"Hey, second-story man," Earl Luke said. "You're blocking my view. It ain't like I got a goddamn big screen TV to look at."
"Sorry," Mason told him, backing up. Earl Luke crawled under his tarp as Mickey pulled in behind Mason.
"Nice night if it don't rain," Mickey said as he and Mason crossed the street, caps low on their brows, collars up.
"Give me the key," Mason told him, Mickey handing it off, Mason jiggling it in the lock, first gently, then hard, the lock not giving. Mason removed the key, tried it again, repeating the process, banging on the glass door when the third time wasn't the charm.
"What's up with that?" Mickey asked. "The key worked last night."
"Hackett changed the locks," Mason said. "Why would he do that?"
"To keep us out, Boss," Mickey said.
"It would be easier to ask me to give the key back, assuming he even knows that I still have it. He wants to keep someone else out. Who else has a passkey?"
"Wait a minute," Mickey answered. "Last night, I'm going through the stuff in Trent's desk. There's a copy of a bill he sent to David Evans for a new lock when Evans moved into his office. Maybe Trent loaned him a passkey until the new lock was installed."
"And maybe Evans didn't return the passkey," Mason said.
"Been known to happen," Mickey said.
Mason said, "Which means that Evans had access to the elevator control room for Gina's private elevator."
"Which also means he could have sent you for your thrill ride. Holy shit," Mickey said.
Mason looked at him. "You converting?"
"Nah," Mickey answered. "It's tough to whistle in the rain. What now?"
"Let's talk to the doorman," Mason said, motioning to Earl Luke.
Chapter 38
Mason peeled back Earl Luke's tarp, swinging Earl Luke's feet off the bench, forcing him upright, Mason and Mickey sitting down on either side of him, each supporting one end of the tarp in a rough lean-to, breathing through their mouths.
"Can't break into the Depot, you gotta break into my house, is that the way it is, second-story man?" Earl Luke said.
"Something like that, Earl Luke. Nice place you got here," Mason said. "When were the locks changed?"
"This morning, early. Woke me up, in fact. People are damn inconsiderate, you ask me, course nobody does. I'm just a goddamn street bum, piece of trash, people can ignore, move in on in the rain like they goddamn please!"
"Don't worry. We aren't spending the night," Mason said. "You remember Labor Day, the night Gina Davenport was killed?"
"Course I do. I was on TV with that good-looking reporter and that shrink come flying out the window like a bird with no wings. Scared the piss out of me, I'll tell you what, and I seen lots of dead people, believe you me, I have."
"Earlier that night, were you here, on the bench, watching the building?" Mason asked him.
"You know I was, so why you ask me?"
"I imagine you know all the tenants in the Cable Depot," Mason said.
"Listen, second-story man," Earl Luke said. "I been all over this with the cops. Just 'cause I'm a bum don't mean I'm stupid. You wantta ask me somethin', ask it and get outa my house. Leave me be!"
Mason shook the tarp, bouncing a pocket of water off the back. "Who'd you see that night coming and going from the building?"
"I done told the cops all that. Give 'em all the names. Saw that big ox what they call Mad Max. Saw that skinny gal what does the morning show. Saw that girl what kilt the shrink, your client, what's her name?"
"Jordan Hackett," Mason said.
"That's her," Earl Luke said.
"What about her parents? Did you see Arthur or Carol Hackett?"
"Never see them. They always park in the garage under the building. Garage door is on the east side. I watch the front door."
"How about David Evans? Did he use the front door that night?"
Earl Luke flashed his yellow, gap-toothed grin at Mason. "Now there's a right interesting question. No, sir, Mr. Evans did not use the front door that night."
Mason looked at Earl Luke, whose washed-out eyes were lively, flickering with a mischief Mason hadn't previously noticed. Earl Luke was right. Just because he was a street bum didn't mean he was stupid. No doubt he'd been questioned, rousted, and harassed by cops enough times to learn the toughest lesson for any witness. Only answer the question he was asked. Earl Luke was waiting to be asked the right question.
"Did you see David Evans that night?"
"That I did."
"When?" Mason asked.
"A little while before that TV lady showed up."
"Was that before or after you saw Jordan go in the front door of the Cable Depot?"
Earl Luke nodded, holding his grin. "Before."
"Where were you when you saw Evans?" Mason asked.
"Comin' up the bluff behind the Depot."
Mickey interrupted. "That bluff leads down to the interstate highway. What were you doing there?"
Earl Luke cast a closed-mouth glance at Mickey, resenting the intrusion. "It's okay," Mason said. "He's young and doesn't know any better, but it's a good question. Why were you on the slope?"
"People dump stuff there, cans, bottles, sometimes more valuable stuff they don't know they throw'd away. I was lookin'."
Mason said, "I don't imagine Evans was on the bluff too. Where was he?"
Earl Luke laughed, a quick burst of bum breath that stiffened Mason's spine. "You lawyers are all alike," Earl Luke said. "Every one of you a second-story man. Mr. Evans, he was opening that old cable works door you was fancyin' the other night."
"Holy shit," Mason said as Mickey whistled.
"Did you tell the cops about Evans?" Mason asked.
"They didn't ask. All they was interested in was who went in and out the front door and that's all by God I tole 'em."
Mason patted Earl Luke on the back. "Thanks, Earl. Appreciate you inviting us in," he said, surrendering the cover of the tarp, glad to be back in the rain, Mickey joining him.
"You know, for such a smart fella, you ain't too bright," Earl Luke said, gathering the tarp around him like a gown, the rain beating against his face.
"That so?" Mason asked. "I make the same mistake as the cops and not ask you the right question?"
Earl Luke answered with a silent, smug smile, pulling his head inside the tarp like a turtle. Mason and Mickey looked at one another, debating whether to climb back under the tarp.
"I've got it!" Mickey said. "The lock on the cable works door. I'll bet Hackett forgot to have it changed."
Earl Luke stretched out on the bench, wrapped in the tarp, and rolled onto his side, his back to them, a disgusted snort his only response. "I don't think so, Mickey," Mason said. "I mean, you could be right about the lock. Earl Luke probably figures we're smart enough to check it out, but I don't think that's the question he wants us to ask."
"What is it, then?" Mickey asked.
Mason shoved Earl Luke in the butt with the toe of his shoe. "Earl! Wake up! Something I want to ask you."
Earl Luke rose slowly, still covered in the tarp, a poor man's mummy come to life, parting the folds of the tarp enough to peek at them. "What's your question, second-story man?"
"Hackett may not have had the lock on the cable works door changed. But if he did, we'll need to find another way inside the Depot. Care to lend a hand?"
Earl Luke licked his lips, rinsing his gums with rainwater, spitting onto the sidewalk. "Expect you might could use some help," he said, stuffing the tarp onto the bottom rack of the grocery cart, tightening the rope belt around his worn pants, zipping his Army fatigue jacket, all but snapping a salute. "Nice to be asked," he added.
"You ever been inside?" Mason asked him. "In the basement or wherever the cable works used to be."