Death in Paradise (23 page)

The elevator opened and we got in. The door rolled silently shut. I pressed twelve. Jonetta stabbed seventeen. "Thing was, I thought we had that money. Martina had promised me. She had sources, she had grants, she was going to put something together. It was cool as long as she'd get the credit." Jonetta spread her arms, bracelets jangling. "What did I care who got the glory, if I could save some kids? Then she says no deal. I know that I was dumb to have trusted something that wasn't in writing, but we've been colleagues a long time now, and I let down my guard and relied on her word. Expanded the school on a little seed money and a promise of the rest, and then, just two weeks ago, she calls me up and says she's ever so sorry but she had to divert that money somewhere else, she knows I'll understand."

She banged her fist against the elevator wall. "I told her I damned well didn't understand. I told her that real girls who were in a life-or-death situation were counting on that money and that it was a damned sight more important than funding some study or other. She said I was out of control and she'd discuss it with me sometime when I was calm. Well, I told her that when the issue was throwing desperate black girls back in the street, kickin' 'em in the teeth and telling them we couldn't give 'em an education after all, when that was what we'd promised, I'd never be calm. She said there was nothing in writing, so how was I ever going to show that promise, when she was the one who said we didn't need to put it in writing, her word was as good as a promise."

The door opened on twelve and we got out. "Of course, I did calm down. I knew it was my mistake, not getting it in writing, so I let it go."

She paused while I got out my key, let myself in, and dropped my laptop on the desk. On our way back to the elevator, she said, "Well, I let the money issue go. Didn't seem like there was anything else I could do. But I came here determined not to leave until Martina had been replaced, whatever that took."

We rode in silence up to seventeen. Got off and walked to Rory's door. Jonetta raised a big hand and knocked sharply.

I didn't want to have heard what I'd just heard. We all should have sat down and talked long ago. I wondered what Rob's story was, and Zannah's. The wrongs that Martina had been committing were piling up like snowdrifts, covering all the good she'd done. So many irresponsible, hateful, selfish acts. I didn't think any of us realized how much harm been done in the name of the organization. "Does everyone have a story like this?" I asked.

"I think so," she said. "There have been some dark hints, but no one is saying much. Especially now." She knocked again. "Damn that girl!" she muttered. I felt a black sense of foreboding steal over me. A powerful sense of deja vu. I wanted to run away and leave Jonetta to deal with it this time. But even as the urge to flee was rushing through my mind, I saw a maid come out of a room two doors down. I hurried to her.

"Please," I said, "could you open this door? Our friend was ill last night and now she doesn't answer. I'm afraid she may need a doctor."

She didn't ask any questions or suggest we call security. She simply put her key in the lock and opened it. None of the security locks were on. The door opened into a deadly quiet darkness. The curtains were drawn. The air-conditioning had dropped the temperature so that a blast of icy air came rushing at us as the door opened.

Jonetta marched in, calling Rory's name. No one answered. The maid turned on the light. There was no one in the bed, although it appeared to have been slept in.

"We have to check the bathroom," I said. I didn't move. I couldn't move. "No. Let's get out of here. Let's call security and have them check."

"What's the matter with you, girl?" Jonetta said. "Suddenly you lost your nerve?"

"Yes."

"Well, get a grip." Jonetta crossed to the bathroom and yanked open the door. Rory lay on the floor between the toilet and tub, surrounded by towels. With the white towels and her white dress and her white skin all splashed with blood, she looked like a pile of bloody laundry waiting to be collected. "Sweet Jesus!" Jonetta said.

I pushed past her and reached down, feeling Rory's neck for a pulse. "She's alive," I said. I ran for the phone. Behind me, I could hear Jonetta murmuring as she bent to see what she could do for Rory. It probably wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with a girl who'd slashed her wrists. The maid was screaming, a peculiar rising and falling wail like a distant fire engine. I picked up the phone and asked for the manager. The operator tried to shunt me aside.

"Mr. Inashima," I insisted. "Please tell him that he has an attempted suicide in Room Seventeen-eleven, the young woman who was assistant to the woman who was murdered, and we need a doctor and an ambulance. He might also want to contact the police."

"I'll take care of it," she said, "and I will have him call you back."

I put down the phone and waited, my own wrists aching. I closed my eyes but all I could see was myself, crumpled in the driver's seat of my car, feeling the hot rush of blood from my own wrists, feeling my own life ebbing away, helpless to do anything about it. I wrapped my arms around my body and rocked, shaking with the cold, and with the ugly memories that clung like tin cans to my ankle.

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Like a contestant on the $64,000 question, I was in an isolation booth. I couldn't hear anything that was going on around me. I kept my arms wrapped tightly around my body and I rocked. I rocked and I shook and I rocked and the pain in my wrists was so great I felt like screaming. Someone had tried to kill me once by slashing my wrists to make it look like suicide. Seeing Rory brought it all rushing back. I was as mired in those awful memories as a tiger in a tar pit. I felt like joining that damned hysterical maid who was imitating a fire engine. I left all the hard work to Jonetta and I didn't do a thing except sit there. Jonetta had to call me three times before she penetrated the fog.

"Thea. Thea. Thea!" The third time shook the rafters. Having a powerful voice has its advantages. I shook off the cloak of shock that trapped me and went to the bathroom door. She looked up at me. "Help me get her to the bed," she said. "I want to wrap her up. We don't know how long it will be until help arrives."

"I'll take her feet." It meant stepping over her body and the blood, but at least it kept me away from those wounded hands.

Together we carried Rory's limp form to the bed, propped her head and feet up on pillows, her arms folded on her chest, and covered her with blankets. Jonetta had wrapped her wrists in towels. Arranged like that, she looked like some warrior princess, killed in battle, laid out for her funeral pyre, her skin waxen and pale, her dark hair pooled on the pillow. I turned off the air conditioner and opened the balcony door to let some warm air in.

Jonetta finished, planted her hands on her hips, and stepped back. "Good thing we're forceful women. If we hadn't come up here, if we'd waited for her to come to us, who knows what harm a few more hours might have done? I knew she was upset. I never thought she'd do something like this." She shook her head. "I wonder why?"

"Yesterday she was sure that they'd blame her. Maybe she still thought that. People can be pretty crazy."

"Unless she did it. Someone did it." Jonetta shifted her attention to me. "Girl, you look like you've just seen a ghost. What's wrong?"

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to think about it. The inside of my head was becoming my own personal Madame Tussaud's of violence and crime. I shook my head. "Nothing. All that blood. Finding the two of them... like this... I..." Maybe I was becoming the world's biggest wimp, but I had to get away from the smell of blood, the bloody bathroom, the trail of scarlet drops across the carpet. "Would you mind if I left... can you...? There isn't anything more I can do."

I hated to run out on her. It didn't seem fair to leave her to deal with such a mess on her own.

"Honey, this isn't the first time I've picked some poor girl up off the bathroom floor. I don't mean to sound like a hard-ass, but you might say I'm kind of used to it. You go along. You've got a seminar in a few minutes anyway." Obediently, gratefully, I headed for the door. "Wait!" she said. "Take her laptop. We're sure gonna need it, all the stuff that's on it, and if the cops come, you can bet it'll go right downtown and we'll be up the proverbial creek."

Mechanically I crossed to the desk and packed the laptop into its case.

"Wait," she said, "better take the printer, too, or they'll wonder why in heck she had a printer with nothing to print from."

And so I left, lugging the laptop and portable printer before anyone could arrive and say nay. I carried it down to my room, put it on my desk, plugged it in, and took a quick break to throw up. I've learned to work a lot of stuff into my routine. I could walk and chew gum. I could talk on the phone and type. I could work on two major reports at once and not mix up the data. I could skate and kiss Andre without falling down. And now I was learning to download data and throw up without missing a beat. Still, when I got home, it was time to see the doctor. Whether it was mono, hepatitis, a parasite, food poisoning, or an ulcer, I was losing meals at about the same rate that I was eating them. Eventually, like the all-celery diet, this could lead to starvation.

Only a few minutes left before I had to go downstairs and introduce Rob and his panel of speakers. Just time to get the banquet stuff, except that Rory's computer wouldn't let me in without a password. All I could tell from the row of asterisks was that it was a five-letter word. It could take the rest of my life to crack the code. I closed my eyes, cursed the poor girl roundly, and tried to put myself in her shoes. I tried Martina, even though it had six letters, and NAGS though it only had four. I tried Aurora, which was Rory's real name. And then, as I sat there with hands poised over the keys, it came to me. I typed "bitch" and the computer let me in.

Quick as a wink, or as quickly as the poky little printer would let me, I made a copy of the stuff in her banquet file. Two minutes. I had figures for the dais and for the number of attendees. I picked up the phone and tried to reach Mrs. Sato. The helpful person I reached at the number we had been given announced that it was Mrs. Sato's day off. I could feel the ire rising. Someday I'm going to be sitting on the phone, one too many stupid messages is going to pour into my ear, and I'm going to die instantaneously from steamed brain.

"Where are you located?" I demanded. I did not use my polite voice. She told me. "Good. I'll be there in five minutes. This morning Denby Inashima told me that Mrs. Sato would be attending to all of our conference problems today. If, when I get there, she isn't available, I will go directly to Mr. Inashima."

I slammed down the phone and headed for the door. Oops. A last-minute glance in the mirror showed blood down the skirt of my nice new jumper. Not the best way to appear before a group already made skittish by violent death. A quick change was required. Off went green. Off went my top. As I slipped it off, I inhaled traces of men's cologne on the sleeve that had been around Billy. The same as the scent in Rory's room. When Billy supposedly hadn't even been here.

Stop dawdling, Kozak, and don't even think about playing detective. No time. No interest. No inclination. Let George do it. Or Nihilani and Bernstein.
On went fresh blouse. On went black jumper. And out I went. Loaded for bear. Actually, it was a good thing I didn't carry weapons. In my present state of mind, people were at risk.

I ducked into the seminar room, whispered my predicament to Rob Greene, and said I'd introduce him but then I had to leave for a few minutes, so please not to have any crises until I could get back. He promised that he would do his best. The appointed hour arrived, I marched to the mike, gave everyone a warm welcome, said I hoped they were all enjoying themselves so far, and asked who had attended the luau. Most of the hands went up. "Well," I said, "I'm the one who didn't sing last night. But at least they let me talk." Then I introduced Rob and his panel and left them to talk about introducing girls to technology. Little did the crowd know that in about fifteen minutes, Rob and his co-panelists were going to be passing out kits and everyone in the room was going to be assigned to a team, the teams were going to assemble little motorized cars, and then there would be a race. This was hands-on learning.

I wanted to be back in time to build my car, so I was hurrying. I rarely get to play anymore. Following the directions I'd been given, I went to something called the conference offices. Mrs. Sato was waiting for me. She looked pointedly at her watch. "You said five minutes."

I thought the customer was always right. I looked at my own watch. "How nice to find you in," I said. "Your office said this was your day off. Look, I've just come from dealing with an attempted suicide. We had to wrap her up, call for EMTs and an ambulance, and then I had to find the files she couldn't help me with because she was unconscious. That involved figuring out the password to her computer, printing the files, changing out of my bloody clothes, and introducing a panel of speakers. All in the past fifteen minutes. And I threw up my breakfast. The sight of blood can do that to you. I am not in the best of moods, so let's just skip the pissing contest about who has kept whom waiting and discuss the banquet details."