Sammie waited until the door had closed behind her before asking, "Why didn't you just tell her we're cops?"
"Discretion, for both Liptak and us. It might make him chattier if he knows we didn't fly the flag in front of her highness, plus, I don't doubt she would've given us flak for having the wrong badges."
Sammie accepted that without judgment and made a small tour of the reception area instead. "What do you think they do here?"
"I think if you have to ask, they don't want you on the premises. That would be my guess."
The door behind the desk opened, and the regal young woman reappeared, accompanied by a man who looked downright plain by comparison, although with careful, watchful eyes.
He circled the desk and approached them with hand held out. "Hi. Mr. Gunther, Ms. Martens. I'm Andy Liptak. Why don't you come back to the conference room with me? Much more comfortable there."
Sammie smiled at the neutral phrasing of his greeting. Joe had read the character of the place correctly. As they fell into line behind their host, she also noted with satisfaction the pissed-off expression of the beauty queen.
Like most brownstones, this one was tall and narrow, so the conference room right off the lobby had a single window overlooking the street and ran long and thin toward the back of the building. There was just enough room in it for the table down its length and the thickly upholstered chairs lined up around it. Liptak took a seat just off the parental head of the table and motioned to his guests to make themselves comfortable. Gunther sat where he imagined Liptak normally did, with his back to the window and a full view down the middle. It made him think of what it might be like having a small family meal at the Rockefellers'.
Except that Andy Liptak didn't look like any blue blood. With his square, blunt body, stubby hands, and thick neck, he reminded Gunther more of a longshoreman than a man of means and leisure.
Liptak started things off. "I wanted to thank you for your under-the-radar approach," he said. "It's going to drive Casey nuts for the next week."
Casey, Sammie thought. Of course.
Gunther laughed pleasantly. "Actually, that was for us as much as for you. We thought she might accuse us of impersonating police officers otherwise."
"She might have at that. Very protective woman. I'm guessing you're here about Willy?"
"Not entirely. Our interest is more Mary Kunkle."
Liptak looked crestfallen. "Christ. I couldn't believe it when Willy told me. I mean, I knew she'd hit the skids. It's one of the reasons we broke up. But it's hard to imagine anyone you once loved could die that way. Really knocked the wind out of me. And, not to get personal, but Willy wasn't too subtle about breaking the news. I guess he told you I got a little pissed off at him."
Sammie waited for Gunther to take the lead, which he did by admitting blandly, "Well, it's an emotional issue for him, and we all know how lacking in subtlety he can be. That's actually one of the reasons we wanted to meet with you on our own. I want to make sure his report wasn't colored by his own view of things."
"His view of things?" Liptak echoed. "What's that mean? I thought she was an accidental overdose. He didn't tell me otherwise."
Gunther was purposefully vague, although curious about the other man's reaction. "Oh, that's a possibility, sure. We're also looking to rule out something a little more complicated."
Liptak's surprise seemed genuine. He sat forward in his chair, his eyes widening. "You're kidding. That's why Willy was being so cagey."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, he basically sandbagged me. We had dinner together and he spent the whole time letting me go on and on about the old days, milking me about how things had gone between Mary and me, and only at the end did he admit she was dead. I figured it was because he was still pissed off she'd moved in with me after dumping him, but now I guess he was fishing, seeing if I might've had something to do with killing her. That son-of-a-bitch. I accused him of being a cop even off duty-little did I know."
"Did he have any reason to think you wished her ill?" Gunther asked.
Liptak became agitated. "No. It was over between Mary and me. I didn't even know where she lived or what she was doing. To be honest, she could've died two years ago and I wouldn't have known it. It's not that I disliked her, but we'd broken up. It was over. I'd moved on."
"Why did you break up?" Sammie asked quietly.
Liptak looked both sad and angry. "I wasn't going to tell Willy this, but it wasn't just the drugs. She was screwing around, too. He might be pissed at me right now, but back then, I didn't think too highly of him, either. I thought he'd messed her up big time, and that I was the unintended victim."
He shook his head apologetically. "I know how that sounds. I also know it's dead wrong. We all bring a bit of ourselves to these messes, right? I can admit now that I was as much a part of her problem as Willy was, or her mom, or herself, for that matter." He rubbed his cheek with his open palm. "Christ, when he told me about her, it hit me like a ton of bricks. All the denial I'd piled up inside-the way I'd told myself she was just selfdestructive, and there was nothing anyone could do to save her. I mean, that might've been true, but when he broke the news, I couldn't stop feeling guilty."
Gunther was impressed by the big man's candor. How many times had he, too, been caught in a similar web of guilt and self-delusion, and had struggled later to save face?
"Mr. Liptak," he asked, "were you able to tell Willy anything at all about who Mary might have been entangled with after you two broke up? Her drug dealer or dealers, for example?"
He shook his head. "He asked me the same thing. Mary's and my parting was pretty friendly. I didn't know and didn't ask who she was seeing."
Gunther was beginning to run out of questions. The guy appeared so candid about his shortcomings that there weren't many obvious cracks to pry open.
Except for one point of interest. Looking around at the muted but expensive decor surrounding them, Gunther asked, "What exactly do you do, by the way? You seem pretty well off."
Liptak gave an embarrassed smile. "Yeah, well, there're a lot of smoke and mirrors here. I mean, I do okay-it's mostly real estate, to answer your question, and a few businesses-but appearances play a big role. It costs me a fortune to have this office and that debutante outside, but you know what they say about spending money to make money."
"Were you making this kind of income when you were living with Mary?"
Liptak burst out laughing. "No way. I was clueless then, trying to find my footing. Wasn't till after she left that I started to get serious." He paused and added, "Too bad, too. If I'd gotten my act together sooner, maybe I could've saved her."
Gunther pushed himself away from the table, encouraging Sammie to do the same. "Okay, Mr. Liptak. We'll get out of your hair. We might want to talk again at some point, if that's all right."
Liptak got up and ushered them back out into the lobby. "No problem. Call me anytime. If I'm not around, Casey'll know where to find me."
Casey didn't bother looking up from the document she appeared to be reading.
They shook hands on the stoop and Sammie and Gunther returned to the sidewalk.
"What d'you think?" Gunther asked his sidekick.
Sammie thought a moment before saying, "I think it was interesting he didn't ask about the investigation."
For some reason, they found a parking place barely half a block away from the Seventh Precinct house. Gunther got out and scrutinized every sign he could see along the street, looking for the one that would explain this anomaly and make moving the car a necessity. But while several signs were contradictory, none made it clear that he was in violation.