. Fina never understood why builders couldn’t leave some of the trees in place rather than make a pathetic attempt at planting new ones. Was it
that
time-consuming or expensive to steer clear of a few old oaks and maples?

It was nearly seven thirty
A.M.
when she arrived. She was relieved to find two cars in the driveway, suggesting that he hadn’t already left for the lab. Fina parked across the street and kept one eye on the front door and the other on a game of solitaire on her phone. Surveillance was one of the more boring tasks performed by PIs. You actually had to pay attention, and you always felt like you had to pee, if only because you couldn’t.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long. At five minutes before eight, the front door opened and Vikram emerged. He was wearing a parka over his suit and a stocking cap on his head. It really was hard to look fashionable in twenty degrees, which is perhaps why there was little haute couture originating from Siberia.

Fina turned off the car and jumped out. She jogged across the street and came to a stop at Vikram’s driver’s-side door a moment before he did.

“Move or I will call the police!” he announced.

“For Pete’s sake, take it down a notch,” Fina said. “I just want a minute of your time.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” He extended his key toward the door handle, but Fina maneuvered her body to block his access.

“Do you have lithium metal in your lab?” she asked.

“My lab is not your concern.”

“I’m guessing the cops asked you the same question.”

“Get out of my way,” he said.

“Unless you say otherwise, I’m going to assume you have lithium metal. I hope you can account for all of it.”

Vikram threw up his hands. “Of course! Because I am dark-skinned and not named Michael or Joseph, you assume I’m a terrorist. Just because I’m from the other side of the world does not mean I aim to murder people!”

“I assume you’re from India and a Hindu,” Fina replied. “Am I incorrect in that assumption?”

Vikram closed his mouth abruptly.

Fina looked annoyed. “Yeah, some of us do actually know the difference, so why don’t you put away your race and religion card.”

Vikram stood up straighter, but remained silent.

“I’m asking
you
, Dr. Mehra, because you have access to lithium metal, the main component used in the incendiary device that was planted on my car, a device that could have killed me and my brother. And I’m asking
you
because I’m investigating Liz Barone’s death, a death in which you had a stake.”

He shoved the key into the door lock. “That’s preposterous.”

“And I didn’t realize how close you live to Liz,” Fina said, surveying the street. “I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t mention it, but it does seem like a salient fact.”

Vikram climbed into the car, and Fina saw the lock pop down. He started the car and rolled down the window.

“That woman has been nothing but trouble,” he said. “Even in death, she is causing problems for me.”

Fina made a sad face. “Well, poor you, Vikram.”

He rolled up the window and backed out of the driveway. She looked back at the house and caught a small motion in one of the windows. Maybe Mrs. Mehra was just as mean as her husband, but Fina thought it was more likely that he bullied her, too. Fina could knock on the door, but she didn’t want to risk getting the wife in trouble.

Contrary to what some people believed, she wasn’t interested in gaining information at any cost.

—

F
ina’s phone rang as she navigated a rotary.

“Fina, it’s Bobbi Barone.”

“Hi, Bobbi. How are you?”

“Well, I have to admit that I’m feeling mighty pissed off at the moment.”

“What’s going on?” Fina pulled into a mini-mall parking lot so she could give Bobbi her full attention.

“You talked with someone from the fund-raising office at NEU, didn’t you?” Bobbi asked. “Before Liz died.”

“Uh-huh. A woman named Pamela Fordyce.”

“She’s the one who Liz was so angry with?”

“That’s right,” Fina said. “Her office kept sending out annual fund solicitations.”

“Well, I’m going through the mail at Liz’s house—Jamie has let it stack up—and there’s another letter from her,” Bobbi exclaimed.

“From Pamela Fordyce?” Fina asked.

“Yes. I mean, are you kidding me? Don’t they know she’s dead?”

It was the first time that Fina had heard a hint of unhinging in Bobbi’s voice, but it didn’t surprise her. People could be very good at holding things together in high-stress moments, but when the dust settled, the littlest thing could send them over the edge.

“Is it a form letter?” Fina asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly, “or a personal letter?”

“Form, and the reason I called you is so that I don’t call this woman and give her a piece of my mind. Your father said I wasn’t to speak with anyone from NEU.”

“He’s right, and you were right to call me. I promise you, I will give Pamela Fordyce a piece of my mind.”

Bobbi exhaled deeply. “That makes me feel better. I bet you’re scarier than I am.”

Fina laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bobbi. You’ve got plenty of fire in the belly. I’ll give you a call once I get this straightened out.”

“Thank you. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s making my blood boil.”

“It’s not a little thing,” Fina argued. “It’s insensitive and tasteless. Your indignation is completely reasonable. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

They ended the call, and Fina glanced at the clock. She had a little time before she had to get Risa.

She took a few deep breaths and counted to ten.

Nope.

Still pissed.

—

F
ina didn’t give Pamela the benefit of advance notice before arriving at her office half an hour later. She informed the assistant that she didn’t have an appointment, but it was regarding a lawsuit. Jill fluttered around her desk and made a quick phone call.

Fina wondered if an armed escort was on the way to relocate her, but decided to plant herself on the couch and wait anyway.

Five minutes later, a handsome young man in khakis and a button-down sauntered into the office and perched on the edge of the assistant’s desk.

“Jill, any word on the replacement speaker?” he asked.

Fina imagined that his good looks granted him privileges he wouldn’t enjoy if he were unattractive—privileges like claiming so much real estate of the young woman’s work space. He was just the sort of charming bully that made Fina’s skin crawl. Given her current mood, she felt like leaning over and shoving his ass off the desk.

“I’m working on it, Darryl,” Jill said, tapping away at her keyboard.

“Pamela left Paul in the lurch. If she won’t give the talk, she’d better find someone who will.”

“Here’s an idea,” Jill said tartly. “Why don’t you help me find a replacement instead of breathing down my neck?”

“’Cause I work for Paul, not you or Pamela. She can’t make commitments and then just blow them off.”

Jill’s cheeks were turning red.

“You should get your ass off her desk,” Fina said innocuously, as if she were commenting on the weather.

Darryl glared at her. “What?”

Jill looked astounded.

“I said, you should get your ass off her desk. You’re encroaching upon her physical space,” Fina said. “It’s very aggressive behavior, Darryl. If I were Jill, I’d call security.”

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, rising up and stepping in Fina’s direction.