Loyalty (31 page)

“So you have some info?”

“I finally have a name connected to Zyxco, Inc.” Hal struggled to free a phone from his pocket and tapped on a few buttons. “I can’t take complete credit for it. Emma narrowed down the list of names from the phone dump, so I was able to dig deeper into a focused group.”

“And? The suspense is killing me, Hal.”

“The owner of Zyxco, Inc. and hence, Mode Accessories, is . . . Chester Duprey.”

Fina paused with her soda can in midair. “What?”

“Chester Duprey.”

“Duprey?”

“Duprey.”

“How is that spelled?” Fina took a swig and placed the can on the coffee table.

“D
-
U
-
P
-
R
-
E
-
Y
.
”

Fina stood up and paced the floor in front of the windows overlooking the harbor.

“Is there a problem?” Hal asked, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah. I think my head’s going to explode.”

“Ahhh,” Hal murmured. “Not sure what to do about that.”

Fina came back to the couch and sat down on the end closest to Hal. “Give me all the details on this guy,” she said, and Hal took a deep breath. She held up her hand. “Wait. Not all the details. Give me a high-level, critical detail summary.” Fina had worked with Hal long enough to know that he was a closeted Chatty Cathy. Wind him up, and he would go on forever.

“Chester Duprey is seventy-six years old, originally from Biloxi, Mississippi. He’s owned a number of successful businesses, mostly in various parts of the South. Before coming to Boston, he was in Richmond, Virginia, for four years.”

“How long has he been in Boston?”

Hal consulted his phone. “About five years.”

“What else?”

“No trouble with the law, although he’s been audited a couple of times. Gives a decent amount of money to charity. Lives on Beacon Hill.”

“Family?”

“A wife and a son. Beverly and Connor.”

Fina reached into her cast and tried to scratch an itch with her fingernail, but she couldn’t reach it. She cast her eyes around the room for an implement. “I can’t focus with this fucking cast!” she exclaimed and went to the kitchen. She returned a minute later with a tiny two-pronged lobster fork in her hand, which she proceeded to slip into her cast.

Hal crinkled his brow in anxiety, with maybe a dash of disgust thrown in. “Don’t hurt yourself, Fina. Oh, I almost forgot. He’s very ill. Chester Duprey.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He had a massive stroke and didn’t regain much use of his body.”

“Is his mind intact?”

“I don’t know. It’s costing them a fortune, though, taking care of him.”

Fina altered her scratching pattern. “I cannot fucking believe this.”

“Which part?”

“That Chester Duprey owns Mode Accessories.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, but as of this morning, I know his wife.”

Hal’s face fell. “So this isn’t news?”

“Hal, this is more than news. You made a connection for me that I didn’t even know I was missing.”

Hal beamed. “That’s a relief.” He finished his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he stared off into space for a moment. “I still don’t know what Mode is a cover for, though.”

“That’s okay,” Fina said, and tossed the lobster fork onto the coffee table. “I think I do.”

“Why am I tagging along? Is she a big girl? Physically threatening?”

“No, but your presence does prompt people to be particularly candid. Mostly, I just need another set of ears.”

Milloy rolled his eyes.

“Ears I can trust,” Fina said. “Plus I just like having you around. You smell good.”

“Thanks.”

They pulled up to a four-story, white brick row house near Huntington. Unlike its richer counterparts on Beacon Street, the structure didn’t boast a yard or an elaborate staircase. The windows were flush to the building, and the roofline was utilitarian, minus any detailed molding or decoration.

Fina leaned on the bell next to Olivia’s name. “I don’t know if she’s holding back or if she just doesn’t know stuff. I liked her this morning.”

“But you’re a fickle woman, Ludlow.”

“Not fickle. Flexible. Open-minded. I’m willing to believe all kinds of shit if I can prove it.”

“Who is it?” A young woman’s voice carried through the speaker.

“It’s Fina Ludlow, Olivia. I hate to bother you, but something’s come up, and I really need to talk to you.”

“I was on my way out.”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

Fina and Milloy waited for a moment in silence.

“Okay. Come up.” The door buzzed, and Milloy pulled it open and followed Fina inside. They climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and knocked on the door of apartment 4C.

Olivia opened the door and spent an extra moment checking out Milloy.

“This is my friend Milloy,” Fina said. “Milloy, this is Olivia.”

They shook hands, and Olivia gestured toward a futon. The apartment was a studio with a small kitchen against one wall and a tiny bathroom off the main room. The table was covered with a white tablecloth, on which sat lots of shiny little pieces.

Fina walked over to take a closer look as Milloy sat down. “What’s all this?”

“I make jewelry. Just a hobby.”

Beads and charms and bits of silver cluttered the workspace along with pliers, wire cutters, and a small butane torch.

“Looks like a pretty serious hobby.”

Olivia shrugged. “Less messy than painting, but challenging and a little dangerous.”

“Oh God, don’t tell her that,” Milloy said, and rubbed his eyes. “Sounds right up her alley.”

“What’s up?” Olivia asked. “I really was on my way out.” She was wearing tight jeans and a tank top that showcased her cleavage.

“What do you know about Bev Duprey’s husband?” Fina asked.

“I know she has one, and he’s sick.”

“Was he ever involved in the business?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not when I was there. I think he might have stopped by once or twice before he got sick. Why?”

“What other businesses does Bev run?”

Milloy watched the exchange with his arms spread across the back of the couch. Fina sat down next to him, but Olivia remained standing.

“The only business I know for sure is the one I worked at,” she said, and glanced at Milloy.

“You can talk in front of him,” Fina said, indicating Milloy. “He’s cool.”

“I already told you. I worked at the escort service—as a booker,” she hastened to add while looking at Milloy. “That’s it.”

“But you just said it was the only business you knew for sure. What other businesses did you suspect Bev was running?”

Olivia walked over to the table and picked up a piece of silver. It was brushed, and tiny depressions had been hammered into its surface. She held it up. “I think it’s going to be an earring.”

“Olivia . . .” Fina said.

“Look, I hate that bitch, all right? But she’s a scary bitch. If she finds out I’ve been ratting her out, she’ll come after me.”

“How would she know
you
ratted her out? I bet she’s made her share of enemies over the years.”

“She’s powerful. She knows people.” Olivia put the metal back on the table and sat down in a faded upholstered chair next to the couch.

“I won’t let her hurt you,” Fina said. “We won’t.” Milloy raised his eyebrow at Fina, but she ignored him. “Tell me about the business in Framingham.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “You know about Gratify?”

“Yes,” Fina bluffed, “but I’d like to hear it from you.”

Olivia took a deep breath. “Okay, the escort service is her pet project, almost like her charity. She pretends she’s making men happy and empowering girls. Some ridiculous shit like that, but you can only grow it so big, right? You’ve got to keep it small to stay under the radar.”

“Right . . .” Fina prodded. She had an inkling where this was going. Milloy glanced at her.

“Bev likes making money.”

“So she’s in porn?” Fina ventured.

Olivia nodded.

“But porn isn’t illegal,” Fina said.

“No, but there are laws that govern it, and she doesn’t always obey them. And even if porn isn’t illegal, it’s low-class. She doesn’t want to be associated with that.”

“But why have the escort service if she can make more money with the porn?”

“I told you. She likes the escort service. If she had her way, she would only have Prestige, but times have changed. You have to keep up with technology to stay relevant.”

“So what happens in Framingham?”

“Websites. Live chats. You know, where you log on and ask the girl to do stuff, and she follows your orders.” She looked at Milloy.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not into that garbage,” he said.

“She’s got a bunch of studios set up to look like bedrooms. Sometimes there are half a dozen girls there, each in their own room. Doing shit so some chump in Kansas can jack off.”

“Gross,” Fina said, “but I still don’t get the need for secrecy.”

“It’s the girls. Some of them are underage. Some of them are illegal. And it’s not like the workplace is up to snuff. She doesn’t want a visit from OSHA.”

“So Bev uses her husband’s larger corporation as an umbrella for her various activities? What about Mode Accessories?”

“Like I said, I don’t know for sure, but I guess it’s a front for the porn business.”

“I don’t get why she’d risk using underage girls. There are plenty of pretty girls who’ll do the work.”

“But they look old,” Olivia said, and Fina looked mildly offended. “You know what I mean. They look like adults. They have to look young and perky. And a lot of the girls are runaways. Bev sucks them in and bleeds them dry.”

“Does she use any of the same girls for both businesses? For porn and escorts?”

“Hell, no. It’s like the difference between thoroughbreds and mutts. I’m not saying the porn girls aren’t pretty, but they’re not presentable in the way that the Prestige girls are. The Gratify girls are the feet paddling furiously beneath the surface, and the Prestige girls are the swans on top.”

“I get it.”

“And with the clients from the escort business? Bev would never risk using a girl who wasn’t carefully selected. Those men are powerful. Discretion is one of the biggest selling points.”

“What kind of men?” Milloy asked. He studied the stitching on the toss pillow next to him. Fina glanced at him.

“Powerful. Important. In the public eye.”

“Is there another agency those men might use?”

Olivia shook her head. “Prestige is the top. If you can’t get it there, you go to New York.”

“Are there any underage girls at Prestige?” Milloy asked.

“I don’t think so. Not because Bev has scruples, but she wouldn’t trust them. She’s got girls who look damn young, though.”

“Is there a girl named Molly?” he asked. Fina closed her eyes and rubbed her temple with her free hand.

“Young, blond? Yeah. How do you know Molly? I thought it wasn’t your thing?” Olivia asked with a smirk.

“I know her,” Fina said. “Does she work for anyone other than Bev?”

“Not if Bev has anything to say about it. No freelancing allowed.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“You good?” Milloy asked Fina.

She nodded. “I got what I need.” She stood up and moved to the door. “Thanks, Olivia. I really appreciate your help. I’ll keep you out of it. Did you call Matthew yet?”

“Left a message earlier today.”

“Let me know if he doesn’t call by tomorrow.”

The trip downstairs was a quiet one, both Fina and Milloy caught up in their own thoughts.

In the car, he turned up the air conditioner and drove past the Museum of Fine Arts. He wended his way through the Fens and found a place to pull over on Park Drive.

“So?” he asked once he’d put the car in park.

Fina took a deep breath. “So.”

Milloy waited a moment. “Talk to me.”

“So, the escort, Brianna, worked for the madam, Bev Duprey, who is also the madam for my brother’s escort, Molly. Bev also runs a porn business in the MetroWest area, and my sister-in-law had Bev’s number in her recipe box.” Fina turned to look at him. “Any other fucked-up detail I’m forgetting?”

Milloy shook his head. “I can see why you wanted an extra pair of ears. I’m surprised blood isn’t pouring out of yours.”

“Oh, just wait. The night is but a pup.”