I must have drifted off because the ringing woke me. It was a phone, a phone close by, but I didn’t recognize the ring tone. It took a few moments to track it down, coming from my dresser, the pay-as-you-go phone. I let it ring, it stopped on the fifth ring. I hadn’t set up any voice mail on the thing so it must have disconnected. I checked after a couple of minutes, no message, caller unknown. It was three-forty in the morning. There was only one place I’d left that number, on Doctor Death’s recording to schedule an appointment. I had said I was from Wells Fargo, attempted to disguise my voice, sounding like some banking jerk. I spent the rest of the night awake, wondering how effective my attempt had been.
I woke to the sound of my cell-phone ringing, Sentinel Monitoring. I punched in the numbers, then pound, the thing was ringing again when I came out of the bathroom.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Yeah Dev, Louie Laufen, I just signed off on everything and your packet is waiting to be messengered over to Manning in Homicide this morning.”
“Would it help if I ran it over there?” I glanced at my watch, nine-forty-five.
“Really bad idea, no, in fact that could only make things worse. It’ll be over there in the next hour or so. Everything checked out, so this is great news for us, but expect something, maybe all of it to be questioned initially. Once they comb through it, they’ll see how solid we are.”
“Hey, pass on my thanks to your boy Nelson, he did a hell of a job.”
“He’s a good kid. You learn anything else that might help? I’d be more than happy to pile it on.”
“No nothing, I’ll keep looking into things, but I haven’t come up with anything, yet. What do you think about the guy at the U?” I immediately wished I’d never asked the question about Doctor Death.
“Kevork? What do I think? I think it’s interesting, but at this stage just hearsay. I’m not saying there isn’t something there, but Manning’s going to put it to the side until he can tie it in, solidly. By the way, that’s not necessarily a bad trait.”
“Guy’s a prick.”
“Probably, but he’s a straight shooting one. I know you two rub each other the wrong way, but he’s not gonna railroad you, Dev.”
“We’ll see.”
I listened to three of the KRAZ broadcasts from the safety of my office, one was worse than the next. I got home a little before six that evening, there was a note on the door from Heidi, asking me to give her a call.
“Hello,” she sounded way too cheery to have this go my way.
“Hi Heidi, Dev, got your note on my door.”
“Oh yeah, thanks for calling.”
“Course. What’s up, why didn’t you just call me?”
“Didn’t want to bother you, besides I wanted to pick out the color and get it.”
“Color?”
“Yeah, paint for my bedroom. I need it painted, tomorrow, that is if you’ve got the time.”
She said the last part like she knew I didn’t have much else going on.
“Time, well, yeah, I guess. I mean, you want to think about it, do you want me to pick up paint or anything?”
“I already told you, I picked up the paint.”
“Okay.”
“Waterbury Cream”
“Okay.”
“It’s sitting right here in the front entry. Can you be here tomorrow morning?”
“I could be over there tonight if you want,” I was thinking positive, maybe painting with benefits.
“No.” She sounded awfully definite.
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, look I got a ten o’clock so be here around nine-fifteen, okay?” It wasn’t really a question.
“Yeah, nine-fifteen.” What the hell, I had a lot to think about and could do it while I painted.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I suppose there is something to be said for attacking a simple task, uninterrupted, work away, just letting one’s mind percolate. I was of the impression I could have achieved the same result staring out my office window or maybe sipping a beer. Nonetheless, I reported to Heidi’s. Her Mercedes was parked out on the street. I parked behind it and rang the doorbell promptly at nine-thirty.
“Where the hell have you been, I told you I had an appointment this morning?”
She was dressed in a matching pink t-shirt and tight, pink shorts, with a white belt. She wore white sandals with little jewel things on them. She carried a straw purse large enough to hide a small child inside.
“Since when do you go to client meetings dressed like that? You going to the beach or something?”
“I didn’t say it was a client meeting.”
“Oh, what are we up to?”
“None of your business. The paint’s in my bedroom, I’ll expect it finished and cleaned up by the end of the day. I’m entertaining tonight, so I’ll need you out of here by six.”
Heidi ripped through male partners like a chainsaw. I was her long standing fall-back position and sometime counselor when it came to the finer points of relationships, which was a frightening thought in itself.
“Anyone I know?”
“No.”
“Who is he?”
“I told you, none of your business,” she said strutting down her front walk and climbing into her car.
I stood at the door watching, she climbed back out of the car, yelled at me over the rooftop. “I’m not kidding, Dev, I need you out of here by six, no later.” She jumped in her car and raced off before I could give any sort of a wise guy answer.
The place was gleaming it was so clean. I checked her refrigerator, usually empty, but today it held a number of white carry-out food containers. The largest container held a heat and serve meal, some kind of chicken thing with sauce and peppers, another box was crammed with salad greens. There was a bake and serve loaf of french bread and some kind of fruit and chocolate desert deal. Four bottles of white wine were chilling on the bottom shelf. The dining room table was set for two, silver candle holders with red candles were placed on the table, fresh cut flowers on the cabinet. Whoever the lucky guy was, I hoped he had rested up.
Later in the afternoon I was actually ahead of schedule and about halfway through the second coat. I had the window open, airing out what little fumes there were. The phone rang, not my cell but the pay-as-you-go. I let it ring three times, then hit the accept key, I didn’t say anything, just listened. It was quiet on the other end, except for some faint breathing. It sounded feminine, which sounds kind of crazy and that made me think, Kiki.
I remained quiet for the better part of two minutes, straining my ears. All I heard was the breathing. I don’t think it was intentional, not heavy or rasping, not trying to intimidate me or anything, just breathing. Then from somewhere in the distant background, I heard a car honk, just a couple of beeps, whoever it was hung up. I put the phone down and thought for a few minutes.
It could have been the U of M. Or the police, if they’d found Doctor Death. Either one might be calling in response to the bogus Wells Fargo message I’d left on his line. It could have been Farrell, I doubted it. My money was on Kiki. Whoever it was, I did know one thing, I’d been stupid to hang onto the pay-as-you-go phone and I was going to get rid of it on my way home, tonight. I got back to the business at hand, hustled and finished painting in forty-five minutes. I was just wrestling Heidi’s gigantic antique wardrobe back against the wall when I heard the kitchen door open.
“Dev, you still here?” she called. I heard the rustle of shopping bags coming from the kitchen.
“In here, just putting things back together.”
She appeared at the doorway and I took it all in. Her hair looked gorgeous, her nails were done, she had a new pedicure and she was nicely tanned.
“You look great, were you out in the sun?”
“No dopey, spray on, you don’t have tan lines this way.”
“You get that done before or after your wax?”