The Taxman Killeth (7 page)

“Tell him you’re a friend of
Jennie’s, but don’t mention my name, or else he’s liable to call the cops for
the reward.”

“Is there a reward out on you?”

“Interested?”

“No! Of course not. Why would he
call the police, anyway? Wouldn’t he want to help you?”

“No, can’t stand me. Don’t ask
why.”

“Listen, isn’t there some way
you can get to your sister’s, or at least have her come here to pick up the
money?”

“And what if the cops followed
her and found me in your apartment?”

“Good point. Where does she
live?”

Todd gave her the addresses of
both his sister and the government contact. Neither was in a good neighborhood.

“Is it all right if I see these
people after work?”

“Amy, my freedom and perhaps my
life depend on what you do and when you do it. Don’t you think Pickles could
manage without you for a day? Besides, we left him a good start.”

“No. He threw all our work out.
I think it was a matter of pride. There will be a lot of confusion in the
office if I don’t show up.” Amy glanced over at Todd as he drew the back of his
hand against her cheek. It felt good, but Amy had the feeling it was part of
his manipulation techniques. She figured she may as well use it to her
advantage, since she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him.

“Do you do as well with dinners
as you do with breakfasts?”

“Sure. If it’s beef. I can even
bake crispy potatoes and chop up some veggies for a salad. And for dessert, I
can make a rich zabaglione. That’s my specialty.”

“Fattening. But it sounds good
for tonight. I’ll take a quick shower and be on my way.”

“And I’ll make the grocery list
for you.”

“Huh?”

An hour later, after calling her
office, Amy was on her way to Haight-Ashbury in a taxi. When they pulled up to
the address, she leaned forward to ask the driver to wait.

“For how long?”

“Until I come out.”

“Listen, lady, I make more
driving around picking up fares than I do sitting here being your private
chauffeur.”

“Fine. Then give me a company
card and I’ll call when I’m ready to leave.”

He handed her the card.

“And ask for Sam,” he said as
she slid across the back seat to exit.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered,
staring up at a dilapidated Victorian. She hesitated in closing the door but
knew the driver must have reached back, because she felt the door pull away
from her hand. Next thing she knew she was alone on the street.

I guess people sleep late around
here, she thought as she climbed the steps. There were three apartments and not
a working buzzer among them. But that was okay, because the front door lock
didn’t work, either.

Todd had said that his sister
and her family lived on the second floor, but hadn’t said that the hallway
reeked of unnatural odors.

“Get out and stay out, you
bastard.”

Amy grabbed the banister and
waited.

A wiry guy came staggering down
from the third floor. He winked at her as he passed by.

“Leo,” the woman on the floor
above yelled, and a pair of shoes hit the man on the head, causing him to
almost lose his balance. “What is she, another one of your floozies?”

The man looked at Amy and
shrugged.

Amy thought she had better
explain herself quickly.

“No ma’am, I’m no one’s floozy.
I’m here to see Jennie,” she said, pointing to the apartment door on the second
floor.

“Poor girl. She’s got the same
problems I do. And three kids, to make matters worse. Are you sure you’re here
to see her and not that lazy—”

“What the hell’s all the racket
about? Can’t you and Leo ever get along?”

Amy looked at the husky brute
standing in the doorway of the second floor apartment. He was big—about six
foot five and close to three hundred pounds of muscle covered by a thin layer
of fat. His dirty blond hair was dishevelled, and so were his clothes; a combo
of food stains blotched the front of his tee shirt. Amy glanced down at tree
trunk-sized thighs which poked out of blue boxer underwear. Her right foot
started searching for the next step down.

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind getting
caught with that babe myself.”

She realized he had seen her.

“I’m not a babe and I’m not a
floozy,” she said, casting a look up at the woman on the top floor landing. “I’m
Amy and I’m here to speak to Jennie.”

“Didn’t know she had any friends
like you, honey.” His eyes didn’t miss a curve, while Leo stood gawking beside
her.

She stiffened but didn’t have
the courage to take the last step up to the second landing.

“Is she home?”

“Why don’t you come in and find
out?”

“Just as I thought. You’re as
bad as my Leo. Worse,” shouted the woman perched on the edge of the third floor
landing.

“Shut up!” The big guy swung the
door wide and beckoned to Amy.

“Is your wife home?” Then she
heard a child in the apartment calling to her mother. Amy took a deep breath,
and her stomach roiled from the building’s odors. Both the woman upstairs and
Leo watched her go into the apartment. She almost believed they’d still be
waiting in the hallway when she left.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your
name,” she said, turning to the man closing the door behind her.

“You’re a friend of my wife and
don’t know my name?” His eyes were a chameleon hazel that moved from blue to
green depending on the light or shade hitting them. The nose had been broken at
least once, and hair above his lip looked clotted with dried milk.

“Actually,” Amy hesitated. Todd
had told her that none of the children were of school age. “I’m from the local
library.”

“Say, are you that librarian the
kids like so much? I should be taking them to the story hours myself.”

“No. I mean, I’m the new
assistant to the librarian. She asked me to drop by and give a message to
Jennie about the next story hour. Is she here?”

Amy looked around the room at
the disarray. Toys she would have expected, but men’s magazines and beer cans
were a surprise. A loud burp sounded behind her as Jennie’s husband moved
closer to her. The smell of spoiled milk traveled with him.

“Then let me introduce myself. I’m
Michael. Not Mike or Mickey. Michael,” he said, mouthing it slowly for her.

“Michael,” she said, nodding her
head. “Where’s your better half?” Anyone had to be better than him.

“Jen,” he yelled. “Somebody from
the library wants to see you.”

A petite young woman with dark
hair and Todd’s blue eyes entered the room, carrying a miniature duplicate of
herself. Jennie was slender, except for the hint of a bulge around the belly.
Amy wasn’t sure whether the poor woman was pregnant or hadn’t lost the weight
from her last delivery. A squalling baby made her think the latter was true.

“Why don’t you see to the baby,
Michael, while I speak to...”

“Amy.”

Michael grunted and left the two
women alone. Relieved, Amy immediately pulled the envelope from her purse and
handed it to Todd’s sister. With a puzzled look, Jennie took it.

“It’s from your brother.”

Immediately Jenny stuffed the
envelope inside her dress.

“Is he all right?”

“Yes. Well, kind of.”

“I read about the murder in the
paper. Can I do anything?”

Amy shook her head. The woman
could barely care for herself and the children, she thought.

“I’d better be going. I
understand your husband doesn’t like Todd.”

“Todd?” Michael’s voice boomed
as he walked back into the room.

“I was just telling your wife
about the toddler program and hoped that she would be able to take the
children.”

“If she doesn’t, I will.” He
leered.

“I don’t participate,” Amy said.
“I only do clerical work in the back room.”

“Maybe I could help you work out
in the back room.”

“My husband used to be a fitness
instructor,” Jenny said, obviously embarrassed by his brashness.

Amy opened the apartment door
and Jenny rushed to her side. “Tell him I don’t believe he did it,” she
whispered.

Amy shut the door behind her and
was relieved to see that the two lovers were gone from the hallway. However, in
the vestibule, she was forced to step over a huddled form that looked very much
like Leo. Amy wondered whether the next stop would be as colorful as this one.

Chapter 8

A Visit to Roger

Once on the street, Amy
remembered that she needed to call a cab, but going back upstairs was out of
the question. Besides, it would probably appear odd that she needed to call a
cab to get to the local library. She looked up and down the street, trying to
locate a shop or restaurant that might have a telephone. There has to be a
grocery store somewhere around here, she figured as she walked. Eventually she
came to a major street, where she was able to find public transportation to
take her to her next stop, which turned out to be as drab as the last had been
colorful.

She entered an old, plain office
building and took an elevator to the fifth floor. A piece of paper taped to the
wall indicated the direction in which she could find the office she was
seeking. The hallway was painted a dark benign beige, which was intermittently
interrupted by identical brown doors. The one she wanted had lost its numbers
long ago, and someone had recently chalked the number on the door at average
eye level. Inside, a double line of desks were drearily functioning as
individual offices for mannequin-like people, who managed to ignore her
completely.

“Mr. Roger Davidson,” she called
from the front of the room.

A bald head popped up from a
pile of folders. A hand waved her forward and the man with the bald head stood.
His head swiveled about seeking an unused chair. He found one at a desk that
looked as if whoever had worked there had quit months ago and no one had
bothered to pick up his workload. He wheeled the tired, drab olive office chair
across to his desk. Once they were both seated the man slipped off his glasses
and tried to focus on her face. A small smile showed his approval.

“Todd Coleman sent me.”

The smile sagged.

“I don’t know him.”

Amy whispered the inner sanctum
code word and the man blanched.

“I don’t know anything.”

“He needs help.”

“I’m not the one to see.”

“Who then?”

He shrugged.

Curiosity got the better of her.

“What do you do here?”

“Insurance.”

“Then you don’t work directly
for the government either?”

“Shhhh!”

“Guess not. However, Todd wants
to know whether you can give him any lead on what’s going on.”

“I only know what I saw in the
newspaper.”

“Can you help to straighten
things out?’

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anything.”

Frustrated, Amy raised her
voice.

“Listen, he can’t stay—” Roger
put his index finger to his lips and Amy looked around. No one had even glanced
at them. “What should he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you find out?”

“Can’t. My people don’t want to
be involved.”

“You mean they’re going to cut
him off without any assistance? What if he talks?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“He’s well-trained. Joey, on the
other hand...”

“You have nothing for me to take
back to him or even to tell him?”

He shook his head.

Amy stood, as did Roger, who
then rolled her chair back to the desk that was overburdened with paperwork.
She thought about thanking him, but for what? Politeness didn’t seem to suit
this situation. Even though Roger had returned to his work before she headed
for the exit, she had the feeling he was watching her all the way to the door.
She turned quickly to glimpse the sight of his bald head suddenly dropping toward
his work.

The trip to the grocery store
was less challenging than her other errands, and by the time she got home she
was beginning to feel sorry for Todd. He took the groceries from her at the
door.

“I don’t know how you ever got
any information out of Roger Davidson,” she said, slipping off her shoes. “He
is the most uncommunicative person I’ve ever dealt with. And, believe me,
working at a law firm can bring one into contact with a lot of closed mouthed
individuals.”

“That’s why they use him. He
didn’t know anything, did he?”

“You expected as much?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why did you send me?”

“It was necessary to make sure. And
my sister?”

“I gave her the money. How did
she meet that oaf, anyway?”

“At college. Don’t be surprised.
Neither of them graduated. She was pregnant, and I tried to tell her that I’d
take care of her and the baby. She didn’t need him, but she loved him, or
thought she did.”

“Now you support three children.”

“No. I only help out.”

Todd went into the bathroom and
started running the faucet over the tub. He sprinkled some of her bubble bath
crystals into the water.

“You frequently take bubble
baths?” she asked.

“No. It’s for you. Unless you’d
like me to join you? I thought not,” he said, seeing her jaw tighten. “Perhaps
you’d like to relax while I cook? I put out fresh towels for you. By the way,
did you pick up the wine I asked for?”

“Yes. I also got some pastries
in case the zabaglione doesn’t live up to what’s promised.”

“No faith. How am I going to win
you over, Amy?” he asked, sweeping his fingers through her hair. “Take off your
clothes and hop in. I’ll call you for dinner.”

“My robe?”

“Behind the door.” Todd smiled
and pulled the door a bit forward so that she could see her light cotton robe
hanging on the hook.