Nice Place for a Murder (3 page)

“You investigate the investigators, then?”

“Of course.” Julian said. “So I know Teague is a malicious, single-minded fellow you’d rather not deal with. Sleazy looking, too. Not someone you’d take to dinner, but then again, perhaps a good man to have on your side in a fight.” He dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand, and leaned back into his chair. “About the accident today, I believe it’s more of a public relations project now than an investigative matter.”

“Do you?”

“Kenny Newalis was an officer of a good-sized company. His loss will be felt throughout the organization, and beyond. The industry will want to know how we’re going to deal with that loss. The financial markets, too.”

“Why should the financial boys care? You own the company. There are no other stockholders.”

“There are, actually. A few shares here and there, to valuable people. But you’re out of touch, Ben Seidenberg. If you were still in New York instead of out here on the North Fork, you’d know there’s talk about Julian Communications going public.”

“Is it true?”

“There’s always that chance.” Julian shrugged his brawny shoulders. I watched his oversize biceps move beneath his blue T-shirt. “Many rumors of that kind end up being true. Yes?”

“Are you telling me the death of Newalis comes at a particularly bad time?”

“Why would you think that’s what I meant?” Julian said, shaking his head.

“Reading between the lines. It’s a talent investigators are supposed to cultivate. If there’s a public offering, the loss of a key executive could be embarrassing. Or at least, it could muddy the waters for you.”

“Accidents happen. People understand that.”

“Sometimes.” I stood. The sliding glass doors that defined an entire wall of the great-room were open, and the vista drew me through them onto the cantilevered deck that extended high above the beach and the dock. It was like floating over the bay.

“The man drowned,” Julian said.

“By accident?”

Ingo Julian rose and followed me onto the deck, digging his hands into his pockets and striding deliberately. “We saw him go under with our own eyes. Right from where you and I are standing. He was out there all by himself. Those are facts. Why would you think it wasn’t an accident?”

“I didn’t say what I thought. I asked what you thought.” The sun was sinking now, the horizon blazing red-orange.

Julian’s hand on my shoulder. “I respect your pursuing what you believe to be Empire’s responsibilities here. I recognize this and I appreciate it. But the facts in this matter are unambiguous. Inventing far-fetched scenarios for what happened would be counterproductive, and possibly contrary to the best interests of Julian Communications. You can acknowledge my point of view. Yes?”

“It makes sense as far as it goes.”

“You think I don’t go far enough?”

“That’s right. But don’t mistake my motives, Mr. Julian. Your concerns are my concerns.”

“Ingo. Call me Ingo.”

“Interesting. I call you Ingo but you call me Seidenberg.”

“Yes, it is interesting, isn’t it?” Julian ran a hand over his hairless head.

“When you were watching Newalis swim, and when you ran down after he got into trouble, did you see a boat here, a commercial fisherman?” I stepped to the railing and pointed toward the water offshore. All at once the height and a sudden illusion of no support beneath disoriented me. For an instant I felt I might actually topple over the railing, and a sudden swell of anxiety prompted me to step back.

Julian was watching me. “Others have had that reaction. Something about the design of this deck, the way it extends out into the void. It scares people. For me, it’s the best feature of the house.” He leaned far out over the railing. “Being here excites me. It’s like soaring above the earth.”

“About the boat,” I said.

“The boat?”

The subject was making him uneasy. I kept silent and waited for him to continue.

“Yes, a boat.” Ingo said, finally. “I believe there was a boat.”

“At anchor?”

“Perhaps. I’m not sure.”

“Did you call to the boat for help when you saw Newalis go under?”

“It
occurred to me, but it was far away, and I couldn’t see anyone on it, anyway. He must have been on the other side, facing Greenport. Fishing, I suppose. We didn’t have time to worry about the boat, Lisa and I. We were racing to reach poor Kenny.”

“Yes, poor Kenny. Did you see the boat after you found Newalis and pulled him ashore?”

“I have no idea. I had no reason to be concerned with the boat. We were trying to save Kenny’s life. I’m beginning to sense you’re cross-examining me, Seidenberg. Yes?”

“You pay us to dig out facts for you,” I said. “That’s what I’m doing. You don’t have the whole picture.”

“And you do?”

“Let’s say I have a different perspective.” I paced across the deck and back again, processing my thoughts, as Ingo waited silently. “Think about this. Why should a commercial craft be anchored here? There are nothing but porgies in this part of the bay, and commercial boats don’t bother with them. It was slack tide, anyway. The fishing slows up when the tide stops running. He wasn’t after fish.”

“Maybe he had engine problems. Maybe he was cleaning his catch. Maybe he stopped to urinate.”

“None of the above,” I said. “Look down there. There’s my boat in the slip on the right. See the windshield? A bullet did that. The guy on the boat was still here when I motored up, and he started shooting at me. I chased him east toward the Sound, but he outran me. He knocked out one of my engines, and I was no match for him with just the other one.” A narrowing sliver of sun remained above the horizon, and now I felt the October chill distinctly. “So, are my concerns far-fetched?”

“I don’t know who shot at you, but it wasn’t anyone in the boat out there during the accident.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I remember seeing that boat leave when we pulled Kenny ashore. It went off to the west, toward Southold.”

“Are you sure? Did you catch the name of the boat?”

“I was occupied trying to start a man’s breathing. I wasn’t looking for something painted on the side of a boat.”

“On the stern, actually. You did say you saw the boat leave.”

“You’re cross-examining me again, Seidenberg.”

“Was it Lulu? Because that’s the name of the boat I tangled with.”

“Asked and answered,” Julian said brusquely. “I can’t confirm what I don’t know for a fact.”

Client or no, Ingo Julian was being more difficult than he had a right to be. It was clear he’d rather I went away, but that wasn’t an option now, not for me. “Somebody shot at me,” I said. “I find that irritating. I also think it’s not much of a leap from my skirmish on the bay to some kind of connection to the drowning. So I think maybe we ought to take a long look into the circumstances of just how poor Kenny expired. That’s what I think. What do you think, Ingo?”

Again, Julian sidestepped. “I regret the damage to your boat. Have it fixed and I’ll pay for it,” he said. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go in. Yes?” He moved back into the great-room, waiting for me to follow before sliding the glass doors shut.

Ingo was stonewalling me, and I felt my disposition heating up. Any more of this exchange, and I’d be saying things to the chief executive officer of Julian Communications that could put my financial future into jeopardy. Thus I was not at all unhappy to recognize the voice of Hector Alzarez as he strode through the archway into the room. “You honor us, Ben.”

His attire was, as always, flawless. His dark gray pin-stripes from Paul Stuart on Madison Avenue were miraculously wrinkle-free, despite Hector’s two-and-a-half hour ride from Manhattan on the Long Island Expressway. Inevitably he looked too good to be real, but he was real, all right. Better than real. He was incisive and shrewd and more than a little canny. If he felt there was a need for me, I knew he had reasons.

CHAPTER III

“I come when you call,” I said to Hector. “Now tell me why you called.”

“I think you’re a skilled man in a crisis. You have a way of dealing with situations before they become unpleasant. You make people feel secure,” he said. “I thought you’d be flattered. Did I disturb your retirement?” He started to slip out of his suit jacket, then stopped and looked to Ingo, as if to ask permission. Ingo replied silently as well, with a strained smile and a scarcely perceptible why-should-I-care shrug. Hector slid the jacket off, gracefully, slowly, folded it meticulously and laid it across the back of a chair.

I said, “Yes, I was flattered. And yes, you did disturb my retirement. ”

“I’m trying to be gracious,” Hector said. “Teague told me you were in your boat fishing when he got to you on this case.”

There was an edge to Ingo’s voice. “Please don’t refer to this incident as a case, Hector. It’s not a case and not a crisis. This is — was — an accident, yes?” He moved about the room, switching on lamps against the approaching sunset. “I was there. I saw it happen.”

“Does anyone think it wasn’t an accident?” Hector said.

“Only Seidenberg has mentioned that possibility,” Ingo said. “Not the ambulance people, not the police. Certainly not me, and I don’t think Lisa, either. Go ask her.”

“Were you swimming with Kenny when it happened?” Hector said.

“I didn’t go in till we ran down to go after Kenny,” Ingo said. “I’d planned to swim, but I was too busy today.”

“There’s something you should know,” I said

Ingo jumped in quickly. The look on his face betrayed his impatience at an account of events other than his own. “Seidenberg had an unpleasant incident on his way here. But there’s no reason to think  —“

“A guy in a boat just offshore here shot at me,” I said, “He got away.”

Ingo frowned. “And what did that have to do with Kenny?”

“I’ll find out.”

“Don’t do it on my account,” Ingo said. “You understand my position on this, yes?” He took Hector by the elbow and turned him away from me, as though that would somehow assure their privacy. “I don’t think there’s a need for Seidenberg. We’ve had a tragedy, but there’s nothing more to be done, is there? Let’s move on.” He glared at Hector with an intensity that said this was more than a suggestion.

But Hector was far too confident to be unsettled, even by the high voltage of Ingo Julian. He moved close to the man, radiating his best I’ve-got-this-under-control manner. “I understand your concern. Give me a few minutes to square this away with Ben.”

There was a clumsy silence. “I’ll be in the library,” Ingo said, finally, and turned to walk through the archway. Watching him from the back, I noticed for the first time he had an odd, rolling gait that pitched him forward slightly each time he stepped out on his right leg. Old damage from the crash, I thought. He halted and turned. “Thank you, Seidenberg. I appreciate your coming. Hector, be sure to thank Teague for sending him.” And he was gone.

“Do that, Hector,” I said. “By all means, thank Teague for sending me.”

Hector knew Ingo’s mention of Roger was an irritation. He touched my shoulder and gave me a knowing smile. He was so adept at this, smoothing matters over, stroking you, making you forget you were angry. “You know how Ingo is, Ben.”

“No, how is he?”

“He’s stubborn and autocratic and inconsiderate to the point of rudeness. He’s also a
clear minded leader who makes every decision based entirely upon what’s best for Julian Communications.”

“Whether it’s right or not, I suppose.”

Hector moved to a chair and settled into it. “Right? Come on, Ben, only politicians and clergymen talk about what’s right, and even they don’t mean it. In the end, when they say something’s the right thing to do, you can bet they mean it’s consistent with their own agendas.”

“You shock me, Hector. Don’t you believe in the rule of law?”

“Law, yes. I’m all for law. Took an oath. What does that have to do with right? Come and sit down. Ingo told me his version of everything on the phone. Now you talk to me.”

I didn’t feel like sitting, so I paced in front of him. “I’m saddened to learn how the world of Julian Communications really works.”

He grinned and shook his head. “How did you get so righteous, Ben Seidenberg, tapper of phones, intimidator of enemies, hoodwinker of lawmen, professional hard-ass.”

“Retired professional hard-ass,” I said. ”I’m not making judgments, Hector. The morality of Julian Communications is none of my business. Empire Security will do anything you tell us. Almost anything. But there’s been a death I think is suspicious, and I’ve been shot at with serious intent, on the water just out there. You’re too smart to believe in coincidences. But now your big guy is trying to blow it all off. I won’t just let it go. There are bullet holes in my boat, pal.”

“I’m waiting,” he said. “Tell me.”

I walked and talked, detailing it all, starting from Teague’s summons at Plum Gut. I told him what I saw, what I thought, what Ingo said, what Lisa Harper said. Every time I crossed in front of the chair in which Hector sat, I could sense the barest trace of his cologne hanging in the air. The good stuff, rich and complex, a hundred and fifty bucks a bottle. But of course, this was Hector Alzarez.