“She let your dog lick my face.”
“It’s a high honor. Who are you working for?”
“Martin’s daughter.”
“Which one? The nurse or the FBI agent?”
“The FBI agent. We’re trying to find out why Martin took his life, and I was hoping you might be able to fill in some blanks.”
She took a beer out of a cooler and swigged it. She was trying to play tough, but it was an act, and he watched a stream of beer escape down the side of her mouth. Martin’s death had affected her, even if she hadn’t attended his funeral.
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version, Jon,” she said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “I met Martin at the hospital where we worked. We dated, and I fell for him. He was erudite, charming, and handsome to boot. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Then, out of the blue, he dumped me. I never saw it coming.” Her eyes shifted to a work bench where her tools resided. On it was a framed photo of her and a smiling man sitting on a bike. It was Martin. She choked up and threw her beer at the photo, missing badly and striking the wall.
“Fuck,” she swore. “Why can’t I get over him?”
There was not enough ground to stare at. Hurting people was bad, but it was something else entirely to hurt those who loved you. Martin had done that, in spades.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “You don’t even know me. Look, this is painful. Would you mind getting the hell out of here?”
“I have a couple of questions, then I’ll go.”
“I told you everything. Please leave.”
“Why did someone put a mummified hand on your doorstep?”
Her legs turned to Jell-O. She stuck her other hand out, needing support, and he grabbed a stool from the workbench and had her sit on it. She was like a wounded animal, and filled with fear. He gave her a fresh beer from the cooler.
“I don’t want any more beer,” she said.
“Drink some anyway. It will make you feel better.”
“The voice of experience.” She took a swallow. “You were right. Thank you. To answer your question, they put a disgusting old hand on my doorstep to keep me from talking.”
“About what?”
“Martin’s problem.”
Everyone had problems, but Sircy had used the singular. He helped himself to a cold one and sat down beside her. He clinked his can against hers.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
“I really shouldn’t be talking about this,” she said.
“But you’re going to.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“I’ll give you several. Two masked men broke into Martin’s house yesterday while his daughter Melanie and her family were inside. They managed to escape into a panic room. The burglars ransacked the place. They had guns.”
“My Lord. Please tell me Melanie’s family wasn’t hurt.”
“They’re fine. Now, let’s talk about Martin.”
“Do you know who these men were?”
“A pair of Russian gangsters named Bogdan and Egor Sokolov.”
She shook her head, the names unfamiliar. He pointed at the can and mimed her lifting it to her face. She gave him a wry smile.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Jon?”
“I prefer the term buzzed,” he said. “In my experience, people who are buzzed have an easier time talking about difficult subjects. Drink your beer.”
She did as told. It seemed to relax her, and she winged the empty can across the room into a garbage can without touching the rim. “You remind me of Martin. You both have an unusual sense of humor. Did you know him?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“A pity. Very well. Martin had an addiction for which he did not get help. I have to believe that it was a contributing factor to his suicide.”
“To drugs?”
She shook her head. He was going to have to pry it out of her. He hadn’t seen a lot of alcohol around Martin’s house, but maybe he was hiding it.
“He was a drunk,” he said.
“Hardly touched the stuff. There was no evidence in the house, I suppose.”
“Of what?”
“Martin was addicted to pornography. Some people find that amusing, but trust me, it’s not. Do you know what the definition of an addiction is?” He shook his head, and she said, “It’s when a choice becomes a compulsion. We can enjoy these beers, and then we’ll stop, while an alcoholic will drink until he passes out. That’s a compulsion.
“Martin’s compulsion was hardcore porn. The poor man couldn’t get enough of it. He would look at images of naked women wherever he went. He did it in restaurants, at the beach, even working at the hospital. It cost him his seat on the board.”
“You saw him doing this?”
“I did. At first, I just thought he had an unhealthy relationship with his cell phone, and made little of it. But then one day, I came up behind him, and... well, it was startling, to say the least. He couldn’t have been more embarrassed, and put his phone away.”
“He was looking at pictures?”
“It was a video of a naked couple in bed having wild sex. We were still dating, so I asked him what in God’s name had gotten into him. That’s when he confessed, and told me about his problem. I begged him to get help. He promised me that he would.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t think so. He dumped me a week after that.”
He thought back to the hidden safe in Martin’s study. There had been a laptop computer in it, and he’d been wondering what dark secrets its hard drive might contain. Now, he thought he knew. The laptop contained Martin’s library of porn.
The thought depressed him. Martin Daniels was a dirty old man, and he could only imagine the hurt this was going to cause his daughters. Losing a parent was rough, but over time, the loss was healed by memories. This situation was different. Finding out your dad was a pervert was a hurt you couldn’t wash away.
“What happened at the hospital?” he asked.
“Martin got caught, and tried to lie his way out of it,” Sircy said. “The whole thing blew up in his face, and he lost his seat on the board. It was painful.”
“How did it blow up in his face?”
“I wasn’t the only person that caught Martin looking at dirty pictures. Many of his colleagues had also caught him, but were too embarrassed to confront him. We all knew, but didn’t say anything.”
“The proverbial elephant in the room.”
“Exactly. Unfortunately for Martin, there was an intern named Demetria who was not so accommodating. Demetria was a gofer, who did odd jobs for the doctors. She was given an order of coffee for the board meeting, and she delivered it during the meeting. Martin was sitting with his back to the door with his cell phone in his lap, and didn’t hear Demetria enter the room. She got a bird’s-eye view of a video playing on Martin’s cell phone, and she let out a shriek. She went straight to the head of human resources, and filed a complaint. That’s when the shit hit the fan.”
“What did Martin do?”
“He denied it. I’ve heard it said that if you’re going to tell a lie, tell a big lie, so Martin claimed that Demetria was mistaken, and that he hadn’t been looking at his cell phone when she came in.”
“Turning it into a ‘he said, she said.’”
“Correct.”
“What tripped him up?”
“The board meetings are videotaped for there to be transparency. Martin must have forgotten the camera was rolling, because you can plainly see him take his cell phone from his lap, and flip it facedown on the table. The head of HR saw the video, and smelled a rat. She individually interviewed each board member, and the others confessed that they knew about Martin’s obsession with porn.”