Project Moses - A Mystery Thriller (Enzo Lee Mystery-Thriller Series) (16 page)

“Yes. Nothing.” Sarah took a gulp of her beer. “We just continued on and on for four years and nothing changed. I moved in. We talked about buying a place and never did. We talked about getting married and maybe having kids, but never did. It dawned on me one day that Bill was perfectly happy with his life the way it was. The room that he made for me was just that. A room. He didn’t want me to invade any more of his life.”

Lee gulped. It occurred to him that one or two women in his past might well be describing him in pretty much the same terms Sarah was using at that very instant at some other bar in some other part of the world. Oh well. He’d started the conversation after all.

“It sounds like the two of you had different expectations,” he offered.

“Obviously. He wanted something static. I wanted something that wasn’t defined ahead of time, that could grow and change.” Sarah banged her glass down a little too hard. “And what about you, Mister Tell-Me-The-Story-Of-Your-Life? What are you doing on the streets at…how old are you, anyway?”

“A few years younger than Bill. I guess I started this, didn’t I?” said Lee. “All right. Where to start? I guess my one truly
serious
relationship was with a woman I lived with most of the time I was in New York. We met in Florida.”

“Does this woman have a name?” asked Sarah.

“Karen was her name. She was an artist…a designer, actually. We met through friends and it was infatuation at first sight. Actually, most of the time it was very good between us. At least I thought so.”

“So? What happened?”

“Hmmm. What happened?” mulled Lee. “Well, how much do you know about my time in New York? I mean professionally as far as being a reporter here?”

“I heard you had some trouble,” Sarah admitted. “That’s all I know.”

“‘Trouble’ is a nice way to put it,” said Lee. “It was very close to professional suicide. And very self inflicted. I made a huge mistake, got a story wrong and it blew up in my face. It was like watching your house burn down slowly, over 30 days.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah.

“Yeah. That makes two of us,” said Lee. “Three, actually, if you count Karen. I was basically out of commission for six months. Self pity. Self hate. Almost self immolation. It was miserable being me and I can’t imagine what it was like living with me.

“Karen moved on,” Lee continued. “We occupied the same apartment but, as I said, I really wasn’t there in any recognizable human form. She found someone else.

“Losing her was a real kick to the gut,” said Lee. “It was like watching your most valuable possession slip through your fingers and when you close your hand, it’s too late. That actually brought me back, though. It was like emotional shock treatment.”

“And you and she couldn’t get back together?” asked Sarah.

Lee shook his head. “It was too late. She had moved on.”

Lee drained the dregs of the pint in front of him and set the glass down.

“So, you’re looking at damaged goods,” he said. “A failure at relationships and disgraced as a journalist. You’re stuck with the ‘B’ team.”

“Hmmm. I think I fancy the ‘B’ team,” said Sarah.

“Oh. That’s nice,” said Lee. “When you say ‘fancy’ do you mean…ah…maybe…that…umm…”

“Yes,” said Sarah.

“No, what I mean is, aside from being in this mess together would you…ah…”

“Yes.”

“So. Does that mean that you…”

“Yes.”

“Sooo…ah…maybe I should get the check?”

“Yes,” said Sarah. “I would.”

The streets were still busy on the short walk back to the hotel. They turned down a quiet lane for the last block. Lee took her hand in his and felt her gentle squeeze back. He could feel the effect of her touch down to his toes. He was vibrating like a tuning fork.

When the door to the elevator slid shut, Lee put his hand on Sarah’s neck and pulled her toward him. Her mouth was cool and her lips pushed back against his. He felt her tongue. Then, Sarah suddenly broke it off. She pushed him away but continued holding his arms. She looked him directly in the eyes.

“Look,” she said. “I find you very attractive. And I don’t require prospects of marriage or even a long-term commitment to become involved with someone I like. But, I have one rule. I never make out in elevators. I got nauseated going up a skyscraper once.” Sarah smiled apologetically.

“Great,” said Lee, falling back against the side of the elevator. “I’m stuck with the one woman in Manhattan who pukes in elevators and the slowest fucking Otis in America. I’m cursed. This just proves it.”

When the doors finally opened, Sarah backed out of the elevator, holding Lee’s hands in her own. After the outer doors slid shut, she shoved him hard against them and pulled his head down to hers.

They embraced, their lips, tongues and teeth colliding, pulling apart and then coming together again as Sarah pressed herself against Lee. She pushed her leg against him so she could feel his erection and she pressed herself hard against his thigh. He pulled her hips even tighter against him. After a couple of minutes, Lee pushed himself away from the closed elevator doors and Sarah shoved him back.

“What’s the matter?” she whispered as she flicked a tongue into Lee’s ear. “Afraid of heights?”

“Yeah,” said Lee, as he licked her neck. “I figure we’ve only got 17 seconds until the elevator gets back here and I fall flat on my ass.”

He pushed Sarah away, put a comfortable distance between them and the elevator shaft, and took Sarah’s hand as they walked to their room. For a horrified moment, he thought he had lost the room key before finding it in a shirt pocket.

Once inside, Lee dropped to his knees and pulled Sarah down to hers. While they kissed, he unbuttoned her blouse and then ran his fingers inside and under her bra. When the back of his fingertips touched Sarah’s nipples, she gasped and pulled back a little. Then, she smiled through her kiss and whispered, “Cold hands.”

Lee inched his right hand up Sarah’s back, kneading the muscles lightly as she did a slow half shimmy against the pressure. He found the clasp and took a few seconds to unfasten her bra. His lips felt Sarah smile again as he ran his hands over both breasts and teased her now erect nipples. Sarah reached down, rubbed his erection and ran her hand down, lightly caressing his crotch.

After they had stripped each other to the waist, Lee found Sarah’s nipple with his mouth and ran his tongue around in tighter and tighter circles while Sarah clutched his hair. Her breathing became labored. She stopped him from switching sides, leaned away from him and ran her fingers through her hair in that nervous gesture he remembered from their first meeting. Then Sarah began to unfasten his pants.

When they had completely undressed each other, they moved to the bed and lay on their sides. Lee ran the fingertips of one hand slowly and lightly down her stomach and between her legs. Sarah moved her legs apart and Lee kissed her neck and deeply inhaled her scent as he began to gently explore.

“Mmmmmm,” she murmured lazily. “Warm hands.”

Finally, Sarah pulled his hand away, rolled onto her back and pulled Lee on top. She guided him inside of her. They started slow but that didn’t last long. Sarah waited until she felt a change in Lee’s breathing and an urgency in his movements before she let herself go. She came first with a prolonged shudder that helped pushed Lee over the edge a few seconds later. They laughed together in gasps as they regained their breath until they found a slow, matching rhythm. They fell asleep entwined, each with an arm draped over the other. As Lee drifted off, he could feel Sarah’s breath, slow and steady on his chest.

Chapter 20

LEE DRAINED HIS coffee cup and set it on the saucer. He picked up the telephone the next morning and dialed the number that Brent Donsen had written in his Rolodex file next to Benjamin Nussbaum’s name. He hoped Donsen hadn’t inadvertently omitted the area code. The person who answered it was an operator at the switchboard at Columbia University. He asked for Benjamin Nussbaum. After a 20-second wait, he could hear the phone ring again.

“Hello,” answered a young male voice.

“Hello. Is Mr. Nussbaum there?”

“
Professor
Nussbaum is not in at the moment.”

“When will he be in.”

“Well, his office hours are one to four this afternoon. But, you should make an appointment if you want to see him.”

“I see. Well, I’ll call back later and make an appointment with him. Can you tell me exactly what kind of professor he is?”

“Professor Nussbaum is the
chairman
of the Biology Department.”

“Thank you.”

After he hung up, Lee walked over to Sarah who was standing by the window watching joggers circle Washington Square. He embraced her from behind and kissed her neck.

“We got a date at Columbia for one o’clock,” he murmured. “Now, what do you think about calling your friend at Justice.”

“Who?” said Sarah, pulling away and looking over her shoulder at Lee with a puzzled expression. “You mean the one who wanted to know my telephone number, address, social security number and my brand of mouthwash? He’s the last one I want to talk to.”

“Look. I think we should try to establish some kind of contact with the feds. Presumably, they know something about AgriGenics. At least we know Donsen had some contact with the company or was looking into it. If we can convince them that AgriGenics, or someone connected to it, took out their guy, that could be our best hope. Face it. We need all the help we can get.”

“Okay, then,” said Sarah, pulling away from Lee. “
You
talk to him if you want to so badly. As far as I’m concerned, he’s bad news. But, if you want to try him, be my guest.”

Sarah dialed the main Justice Department number in New York. When the switchboard answered, she asked for Brent Donsen’s secretary. She introduced herself to the secretary, reminding her of their conversation two days earlier, and asked to speak to the same man that Sarah had been transferred to then. When she was put on hold, Sarah handed the telephone to Lee.

“Hello. Miss Armstrong. Miss Armstrong.” The insistent voice came over the line.

“Hello. This is a friend of Miss Armstrong’s.”

“Who are you? Where are you? Where is Miss Armstrong?”

“We’re in New York. We thought you might be interested in some information we have about a case Brent Donsen was investigating when he died.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Lee continued, “It involved a company called AgriGenics.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Even if there is an investigation into this company, I couldn’t confirm it. Of course, if you have some information you think might be of interest to us, we’ll listen. Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll come by.”

“We can meet,” said Lee. “But I want to do it somewhere else. Do you know Howard’s on the Park, by the Museum of Natural History?”

“Sure. I know it. Okay, but I can’t make it before four o’clock.”

“All right. My name is Lee. I’m six feet. Black hair. Half Chinese. I’ll be wearing a Yankees shirt. I’ll meet you just inside the door.”

“All right, Mr. Lee. I’m Agent Spreckel. People say I look like a tall Mickey Rooney.”

Lee laughed. “I can’t wait,” he said.

“Will Miss Armstrong be there?”

“Maybe. Tell me. How did you know she would be calling?”

“Miss Armstrong? Oh…we didn’t. All inquiries regarding Brent Donsen are being referred to me. I can’t explain why over the phone, but maybe we can discuss that this afternoon.”

After he’d hung up the phone, Lee described Spreckel’s end of the conversation. When he finished, Sarah shook her head.

“He’s lying, Enzo. Donsen’s secretary definitely recognized my name. I don’t like it.”

“Well, what’s the worst that can happen?” said Lee, putting his arms around Sarah and giving her a hard kiss. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Look, you’ll stay here in case anything happens. If I don’t come back, find the best lawyer an American Express card can buy.”

He tried to kiss her again but she shunned him this time, still upset about the call to Spreckel. Lee shrugged and picked up the phone to make one more call, this one to Lorraine Carr back at the News.

“Lorraine. Yes. It’s me. I’m in New York. No, I’m not on assignment. I told Pilmann I had some personal problems I’m working out and I’m taking vacation. But, I need a big favor.”

“I need to know what happened to Arthur Sendaki. You know, how did he get eased out of AgriGenics? Who did it? How? The works. There’s got to be a former director or some attorney around who would know. Look, if there’s a great story we’ll share it, okay? Right, the Pulitzer, too. And I’ll throw in a leather belt, extra studs.”

“We’re staying at the Washington Hotel, room 813,” Lee went on. “
We
is yours truly and a lady named Sarah. Now, don’t start. I don’t kid you about Black Bart, do I? I’m under the name Darrel Johnson. Don’t ask, Lorraine. Listen, I owe you big time for this.”

•   •   •

LEE AND SARAH entered the Columbia University campus from the entrance on Broadway. They walked down the wide path that runs in front of the expansive stairway leading up to the Low Library, a granite structure capped with an impressive rotunda and built with ten massive columns in the style of a Greek temple. They skirted the outside of Low Library and walked past the business school to the biology department.

Nussbaum’s office was on the second floor of a nondescript metal and glass building. The door was ajar. Lee knocked and looked in at Nussbaum sitting at his desk.

Nussbaum was a big man in his 50s. He had a mane of white hair that seemed to radiate straight out from his head as if electrified. He had a full beard, also white but more tame than his hair. He was wearing a wrinkled, brown corduroy jacket and open shirt. A green scarf lay on a corner of the desk. Lee guessed he cut quite a distinctive figure strolling through campus.

“Professor Nussbaum?” said Lee.

“Hello. Yes. What can I do for you?” he said in a low, gravelly voice.