“So Nikki Mathias, how long have you known her?”
“Maybe a year and a half. I haven’t seen her in probably three or four months. I really don’t actually know her that well, except on a, sort of business level.”
“See her often?”
“I suppose a few times.”
I gave him a look and was about to ask him to define “a few.”
“Okay, about every three or four weeks,” he quickly added in response to my look.
“This isn’t going to get out, is it? Should I have a lawyer present?” he asked, looking more than a little worried.
“No, you don’t need a lawyer, Wayne, honest. You’re not under investigation here, nor will you be. I’m not going to pass your name on to anyone else investigating this.” I didn’t add because there is no one else. I don’t think any of what I said offered much in the way of relief. I noticed beads of perspiration dotting his pink forehead.
“Look, I know this was, a business arrangement, but she was really nice to me. Tell you the truth I would have seen her more often, it’s just that on an assistant librarian’s salary it’s pretty tough. Well, and of course my wife.”
“I guess I can understand that. How did you first meet her, Nikki?”
“I answered one of her ads, on-line. She emailed back, then sent a picture for my picture, that sort of thing. Then sent her phone number and I called her.”
“This was about a year and a half back, you said?”
“Yeah.”
“So then what? You got together for a night?”
“No not really. Tell you the truth that’s what impressed me. She met me in a public place, a bar out at the Mall of America. We had a couple glasses of wine, chatted, then she said she figured I was okay and I could call her and we’d set something up.”
“Did you ever have a sense there was anyone else around, watching you or anything?”
“No. Well in fact she left and I paid the tab. Then I followed her out, from a distance you know, so she wouldn’t see me.”
“And?”
“And she did just what she said she would do. She got on the light rail and left. Took her time in a couple of stores along the way, not in a hurry. Never met up with anyone else or anything. You always hear about guys getting together with some woman only to get set up. She arrives with three or four friends who empty the guy’s bank accounts or something. I didn’t need that.”
“So you eventually got together with her?”
“Yeah, she met me in the lobby of a hotel, over in Minneapolis actually. I gave her a lift to a high-rise downtown afterwards. She said she lived there. I always picked her up and dropped her off there but I never actually went inside. I never saw her apartment or anything.”
“She ever go to your place?”
“No, you kidding? She was never even curious about where I lived, beyond making casual conversation.”
“She have an accent?”
“Yeah, that was kind of funny. It was Russian, possibly from the Baltic region, you know Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania. Up there.”
I nodded like I was following where this was going.
“Funny thing, she told me she was German. I happen to speak German, fluently. I asked her something in German a couple of times that first night, she answered but she had an accent.”
“You mean her German?”
“Yeah, right. And her grammar was okay, but not always correct. See, I also speak Russian. I’m not fluent, but I can get around okay.”
“She know this?”
“No, I never mentioned it. I spoke German to her a few more times and always the same result, but to tell you the truth, I wasn’t seeing her to practice German, you know. Then a few times, in what you might call the throws of passion, she would blurt something out in Russian, nothing specific like ‘I’m from St. Petersburg’ or ‘I like Vladimir Putin,’ but, well, you get the idea, right?”
I nodded.
“We didn’t stray into each other’s personal life, kept things strictly business. Anyway, the last couple of times I tried to phone her there was no answer. Then, like I said earlier, three or four months ago I phoned and the line had been disconnected. End of story.”
“When you phoned her, did you ever go through an answering service?”
“Answering service? No, never. I’d always leave a message, but it was her voice, on the recording. I still remember it, ‘Hi this is Nikki, leave your message, thanks.’ Doesn’t sound as good when I say it but it was cute, sexy. Then she’d phone back, sometimes in a few minutes, sometime in a few days.”
“You ever pick up on anything with her? You know like something was wrong or she might be frightened? Anything?”
“You know I’ve been thinking about that as we’re talking. Maybe the last two times we were together, she was almost clingy, wanted to be held, cuddled. Not a complaint from me, at the time I was thinking, man, this hot chick is falling for me big time.”
“And she wasn’t?”
“Let’s just say when some gorgeous women is lying next to you, naked, and she can’t seem to get enough of you, wants to stay with you awhile longer, who cares why? It’s not that far a leap to delusional.”
“You recognize anyone in this besides Nikki?” I asked taking out my printed copy of the photo, Nikki on the beach with Mai and the Lee-Dee boys.
“Yeah, that’s her all right. Damn, I miss her. Don’t know any of the others,” Wayne shook his head and sounded wistful.
“You know, the last time I dropped her off…”
“Downtown?”
“Yeah, she always wanted to be let off near a side door of the building. I figured she wanted to avoid the lobby, maybe prying eyes or something. Anyway, that time she wanted me to drop her off in front of the building. She made a point of saying she wanted to get out of the car where it wasn’t dark, somewhere there were a lot of lights. Then said there had been some purse snatching in the area or something. Think maybe it might have been something else besides purse snatchings?”
“Could be, I just don’t know,” I said shaking my head.
We chatted a few minutes longer. I was reasonably sure Wayne wasn’t going to add anything and I didn’t need to know specifics of their sexual preferences. He gave me the name of the building where he’d dropped her off, the Baltimore. I handed him my card.
“Wayne, will you call me if you think of anything else?”
“Haskell Investigations?” he said looking up at me, back at the card then back up at me, blinking wide blue eyes.
“That’s me.”
“I thought you said you were with the police?”
“No, I think that may have been an assumption on your part, Wayne. But I am investigating the disappearance of Nikki Mathias. What you’ve told me will remain in strictest confidence. And I’m sure it will help,” although in truth I really couldn’t see how.
Chapter 34
I went back to working the phone numbers from Da’nita’s computer. Actually talked to four different guys, none of whom were of any real help, other than they more or less corroborated what I already knew. Nikki Mathias was an escort. Her contacts either originated on-line or from when she was entertaining at a party. She had an accent, was a gorgeous redhead, hadn’t been heard from for a couple of months, and apparently was rather memorable since two of the guys asked me to pass their names and numbers along if and when I did find her. The name Lee-Dee meant nothing to the gentlemen I spoke with. I saw no point in meeting with any of them personally.
Chapter 35
I could say all roads led back to Kerri, but I had no idea where she was, so I guess they led back to the Moscow Deli and my friend Tibor. Except that it wasn’t really a road, more like a footpath, and not well traveled at that.
After creeping past and spotting my Neanderthal pal Tibor, I parked at the far end of the desolate parking lot outside the Moscow Deli a good hour before it closed. Not that there was anything in the way of last-minute customers. I thought it might be best not to confront Tibor in his place of business, knives and cutting blades being a staple of his skilled trade.