Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 (5 page)

He didn’t make the mistake of commenting on her lack of pleasure. Just studied her in that way he knew irritated her into dismissing him. She would not be around to do that for much longer, though the wheels of justice were not turning as swiftly as Claude might like. She would either die or go to jail. He turned for one last look before he closed the door and caught a look on her face that gave him internal pause. He made his way to the library, the place that had been Phineas’ seat of power and now belonged to him. He sank into the chair behind the desk and considered that look.

He would never assume Helenne had been benched until it was done, but that look—there was something in that look. Something that said she had a card left to play? But why would Bettino’s death give her a card? Was it because someone had beat her to it? Or something more? He considered what he knew of the three men. Afoniki, Calvino, and St. Cyr. His researches into their collective past had been most carefully conducted, so that no hint of it would reach them. All three had so many secrets. Interesting that all three could trace their past to the Zafiro organization, which had—back then—comprised the territory now divided between the three families.

There was much conjecture about the past, but there were some things that seemed certain. Zafiro had intended one of the three to take over his organization. But when he died, the three men had divided it up. Claude mentally corrected himself. When Zafiro was murdered. Everyone believed either one, or all three, had conspired to kill him. But there’d been no proof. And the three had formed an uneasy peace that had been broken once, when Phil and the Calvino girl were apparently murdered.

Only they hadn’t died.

Claude considered that for several minutes. Who had helped them escape? They would have needed help. Phil had been eighteen. His thoughts moved forward once more, landing back in that room with the coffins. Dolls in coffins. His thought circled, for some reason, on that doll that had been a fake. If it mattered then, it could not matter now. He was more troubled by the…prescience of the three “dead” Ken dolls. For some reason, those felt like they mattered.

He heard Helenne’s light footsteps pass the closed door, tapping slowly up the stairs. He would need to keep a closer eye on Helenne. His instincts told him that, too.

“
W
hat are you thinking
?” Ferris asked, curious when Holy Hannah didn’t get out of the car after pulling into her parking spot outside the NOCC. He’d asked her to bring him back here. That’s where Alex expected to pick him up, so that’s where he needed to be. Alex had a way of seeing what you didn’t want him to, so it would be better not to be around Hannah until he could stop thinking “holy.” Only he didn’t want to leave her just yet. That kiss had made him want to move in closer. And run for his life.

She glanced at him, almost as if she’d forgotten he was there, but then she smiled and the warmth in her eyes told him she hadn’t forgotten the kiss either.

“What if—” she stopped, a cute frown pulling her brows together. She rubbed there, as if it annoyed her. “My head feels like a maze. Disconnected thoughts. St. Cyr’s death—”

Funny how he usually didn’t like it when a woman followed up a kiss with talk about feelings. So he should be thrilled right now. Nope, not thrilled.

“Now Calvino. Old…” She half turned in her seat. “What if
old
was the catalyst? Or part of it?”

It took him a minute. “Old what? The past coming back to get Calvino? Maybe.” He frowned. “But the evidence against Helenne St. Cyr is pretty compelling.”

She nodded slowly. “But what if St. Cyr’s killing was…the trigger? First person the police will suspect will be Helenne, or Guido. And time is running out. They say Afoniki hasn’t got long. He’s the oldest of them.”

Ferris considered this. Though it was hard to wrap his brain around old killers— “You do realize what you’re thinking?”

Her gaze turned wry. “That Uncle Charlie and Ellie Calvino are not only alive, but have returned to kill?” She gave a gusty sigh. “Yeah. It’s an interesting mental exercise until that part.” Her lashes drifted down, then slowly lifted. “You said the truth would set us free.”

His turn to sigh. “I might have been wrong about that. It might just be opening a really old can of worms.” The car had quickly turned stifling. He pushed open his door, but didn’t get out. Not that the open door helped that much. For air to circulate, it needed to move.

Hannah—seemed that was the trick to removing the holy, focus on business—opened her door, too. Also not a big help, but better than not open.

“Not your case,” she murmured. “Not my autopsy.” She slid out then, but turned to face him over the top of her car when he got out, too. “Just a lot of questions.”

He had one. “What are you going to do about, you know?” Felt risky to mention it outside, even though they looked to be alone in the lot.

“Right now it just looks like a personal keepsake. If anyone notices it, I might get teased about it.”

So that’s why she hadn’t locked it up. By silent agreement, they both headed toward the rear of the NOCC. Ferris didn’t see Alex’s truck yet, so they’d probably beat him back. It was quiet inside. No sign that Calvino’s body had arrived. Almost reluctantly, Hannah led him back to the coffins, her desk. She hesitated in the doorway, then stepped in.

“Did I forget something, Frank?”

Ferris moved past her, saw yet another of her brothers sitting at her desk examining one of the dolls. It was hard to not run into one of the Baker boys, he reminded himself. Frank dropped it back with the others, rising to his feet with a smoothness that went well with his highly pressed exterior. It was hard to believe he was Alex’s little brother. Oh, the family resemblance was there, but a resemblance that had been airbrushed. Frank had better clothes, too. Maybe the FBI had a better dress code than the NOPD.

Frank’s gaze rested on Ferris for several seconds, then tracked past as if he were looking for Alex. Ferris didn’t answer the unasked question. Neither did Hannah. Frank’s lips quirked slightly.

“I was curious about those.” He nodded toward the open coffins. “Alex was supposed to call me.”

“He wanted to talk to Nell, tell her about Calvino,” Ferris said, lounging over to one side.

Hannah headed for her desk, forcing Frank to move aside. She sat, opening a lower drawer where she stowed her purse. Ferris felt her hesitation, felt her decide to wait. She turned in her chair.

“So far that’s it. Disturbing, but so far lacking in clarity.”

Frank stopped by the Barbie coffin and looked down. “Disturbing?”

“I guess you had to be here when they were opened. Ask Ingrid for the photos. Certainly a first for me.”

Was there a hint of a question at the end there? Ferris wasn’t sure. Frank turned and studied his sister. Then glanced at Ferris. No question he wished Ferris gone. Ferris looked at Hannah. If she wanted him gone—but she gave no sign, her gaze meeting her brother’s for a long moment before her brows lifted.

“Was there something else?” Hannah asked.

Frank glanced at Ferris again. Either he wondered why Ferris was there or why he didn’t leave.

“So that’s it?” Frank glanced at the coffins again. “Just the dolls?”

“Was there something you were hoping I’d find?” she asked, not actually answering the question Ferris noted. He hesitated and she gave a frustrated sigh. “This isn’t my job. I did a cursory search for Ingrid. She can dig under the lining—”

Ferris glanced down at the closest coffin. “You haven’t searched beneath the lining?”

“I tore the lining when I removed the dolls,” she said. “There are bricks or something under there.”

“That’s more than a tear.” It was rent from end to end and then folded back.

Hannah joined him on one side, Frank on the other. “I didn’t tear it that bad.”

The base had been lined with bricks cut to match the shape of the coffin. Maybe so they wouldn’t shift during transport. It had been a nice job for something that appeared—through the lens of time—to have been cobbled together last minute. Up near the right end of the coffin, one brick was missing. His gaze met Hannah’s. As one they turned to the other coffin.

Same layout. Rent lining. Bricks, but none of them missing.

Ferris opened his mouth to ask who had access to the room, but closed it. Someone had known what to look for and had either bribed someone to get it or bribed someone to let them get it. Or just strolled in looking like they belonged.

Frank studied the gap for what seemed like a long time.

“What did you hope I’d find?” Hannah asked him.

When he didn’t answer, Ferris thought he wouldn’t, but he finally spoke.

“The material that was found by Nell—Miss Whitby—”

“In the music box?”

He nodded. “There was a gun and some papers. Maybe they meant something to someone at some time.” He rubbed his face.

“Some kind of code?” Ferris asked.

“Maybe.” He met theirs gazes. “It’s not like this is a huge priority. On TV, they get to follow any lead. No worries about money.”

“So no genius code breakers on staff.” Hannah nodded.

She would know about budgetary limitations. Rumor was, they had the smallest budget in the city. Possibly in the whole world.

He shook his head. “Old case. Beyond cold case. Might not even be a case. Only—” He stopped, then continued with obvious reluctance, “—maybe it’s not so old and cold.”

Hannah’s gaze narrowed in a way that put the “holy” back in Ferris’ thoughts. “Something’s happened. Something new. And not just Calvino getting popped.”

“It’s gone…missing.”

He hated admitting it. Ferris didn’t blame him. Sucked.

“From?” Now she looked worried.

“Evidence locker.” He sighed. “The ring is missing, too.”

“Ring?” Hannah’s eyes widened for a minute. She glanced at her desk, then at Ferris.

“The ring that St. Cyr gave Nell—Miss Whitby.”

“Oh right. I’d forgotten about that,” she said.

Frank must be really worried to miss Hannah’s moment of panic, Ferris decided. A distraction seemed in order. “I wonder if Calvino was wearing his when he got popped?”

“Why would anyone care about the rings worn by some old wise guys?”

Holy Hannah shrugged and went back to her desk, tapping the top as if thinking, but Ferris noted her sidelong study of Frank. When he turned back to the coffin, she eased the top drawer open. She closed it, met his gaze with a slight shake of her head.

So Charlie Baker’s ring was gone, too. Would have been nice if he could make a connection, have an
aha
moment. But the only conclusion he came up with was that someone knew exactly what they were looking for.

Which helped not at all.

F
rank finally left
, exuding federal frustration, which was more contained than local cop frustration, Hannah decided with an inward grin. She could remember a time when Alex used to blackmail Frank to get him to shower. Now he shone like a new penny.

At least Frank had made copies of the papers, so that was something. He agreed to send her a copy, though his lack of faith that she’d find something he hadn’t was not surprising. Her brothers couldn’t see past the little sister to the IQ. Of course, if they figured it out, they start having her do their taxes and stuff, but it still made her crazy. Which was crazy and made her head ache.

“I need to get out of here before Calvino’s remains get here or I’ll be stuck. Is Alex incoming? Do you have to stay?”

He shook his head. “It’s taking too long, so I texted Alex and told him I found a ride.” He arched a brow, making it something of a question.

Hannah, packing up her laptop, gave him a look over her shoulder, followed by a nod with possibly a hint of a smile. With everything that had happened, it seemed wrong to feel a spurt of happy at the thought of extending their—whatever it was. Her toes still quivered a bit from the kiss. She grabbed her purse and headed out, Ferris at her side. He didn’t speak until they were in her car with the A/C on.

“So.”

As an opening gambit it lacked focus.

“So.” She shifted restlessly. “How do I report missing—or how do we investigate—something that didn’t—technically—exist?” The missing brick would go in her report, and wouldn’t that add clarity and get them to let someone investigate that missing brick? She put the car in gear. “And that no one but you and I knew about?”

“You, me—and whoever put it there,” he reminded her. He frowned. “You’re sure Guido didn’t see it?”

She kept her foot on the brake while she considered this. It was all too easy to conjure up that bad guy. Why had he returned? What had he hoped to accomplish?

“He didn’t see the ring, I’m sure of that. But,” a chill ran down her back as she recalled the look in his eyes just before his cell rang, “he suspected something.”

“Suspicion is in his wheelhouse,” Ferris said, resting his arm on her shoulder for a comforting moment. “Bettino’s death should keep his attention for a while at least.”

Another upside to a dead wise guy? Almost she chuckled. This was so wrong on so many levels. But, for such an old crime, events were moving oddly fast. She considered that as she carefully backed out of her spot. Were events moving fast? Or was someone ramping up the pace? Growing up with a million siblings, one developed a fine sense of time. One had to if one ever wanted to use the bathroom.

“I wonder,” she slowly accelerated toward the street, “how hard it would be to find photos of Ellie and Charlie?” She braked at the street edge and looked at Ferris.

“You’re thinking of using aging software, see what they look like now?” Ferris looked thoughtful. “I can help with that. Think we need to do a…careful background check on both of them.” He slanted her a look. “Chances are, they are both long dead.”

“I know. But what about an unknown player?” Interesting that he’d followed her line of thought. Only—was Zach protecting someone else? She pulled out into traffic. That idea was unsettling, as was her next. “Or—”

“Or?”