But then she fell silent and cocked her head. “Wait, wait...” She plowed once more through the documents spread out before them.
“What? You look like a wolf going after a sheep.”
Her dark fingernail underlined some entries on a business form. “These are accounts of non-deductible expenses that Charles had. Personal accounts. I never paid any attention to them before because they didn’t have anything to do with the business.” Reading through the documents again, Gabriela pointed to some entries. “He spent close to a hundred thousand at jewelry and department stores last year. Some of the items he had delivered to an address on Madison Avenue, a woman named Sonia Dietrich.”
“Who is she?”
“I never heard of her. I know Charles dated some but he never mentioned who he was seeing. No woman ever came by the office.” Perusing the balance sheets and ledgers again. “Hell, he did more than buy her presents. He wrote dozens of checks to her too. A hundred thousand, a little more.”
“And maybe gave her some cash.”
“It could be,” she said excitedly. “She might have the missing million.”
Daniel asked, “Would she have left the country with him?”
Gabriela said, “Considering he’s a wanted man, Charles’s probably the last person she’d want to be seen with. Women like her have a sixth sense. Survival, you know.”
He’d noted a certain tenor. “Like her? I thought you didn’t know her.”
“Intuition,” she said drily.
“How should we handle it?” he asked.
“I could call and tell her...” She debated. “No, how’s this? I could tell her the police are looking for people connected with Charles. He wanted me to pick up anything he left with her, to keep her in the clear.”
“Including a large satchel of hundred-dollar bills? I don’t think that’ll work.”
“No, I suppose not. Well, how about this? I’ll tell her if I don’t get the money I’m going to the police and reporting that she’s been hiding stolen money for him. What do they call that?”
“Bagman.”
“I’ll tell those detectives she’s a bagman. Well, bagwoman. I get the five hundred thousand and she doesn’t go to jail.”
“I like that a lot better.”
Stuffing a crumpled napkin into his cup, Daniel asked, “But what if she’s not home?”
Gabriela thought for a moment. “Then it’s Plan B.”
“Which is?”
“I’ll break into her fucking apartment and turn it inside out.”
They stood on the corner of 88th and Madison, two buildings away from the one Gabriela pointed at. “That’s it. That’s where she lives, his girlfriend, or mistress, or accomplice. Whatever Ms. Dietrich is.”
“ ‘Slut’ was the most recent job description, I thought,” Daniel reminded in a whisper.
Gabriela dug through the documents in her purse. She then placed a call and held the phone to her ear. After a few seconds she put the unit away. She said, “Voice mail. I guess we assume she’s not there.”
“As opposed to assuming she’s not answering because she’s busy cleaning her shotgun?” He looked boyish, he looked charming... and he seemed a bit charmed himself as he scanned her face.
“Okay. We go with the alternative.”
Plan B...
“Wait here a minute,” she told him and walked into the lobby of the elegant brownstone, looking over the mailboxes. She returned to Daniel. “Brother, she’s got the whole second floor.” They gazed at those windows, which were dark. The rooms seemed to be unoccupied.
“Come on,” she said.
They walked into the alleyway beside the building. All the windows on the ground floor were barred with elaborate, scrolly grates. The second-floor windows, however, were not protected, and one was partly open.
“Help me.”
They wheeled a Dumpster below it.
Gabriela then turned and walked back to the street, with Daniel following. She surveyed the scene. The sidewalk wasn’t crowded. “The alley’s narrow,” she pointed out. “There’s no reason for anybody to look into it and see me.”
“You’re really going to break in?”
“Yep. I sure as hell am.”
She noted a closed antiques store on the corner. In front were two massive Chinese lions, secured to the sidewalk with massive chains. Who on earth would steal them? she thought. How could you fence eight hundred pounds of ugly sculpture?
“You wait there and, I don’t know — pretend to make a call. If you see anybody walk up to the building, call me.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “Good luck.” He retreated ten feet and took out his mobile.
Gabriela started back to the alley. She had just reached the mouth when, with a staccato flutter of urgent, official lights, an unmarked police car, followed by a blue-and-white NYPD cruiser, skidded to a stop in front of the building.
Daniel started forward but Gabriela subtly gestured for him to stay where he was.
The two detectives who’d stopped the pair yesterday, Kepler and Surani, climbed out of the unmarked police car. A uniformed officer, blond and young, exited the cruiser.
None of them looked Daniel’s way.
Kepler gestured toward where they stood on the sidewalk. “Come on over here, Ms. McKenzie.”
She didn’t move.
“Please. Now.”
She hesitated then joined them.
“Tell us what’re you doing,” Surani insisted, though politely.
“That’s my business.”
“Well, explain what that business is and why it involves an alleyway?”
“I wasn’t breaking any laws,” she shot back.
“No? Were you — just speculating here — thinking of maybe... breaking into somebody’s apartment?” From Kepler, of course, and delivered frosted with sarcasm.
“That’s ridiculous. A friend of my boss lives here.”
“ ‘Friend’?” Kepler asked sarcastically.
“We know about Ms. Dietrich,” Surani said.
Gabriela snapped, “I have every right to talk to her.”
Kepler asked, “About what?”
“And I have every right not to tell you that.”
Her eyes swiveled toward the antiques store, the massive lions. Daniel was standing behind some spectators, twenty feet away. He was close — he could hear the exchange, she could tell — but not so near that the cops noticed him. Her frown told him to stay there.
“What exactly were you going to do, whisper to Ms. Dietrich from below the window?” Kepler looked at the Dumpster. “Very Romeo and Juliet.”
“And what are you doing here?” she demanded.
Kepler laughed. “You got quite the attitude — for a burglar. In answer to your question, since you haven’t cooperated and since Charles Prescott is still wanted on suspicion of two dozen felonies, we’re pursuing other leads in the case. One of ’em sent us here. Tell us what you know about Ms. Dietrich.”
“Nothing. I was worried about Charles. I just wanted to ask her if she’d heard from him, how he’s doing.”
“Again, I ask: through the window?” Kepler offered and ignored her bitter glare. He added, “They make these things called telephones, you know. But we’ll have time to talk about it in detention.”
“What?”
“We searched your boss’s office again. We checked the inventory and found some things missing. Gabriela McKenzie, you’re under arrest for obstruction of justice.” He sounded as if he’d been looking forward to saying those words for some time.