White Ginger (25 page)

She put up a hand to quell the bickering. “Just humor me for a minute, gentlemen.” Her sharp tone demanded attention. “What I was trying to ask was, why the one dollar?”

The dollar bothered her. If someone intended to steal five million dollars, why bother with a lousy buck?

Race finally offered up an offhand remark with a shy smile. “eBay.”

She stared at him, befuddled by the answer.

He explained. “It's what I do when I want to hedge my bet on an auction. If I think the competition will bid fifty dollars, I'll offer fifty-one. It could make the difference between winning the item and losing it.”

Lee looked skeptical but kept his thoughts to himself. Robert appeared thoughtful.

She asked, “How did he move the money, Robert?”

How the money had been transferred from the account might shed some light on his intentions. If the money had been wired out of the country, for instance, there was a good chance both Benny and the money were gone. If he'd taken five million in cash he couldn't have gone far. Five million dollars in thousands would still add up to five thousand bills, a hefty load to carry.

Robert shook his head in frustration. “He took the money out in a cashier's check. That's what worries me. I don't want to admit to myself he stole the money, but I don't know what else to think.”

Bai offered a different scenario. “See if this makes sense,” she said, easing back into her chair. “Suppose he went to a sealed-bid auction. They require cash at most of the bank-sponsored sales, so he would have to take a cashier's check, which is the same as cash. But if that were the case, what was he trying to buy?”

Robert jumped on the answer. “Real estate! Benny's crazy about real estate. He's always looking for the big score. And if he succeeded in winning the auction, he'd have immediately recorded the deed.”

She thought about Robert's assumption. “It might be worth a trip downtown to the recorder's office to see if he's filed any paperwork. But before we leave, there's another matter to discuss. It's been brought to my attention that you handled a contract through this office for a Mr. Sammy Tu. What can you tell me about the agreement?”

He looked at her, a blank expression on his face. “I don't know what you're talking about. I've never heard of Sammy Tu. To the best of my knowledge, our offices have never handled any business transactions associated with that name.”

Her eyes bored into his, looking for any indication he was lying. “Is there any chance someone else might have handled it? Think carefully, Robert. This is very important.”

He pressed his fingers against closed eyes to ponder her question. When he pulled his hands away, he asked, “When was this contract initiated?”

“I'm assuming it was in the last couple of days.”

“The only people here were me and Park.”

“Where is she?” Lee asked.

Park was the receptionist and secretary. She'd been a fixture in the office for several years. Bai knew little about the woman other than her first name. Park appeared to be middle-aged and of average appearance. Bai considered her nondescript but likeable.

Robert turned to answer him. “She didn't come in today, and I haven't been able to reach her. She's not answering her cell or her home phone.”

“Is that unusual?” he asked.

“Somewhat,” he replied, looking a little abashed. “There've been times in the past when she would drop out of sight for a day or two. She's a member of Alcoholics Anonymous.” He paused before adding in a confidential manner, “She's had a few lapses. I'm afraid Benny's disappearance may have tipped her over the edge.”

“Do you know where she lives?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied.

Bai stood. “Then I suggest we take a little trip to make sure she's all right. If we've time, we'll swing by the County Recorder's Office to see if Benny registered any property.”

She was anxious to find out what Park knew, if anything, about the contract placed on her. The missing money was important, but at the moment not nearly as important as her life. She reasoned that she could always make more money.

Lee and Robert got up from the table and walked out of the conference room while Race waited for her at the door. “Even if your attorney purchased property with the money, it doesn't explain his disappearance.”

She nodded in agreement. The fact Benny hadn't surfaced in almost three days was worrisome. He was impulsive and often clueless. She hoped he hadn't gotten himself into trouble.

While ushering her out the door, Race talked at her back. “It could be he's out celebrating the good news he mentioned on the phone. He could be holed up somewhere with a girl and a bottle.”

“You don't understand,” she remarked over her shoulder. “His idea of a good time is a quart of Ben & Jerry's ice cream and a
Star Wars
video. He lives with his mother and would never leave her alone without making arrangements.”

Race looked somewhat sobered by her comments.

Bai turned to face him. “There isn't any need for you to accompany me to see Park. Why don't I call you tonight, and we can sort out the details of your employment. That will give me time to think about schedules and so forth.”

“That's fine with me,” Race replied. “I have a few loose ends to tie up as well. And thanks again for lunch. Next time it's my treat.”

He turned to precede her out of the office. Bai watched as he walked away. He looked as good from the back as he did from the front. She still wasn't sure hiring him was the smart thing to do. But then, she had to admit, she'd never been smart when it came to men.

Bai found a parking space on the street in front of Park's building. The receptionist lived in a run-down, three-story tenement next to an alley. Beige paint peeled away from clapboard siding like sunburned skin. A Laundromat on the ground floor vented damp air redolent with the scent of fabric softener onto the sidewalk.

She got out of the car and was met by the sound of tumbling dryers. The churning hum reverberated through the plate-glass window of the coin-operated laundry. At the corner of the building, Robert pulled open a rickety wooden door and waited.

Park lived on the third floor, two flights up. Wood runners sagged and squeaked in protest as they ascended. The stink of mold, rotted wood, and cooking oil permeated the narrow stairwell.

“Sounds like we're kicking rats,” Lee quipped as worn treads squealed underfoot.

“It's cheaper than a burglar alarm,” Bai noted. “There's no way anyone's going to sneak up these stairs.”

It was difficult to see in the dimly lit stairwell. By the same token, she surmised they were better off not knowing everything that the dank, narrow space had to offer.

Lee turned to scowl down at Robert, who followed them up the stairs. “How much do you pay Park? Not that it's any of my business, but you'd think you'd want your employees to be able to afford decent housing.”

Robert sounded sheepish. “You're right. It isn't any of your business.” He was silent a moment before adding, “I pay a fair wage.”

Bai wondered what he considered a fair wage.

“It's the door on the right,” he offered lamely as he pointed to one of two doors on the landing.

“You've been here before?” Bai asked.

He shrugged. “This isn't the first time she's failed to show up for work.”

She eyed him with curiosity.

“It's not what you think. She and I have a purely professional relationship.”

“I wasn't thinking anything of the sort.”

It was a lie. The thought had crossed her mind.

“Methinks he doth protest too much,” added Lee.

Robert didn't offer a reply. Sniffing at the rank air and ignoring Lee's taunt, he turned his face away in denial.

Lee stood on the landing to knock on the door while Robert and Bai waited below on the stairs. There was no answer. He knocked again, louder, before trying the door. It was locked.

Lee looked back at her. “What do you want to do?”

“Pick it,” she said. “We need to see if she's all right.”

“You can't do that,” Robert protested. “That's illegal.”

She turned on him with an exasperated look. “I'd suggest you close your eyes and put your hands over your ears. See no evil. Hear no evil.”

Startled by her suggestion, he looked at her. Then, to her surprise, he did precisely what she'd suggested. She turned to Lee, who smiled and shook his head, obviously amused.

Lee made quick work of the lock. It was a simple tumbler that gave way with the slightest prodding. The door swung open to reveal a silent and empty hallway.

Lee entered first. Bai tapped Robert on the shoulder to get his attention before entering the apartment to stand in a small vestibule. Reluctant to enter, Robert hesitated at the doorway. She reached back to pull him in by the flat of his lapel, then slapped the door shut behind him.

“Just stand there and don't touch anything,” she cautioned.

His face pulled into a grimace as he whispered a reply. “Breaking and entering is a felony. I could be disbarred for this.”

“Why are you whispering?” she asked.

He stared at her mutely.

“Never mind,” she said, running low on patience. “Just stay here while we have a look around.”

“I'll check the kitchen in the back,” Lee advised her.

A small metal dinette and chairs were visible through the open doorway. Lee walked toward the back of the flat, while she turned right into a small living room. Overstuffed furniture, old and frayed, sat on a threadbare rug. A portable television with a twelve-inch screen rested on a side table. Doilies draped the arms of the furniture, and one sat under the television—obvious attempts to lend an air of hominess. The furnishings were old, but the flat was clean.

“Oh, my!”

Robert's exclamation got her to turn around. He peered through a doorway on the left. She assumed the doorway led to a bedroom or bathroom. He gripped the wood trim and swayed in place.

“I thought I told you to stay put,” she cautioned as she walked across the room to stand behind him.

Her reprimand didn't elicit a response. She had to push him aside to gain access to the blocked doorway. When she had a clear view into the gloomy room, she stopped and gasped with surprise.

A nearly naked Park lay across the bed, her only adornment a red silk scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Her tongue protruded obscenely from blue lips. Eyes stared wide, bulging and red. Folds of fat hung from her flabby limbs and torso—a testament to a sedentary life. A fluffy pink negligee with fake feathers pooled on the floor like a felled bird. A half-empty bottle of bourbon and two glasses sat on the nightstand. The room smelled of urine. Stained sheets beneath her body bore witness to her final humiliation.

Bai's mind registered the details of the scene in a brief instant. Robert stood at her back, his hand over his mouth as he gagged.

“Out, Robert!” she said forcefully, pushing him out the doorway.

“Lee,” she called, loudly enough to be heard in the kitchen.

She spun Robert around and pushed him toward the exit. He made it halfway down the hall before stopping.

Her voice must have carried some urgency because Lee came from the kitchen with his gun in his hand.

“What is it?” he asked.

Robert was bent over, heaving.

“It's Park. She's dead.”

Bai put her hand over her nose to avoid gagging in reflex to the acrid smell. Until that moment, she hadn't realized she'd been instinctively holding her breath. She looked at Lee and spoke through her cupped hand. “Have you touched anything?”

“I might have left prints on the front door and maybe the handle on the refrigerator. I opened it out of curiosity.”

“Find something to wipe down anything you've touched. I'm going to take a quick look around. Then you and I are going to leave while Robert reports her death to the police.”

Robert wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why me?”

She turned to him, her frustration and anger hidden behind the hand held to her nose. “Because you're her employer. And when she didn't show up for work, you became concerned and came looking for her. Her door was open, which you found odd, so you entered the apartment calling her name, only to find her dead on her bed. Besides which, you silly ass, you just puked in the middle of a crime scene. Do you think the detectives might miss that little detail?”

He stared at her blankly before his ability to reason kicked in. “I see your point,” he said, looking a little green. “I just don't want to be here alone with her.”

She could understand his fear of being alone with the dead. It was a fear she shared.

“You can walk downstairs with us and make the call from the street. There's no reason to wait for the police in the apartment.”