BLACK in the Box (7 page)

“Get me something good and I’ll ante up to Glenlivet, my friend.”

“You do have a way with words, you sly fox. Still dressing like the losingest pimp in Compton?”

“Sylvia’s trying to get me to let her dress me, but I haven’t changed my stripes yet.”

“Like water on stone. They win every time.”

Black was framing a glib response when the door opened and Mary appeared. “Call me when you have something, would you? I’ll be around.”

“Right now, you mean? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“Afraid not.”

“Sounding more like a case of Chivas now.”

“We can negotiate later.” Black hung up and stood. “Mary Allenston, I’m Black. Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Right. Mr. Jacobs told me you’d be here. I’ll help you however I can,” she said, shaking his hand.

Mary seemed jittery, like she was amped on more than just the excitement of meeting him. Black figured it was a fair bet that she was on something to make it through the night – something stronger than coffee. But he wasn’t there to judge her personal habits, which were none of his concern.

Black did his best to put her at ease. “It’s a terrible tragedy, isn’t it?” he asked as she pulled a chair toward the desk and sat.

“Oh, horrible. He was such a nice young man. So polite. Very dependable. I only knew him for a short time, but…”

“It must have everyone on edge.”

“Of course it does. There’s a murderer among us. Wouldn’t that set your teeth to grating?”

Black reminded himself that nobody but he knew about Bethany’s impending arrest. “No doubt about it. It must have traumatized the girl that found him, too.”

“I’m sure. She was barely coherent. Talk about traumatic. Can you imagine?”

“What can you tell me about her?”

“Bethany? Oh, she’s a lovely girl. Hard worker; cute. I have nothing bad to say about her,” Mary said, but her eyes darted to the side for a split second.

“She’s a supervisor?”

“That’s right.” Mary nodded. “Customer relations.”

Black took her through a description of what that meant, hoping she’d grow calmer with the familiar subject, but it didn’t work. She did her best, but was obviously uncomfortable with the questions. After ten minutes of largely fruitless inquiry on the backgrounds of the employees, about all of whom Mary spoke glowingly, he switched gears. “Who was the last person to see Alec alive?”

Mary cleared her throat. “I already answered all these questions with the police, Mr. Black.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s tiring to repeat them again, but it’s part of the process. If you’d entertain me a little longer, I’d really appreciate it.”

That seemed to appease her. “Henry was the last to see him before the attack.”

“Henry Heung.” Black looked at the list of names. “The security guard.”

“His title is security supervisor. He gets touchy if you call him a guard,” Mary corrected.

“I see.” Black looked at his watch. “Think he’d be in yet?”

“Oh, probably. He’s one of those that always shows up early, you know?”

“Sure. Where does he hang out?”

“Mostly in the back, near the loading area. He’s got an office there.”

Black stood just as his phone vibrated. He checked the screen.

Sylvia.

Mary gave him an impatient look, and he slid the cell back into his jacket pocket, making a mental note to call her back when he was done with Mary and Henry. He expected her to be furious, but now wasn’t the time for an extended phone battle.

“Sorry. Can you show me where that is?” Black asked.

“Sure. You want to go right now?”

“Yes. Lead the way.”

Mary walked like a much older woman, and Black had a sudden surge of sympathy for her. She’d been interrogated by the police for hours, had probably been unable to sleep from worry over who’d killed Alec, and now was being subjected to Black’s third degree.

“Long one last night, huh?”

She threw him a dark look over her shoulder as they walked down one of the aisles, past the carpets and flooring. “You have no idea what it was like.”

Black nodded.

He definitely knew the feeling.

Chapter 11

Sylvia slammed the phone down after her second attempt to reach Black, fuming over his not picking up. There was no way he had the phone off. He had to know it was her calling, and he was doing what he always did – avoiding her until she cooled down, or till he’d had a chance to get a few shots of liquid courage into his system.

She moved back to the computer and slid the mouse to the side. A travel agency website blinked at her. The date in the selection window was tomorrow morning; the trip she’d been checking: one-way to Zurich, Switzerland.

The tension between them had been building for months, and she’d steeled herself for the breakup. They’d gone back and forth over what they both wanted, and while he’d said all the right words, she was finally having to admit to herself that none of it was true. She eventually wanted a family, whereas it was clear that he viewed that as too much responsibility, particularly financially. Sylvia understood his point, but she also recognized that people all over the world with far less than they had managed to raise children, albeit with some sacrifice.

Because they thought it was worth it.

Obviously, he didn’t.

She had gently reminded him that nobody was getting any younger, but he’d shrugged it off, arguing that he was still in his prime. It never seemed to occur to him that she might have been referring to herself.

The question was how long she was prepared to wait for what seemed now like a foregone conclusion. Perhaps leaving was the right decision. She could always return if she felt like she’d made a mistake, but at this point she didn’t see any point in remaining in an untenable situation. Her art would sell whether she was in town or not, so the only reason to stay was Black.

Who couldn’t even be bothered to answer the phone, and was doing precisely what he knew had started this round of fighting in the first place.

Her finger hovered over the mouse as she thought through her move. After a long exhalation, she selected the fare and pressed enter. The computer churned for the longest seconds in her life, flashed blue, and then congratulated her on her purchase.

It was done.

Her time in Los Angeles was over, and she’d be returning home for the holidays.

The truth was that she’d been contemplating it for weeks, but the last-minute deep discount fare had made it an easier decision. The airlines were trying to fill empty seats, to her benefit.

She tried to imagine how Black would feel when she was gone in the morning, and realized with a sinking heart that he might not even be back by the time she took off. Which was somehow fitting – a metaphor applicable to their entire relationship, with him oblivious while she planned for a future that was in reality nothing but a fiction.

Sylvia walked slowly to the bedroom and began packing her things. Fortunately, she lived like she traveled, with a minimum of clutter, all of her measly possessions easily fitting into a suitcase and a carry-on. She stopped halfway through and her shoulders heaved as she sobbed quietly, a part of her still hoping the phone would ring, another hating herself for the thought. After a few moments of self-pity, she pulled herself together and resumed gathering her belongings, forcing herself to ignore Black’s collection of suits hanging in the closet beside her tops.

What had she been thinking? It now seemed all too clear. He would never change, would continue fighting internal skirmishes over his parents’ role in his life, and simply grow into an older version of the same man. Her hope that he’d mature into a decent human being had been a delusion, as silly as waiting for Mugsy to learn to play chess.

The smell of his cologne and the musky odor of the cigarettes she knew he sneaked in spite of his assurances he’d quit for good hit her like a brick as she pushed his clothes aside to retrieve hers, and another wave of despair washed over her. This time she refused to give in to the urge to cry, and with a shudder, finished with the closet and moved to the bathroom. She refused to look at her phone on the breakfast bar, squared her shoulders, and continued packing. Her decision was made: there was only one direction for her from here.

Into a future without Black.

For better or worse.

Chapter 12

Henry Heung, seated beside an impressive array of closed-circuit television monitors, turned out to be a wiry man in his late twenties with a modish haircut and a pencil-thin mustache. Mary introduced Black and went back to the administrative offices, leaving the pair to their own devices. Black took a seat across from Henry and launched straight into his questions, wanting to get the process over with so he could collect his money and go home.

“So you’ve been here for three years?”

“That’s right.”

“You must like it.”

Henry shrugged. “It’s a job.”

Black noted that his watch was a stainless steel and gold Rolex Datejust and smiled. “Not a terrible one if you can afford that.”

Henry made a face. “This? It’s a knockoff.”

“Really? I always considered buying one. Can I see it?”

Another shrug, and Henry held out his wrist for closer inspection. Black studied the watch for a few seconds and smiled. “That’s a good one. Would have fooled me.”

“I think that’s the whole point.”

“How well did you know Alec?”

“So-so. Seemed like a decent guy, but I didn’t have much reason to talk to him other than to complain about all the equipment on the blink.”

“That fairly common?”

Henry nodded. “The owner holds off till the last second on everything. Smart for his wallet, but annoying.”

Black eyed the monitors. “Don’t suppose you have footage of the corridor in the back office, do you?”

“Nope. These cameras are mainly to prevent theft. They cover the front lot, the entrances, the cash registers, and a few around the store.”

“Why are those two off?” Black asked, pointing to a pair of dark screens.

“The cameras are broken. Have been for a few days. Guy’s supposed to come out tomorrow.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Like he was today.”

“Good help is hard to find, huh?”

“Always.”

“What area do they monitor?”

“Employee entrance and the back lot. That’s why it isn’t a priority for Larry.”

“Oh, you know the owner?”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Not really. I mean, he comes around and does his thing, but usually during the day. I’ve met him a few times. I should have said Mr. Jacobs.”

It was Black’s turn to shrug. “Doesn’t bother me.” He paused. “Tell me about Alec.”

“There isn’t a lot to tell, really. He mostly kept to himself.”

“You don’t sound like you’re too broken up about the murder.”

“How am I supposed to be? I’m dog tired, the cops put me through the wringer last night, and now you’re here.”

“I understand it’s an imposition. But Jacobs – Larry – asked me to do this. So help me out, would you?”

“Okay, if you want the truth, Alec was kind of a dick sometimes. I mean, he had this attitude, like he was better than everyone, you know? But that doesn’t make me happy that someone took an axe to him.”

“Why do you think he acted like that?”

“He gave me crap about being a rent-a-cop a few times, like he was some serious hard-ass ex-army commando or something. But as far as I could tell, he pushed a pencil while he was in the service, so it was just an example of him looking for a reason to feel superior.”

“I could see where that would be annoying.”

“Yeah. I mean, Kyle, he’s like seriously hard, you know? Like, he saw action, and you can tell. He thought Alec was full of it too.”

“Kyle, huh? I guess I’ll meet him tonight.”

Henry glanced at his watch. “Everyone should be here in another fifteen minutes or so.”

Black nodded appreciatively at the Rolex. “I really have to get one of those. How much did it cost?”

“Few hundred bucks. I don’t remember. It was a while ago.”

“Yeah? Where did you pick it up?”

“From a guy I know.”

Black switched back to business and took him through a series of softball questions before returning to the murder and the security monitors. “Did the cops go through the footage last night?”

“Of course. I burned them a DVD. Not much on it, with the store closed.”

“Does everyone know where the cameras are mounted?”

“Beats me. But I’d think so. I mean, it’s not like they’re super stealth or anything. They’re out in the open, mounted to the beams.”

“But nothing that catches the entrance to the front office?”

“Nope. No reason to, like I said.”

“Then whoever killed Alec would have known how to avoid the cameras.”

“Obviously, since there’s nobody on the tape carrying an axe.”

“Back to Alec. Was he especially friendly with anyone here?”

“He mainly kept to his little hole. And of course, I mean, I’m sure Mary told you he was dating Nancy, right?”

Black didn’t blink. “She mentioned it.”

“Other than that, he just did his job and kept his head down.”

“Did he have much interaction with Bethany?”

“Not really. I mean, I’m not that involved with the day-to-day, you know? We’re all just serving our time here.”

“You mentioned Nancy. What can you tell me about her?”

“Not a ton. She’s nice, polite, local chick. Pretty vanilla. So’s Bethany, for that matter.”

“Did she meet Alec here?”

“Who – Nancy or Bethany?”

“Nancy.”

“Nah. They’d been going out for a while. I think she was the one that got him the gig.”

“What about Bethany? How well did he know her?”

“Like I said. As far as I could tell, just work-related.”

“Anybody here you can think of who’d have a reason to bury an axe in Alec’s back?” Black asked casually, as if he were asking Henry’s favorite color.

“Not really. That’s why this is a mystery, right? I told the cops the same thing.”

“Right.” Motion caught Black’s eye on one of the monitors. Two women were strolling past a cash register. “Looks like they’re arriving.”