Kitabı oku: «Job or death in Philadelphia. An American crime novel», sayfa 4

«Sounds like an awful lot of jobs and responsibilities to me,» I mumbled, impressed by her list.

«That’s what I thought. I agree, it is a far cry from the teaching position I accepted.» Debbie shrugged her shoulders angrily.

«Why would they trick you with a job description?»

«At first, I didn’t know. Now, I understand that the people who work there, at the core of the program, are immigrants. They came to the country years ago, and they stayed with this company for ten to twenty years. They don’t have an American education, and they have a bizarre view of the ways American business operates. Until now, they had no problems dealing with the authorities and the job market. But now that the government has cut down on immigration, they desperately need somebody with perfect English and knowledge of business. You know, before the 9/11 attack, the government accepted hundreds of thousands of new immigrants every year. The job market always needed more low-paid workers, and NOSE flourished. Somehow, they received a non-profit status that gave them significant privileges in conducting business. This surprised me at the very least, because they were making a hefty profit with their headhunt.»

«How do they make their money?» I went from another end. Ultimately, I wanted to understand what information Debbie knew that would damage Gamma.

«This is the most interesting part,» Debbie said, smiling. «I’m a Certified Public Accountant, so I always ask myself this question: How does the company make its money? And most of the time I would get no answer at all! At NOSE, I came across a very bizarre arrangement. I was helping Gamma to pack her documents, and… Oh, my God, it is a fire!» She screamed, parked the van, and ran out.

I followed her across the school parking lot into the woods that spread just three hundred feet away. Clouds of gray smoke were rising among the trees, without visible flames. Suddenly, a succession of sounds broke the silence. Either gunshots or burning evergreen branches.

«Matthew!» Debbie screamed and ran through the bushes, following her parental or maternal instinct. I tailgated her, breathing lungs full of bitter smoke. The cracking sounds were getting louder, and the next moment we stopped on the edge of a clear spot in the wood. Every tree and every bush around were burning like a torch. Fire, red and smoky, ran along the tree trunks like silk. I stopped in fascination and noticed a boy standing still in the midst of it all. Debbie grabbed her son from behind and tried to pull him out of the burning circle, but the fourteen-year-old just tossed her to the ground, with super strength, as if the fire gave him this creepy power.

«Matthew, let’s go!» Debbie howled at the top of her lungs. She quickly rebounded back on her feet and grabbed her son again with both hands. The boy didn’t look at her even once, just kept staring at the fire surrounding them. Suddenly, behind my back, the fire engine siren cut through the thick smoky air, and two shiny red fire trucks showed themselves among the trees.

I ran after Debbie, and together we pulled her son away from the fire and out of the way of the fire crew. Matthew was taller and heavier than me, and in his stupor, his body felt like stone. Two firefighters were running toward us when Matthew saw them. He pushed his mother down again and hit me in my face with his elbow. For a second, I saw sparks flying, and my nose bled. The boy threw me off his back like a young mustang and ran towards the burning trees. Debbie got on her feet and ran after him, limping. Two heavily equipped firefighters ran behind her.

Without a sound or hesitation, Matthew ran into the burning bush. Debbie screamed hysterically, but couldn’t make herself go into the fire after her child. Considering the splitting pain in my eyes and nose, I didn’t blame her. Two running firefighters passed her and entered the fire, looking like immortal creatures from outer space.

With a terrible noise, the fire engines finally opened their water supplies, and flooded the ground and my expensive shoes. I ran to Debbie, grabbed her hand, and pulled her away from the clouds of smoke and steam and water. The police officer sent us to the ambulance, saying that the guys from the fire department got her son. «He’s getting medical help,» the cop added. «He got burned.»

We found an ambulance parked in the school parking lot, and Debbie asked to look at her son. He was unconscious and heavily burned. His hair was gone; black cracks in his cheeks and hands oozed with a tear-like substance.

Debbie didn’t even cry. Somebody gave her a bottle of water, she got into the ambulance, and they took off. A moment later, I realized I had an hour before the lie detector appointment.

CHAPTER 7

Water ran down on the floor mat the moment I pressed the gas pedal. It’s amazing how much water gets on you when you try to put out a fire. I congratulated myself on my shoe choice. In the morning, I had picked up some reliable and simple-looking moccasins from Dolce & Gabbana. It is still unclear to me what one would be expected to wear, if, during working hours, one has to extinguish a fire and then show up at a high-end Center City security firm, accompanying a client, and representing Joe Madnick’s law firm.

Joe didn’t give me a security company phone number, so I couldn’t just call and cancel the appointment. I had to drive there myself. During the next thirty minutes, driving to the city, I thought of getting organized by writing phone numbers, addresses and important dates. After all, the work of a detective is all about collecting data and synthesizing it.

I parked on the corner of 5th and Arch Street, which was just a block away from the hole in the wall we had rented with Iris after my third divorce. I got out of my Jaguar. Common wisdom says to wait for four years after a divorce. Don’t wait, just do it, I say. I got divorced because something right and true waited for me and couldn’t come to me, because my dysfunctional marriage was in the way. I recalled a black guy without a name. The police called him Joe Smith, who attacked me then. If it wasn’t for him, Alexander would have walked right past me, looking through me without seeing me, and we would never be together. Call it destiny. I say, when something bad happens, look for something good around the next corner. (By the way, I never pressed charges against my attacker, and Alexander helped him to get legal aid. A year ago, he was out of prison and on his way to recovery from amnesia. I didn’t know where the guy was at that point, but if he was in prison, it wasn’t because of me.)

555 Walnut Street occupied a respectable-looking brownstone office building. Inside, the porter looked at me from head to toe, admiring, probably, my casual but smart style, took my signature and pointed to the fourth floor. He was very articulate, flipping four fingers at me and pointing all four fingers toward the elevator door. In the company’s hallway, there was a huge brass eagle on the wall. In its beak, it held a brass log with the lettering «Planet Security» on it.

«Good afternoon. How can I help you?» A melodious woman’s voice startled me, and I looked around for its source.

«Can I help you?» The same voice insisted. I crossed the hallway to look at a wooden structure bigger than some people’s houses and found a woman sitting inside.

«Hi,» I said. «I have an appointment at two o’clock for a polygraph test.»

The secretary didn’t even look at me, searching in her computer.

«Oh, Deborah Cooper. Very good, madam. You can enter this door and wait there. Where’s your lawyer?»

«He’ll be here shortly,» I said. «I didn’t know he was supposed to be here, but if he was, he would.»

Behind the door was a long, narrow corridor without windows. I crashed into one of the chairs along the wall and tried to call Joe, but his phone bounced me back. I wonder how his poor clients can reach him, if he’s unreachable even to his own detective?

The door next to me opened, and a guy with huge upper arms looked out.

«Are you Deborah Cooper?» He asked crossly. His small but wise eyes searched me up and down and then stopped on my face.

«Er…,» I said. «The deal is…»

«What’s this smell? Did you smoke here?» He wrinkled his nose just like my daughter had done, smelling something unpleasant.

«The restroom is at the end of the corridor. Don’t smoke here! When you are done, come here and knock at the door. Do you understand English? Where’s your lawyer?»

«I don’t know,» I answered honestly, and headed for the restroom. They had a tiny unisex restroom. I peed first, then looked at myself in the mirror, and screamed. No wonder my Ivy League school English wasn’t good enough for him. In the mirror, childhood’s nightmare was staring back at me: ash-covered makeup like a gray mask on my face, my red hair styled with Curls Up gel all frizzed up in a hairball and hanging above my right ear. My L’Oréal super black mascara was smeared in big dark circles. Wet paper towels took off mascara and ashes, but my hair stayed dirty gray no matter how much I wetted it. I couldn’t waste any of the paid test time anymore, so I returned to the door and knocked. The same guy let me into the room and directed me to the only chair.

«Sit here, please,» he said, and when I took a seat, he buckled me up with wires. «Don’t move,» he said sternly. «Look over there, listen to my question and answer only «yes» or «no.»

«What if…?»

«Only «yes» or «no.»

«Are you Deborah Cooper?»

«Well, Cooper is actually a married name…»

«Yes or no?»

«Yes,» I lied. After all, it was entirely this guy’s fault because he never let me explain that Debbie went to the hospital with her burned son, and Joe disappeared and wasn’t answering my calls.

«Are you thirty-eight years old?»

«No! I’m thirty.» I was actually thirty-five, but it wasn’t for him to know. Now, I wanted to pass this test for Debbie, so we could sue Gamma Woods and the company. The poor woman was suffering too much, and nobody should get away with accusing their co-workers of stealing. Joe Smith came to my mind again. He accused me of attacking him, and if it wasn’t for my material witness, Alex, I could be in prison right now.

«Sorry, could you repeat the last question?»

«Did you take Gamma Woods’ money from her handbag?»

«No!»

«Did you take jewelry from Gamma Woods’ handbag?»

What kind of jewelry was she carrying in her handbag?

«Yes or no?»

«No! Would you carry jewelry in a handbag the size of a hiking backpack?»

«I don’t know. Don’t ask me questions.» He picked up the phone, which didn’t even ring. «Hi, Joe. Yes, I have your client. She’s here. She took a test. What do you mean? She looks like… a woman. What is her hair color? She has some grayish hair. Yes, she passed. Take care.»

He slammed the receiver.

«Joe can’t believe you’re here. Said that you’re a very brave kid.»

I drove back home like mad, trying to beat the rush hour traffic. I didn’t want Alexander to see me coming home late with my after-fire look and stench. Driving, I kept calling Joe and Debbie, and couldn’t reach anybody.

The phone suddenly rang just when I tucked it safely away.

«Mommy, I want you here! It’s an emergency, emergency!» A heart-wrenching voice cried for me through static.

I got the impression my daughter needed something from me.

«Where are you, sweetie?» I asked dutifully.

«I’m at school. Everything is ruined. My life is ruined. It’s horrible, horrible. We have a cheerleading practice. Please, come here now.» My daughter shouted through sobs. «Bring clothes.»

She disconnected.

I reached for the glove compartment, got a secret stash of cigarettes, and lit one. I don’t smoke, but always have them, as I have a chocolate bar and a bottle of Excedrin pills, as my Emergency Supply. Something happened at school that ruined my daughter’s clothes. Hopefully, it wasn’t fire. For a second, a crazy thought came to my mind that Matthew had escaped the hospital and set my daughter’s school on fire to get back at me. Oh, maybe they’ve got their own arsonist. I recall hearing on Fox News that sixty percent of firefighters are pyromaniacs and arsonists. Probably, it’s as true as to say that sixty percent of police officers are control freaks; sixty percent of surgeons are sadists, and sixty percent of politicians are crooks. Even if it were a fire, why would Iris need clothes? I went through the fire this morning, and I’m fine. Besides, this morning, she had such a sweet Ralph Lauren Pink Pony outfit.

Minutes later, I ran up the stairs of Bridgewater Private School, clenching my fitness clothes, which ride with me everywhere in the trunk of my car in case I get an urge to go to the gym.

As with any old private school, the Bridgewater School had its rules for kids and for parents. «Socialize or go to hell» was the first among equal rules. Being an introvert, I wouldn’t survive at this school a day, unless I was a good actress, which I thought I was. That’s why I didn’t even flinch when my steady trot was intercepted by Ester Daum, our rumor generator. I just said, «Ester, dear. You look great!»

«And you look… weird. And what’s that smell? Are you smoking?»

«No, I don’t.» I moved away from her, breezing aside.

«Did you notify your health insurance company about your habits?» She smelled Clinique Happy.

«Did you see my Iris?» I asked, trying to redirect her attention.

«Of course, I saw her. Poor girl is so upset. It would never have happened if you attended her after-class activities.»

I’m a working mother! I wanted to scream at Ester, but just asked for directions. Girls had their practices at the Recreation Hall. From behind the huge oak door, I heard them shriek and cheer their cheers. Inside, I saw a bunch of sweet and sweating eleven-year-olds in their cute outfits. Not a trace of fire or flood, or any other natural or artificial disaster.

«Hi, mom!» Iris came up to me happily. «Did you come to see our practice?»

«No, I brought you clothes. You called me thirty minutes ago.»

«Oh, right! Something terrible happened. Let’s go outside. What did you bring?»

In the corridor, she inspected my stuff, like a customs officer at JFK airport.

«What’s that?»

«My fitness clothes.»

«Are you insane? Oh… my… gosh! They’re filthy and for grandmothers. I need something to put on. My outfit is completely ruined.»

This is what she thought about my Chanel fitness outfit?

«It looks in perfect condition to me.»

«No. It’s ruined because Marlina, the yuckiest and most disgusting girl in our class, came wearing the same outfit today.»

«You said on the phone that you had an emergency.»

«A fashion emergency! Oh, mom, you understand nothing, do you?»

Only a year ago, living in a rental hole in the wall, she was a gentle child with huge, sad brown eyes and a shy smile. Now, she has become a flawless preteen.

«Anyway,» my angel continued. «Can you give me a ride home? I hate being in a car with Larissa. She smells like a dead cat.»

She picked up her bag, and we went outside.

«By the way, mom, you stink too. Will I stink when I grow up? You know, dogs smell really bad but kind of nice. Did you notice?»

«I like the smell of horses better,» I said.

«You know what is really strange? When I get my Vanity Fair magazine, I love the smell of perfumes on their pages. But when you buy me those perfumes in bottles, they smell nothing like their samples. Why is it so?»

«It’s because you smell glue on the pages.» I carried my gym clothes back to the car, glad about my baby seeing life critically and philosophically.

Mark, our butler, was cooking, and our mesmerized animals just sat on the floor behind him. Being deeply engaged in anything dealing with food, the cat and the dog had a harmonious relationship that only a few people can achieve. Like my second ex-mother-in-law, for example, who, despite all my attempts to put her son in prison, was still nice to me. Being a huge European German shepherd, Elvis, who kills any cat on our property and beyond, gently treated Pepper. And Pepper, an old grouchy black cat who would attack any dog that crosses him, took it into the habit of rubbing against Elvis’s chest, allegedly marking his territory. It happened magically after the two animals were introduced to each other. I never saw them having negotiations of any sort. They just firmly accepted each other. Their tolerance was even more amazing if you consider the different social classes in which they grew up. If you want to see animals born on different sides of the track, look at Pepper and Elvis.

Pepper had adopted us soon after we moved to the corner of 4th and Arch Street. The first time I saw him, a girl in a local school soccer team uniform carried him upside down. When I passed them, the cat looked at me with his bulging mad eyes, and a second later, I understood why. The girl climbed up the stairs to her apartment door, turned around, and sent the cat flying all the way down the stairs. The cat landed with a terrible scream and ran up the street and into me. I picked him up, feeling tiny bones through his fur. He didn’t have any weight.

«This is my cat,» the soccer girl announced from above me. She kept her door ajar, just in case.

«What is your name?» I asked.

«No my name for you,» she said quickly.

«Well, I know where you live. I will find out your parents’ names. It’s easy.»

«Why do you need it?» She could’ve run away a long time ago, but she didn’t, being halted by her terrible curiosity.

«I will file a complaint about you with the Animal Cruelty Police Department,» I said, feeling the cat’s claws sinking deeper and deeper into my shoulder.

«No such a thing as the Animal Cruelty Police,» the girl said. I could see she wasn’t sure.

«Oh, they’re everywhere. I’m one of the undercover Animal Cruelty Police cops. You really got yourself in trouble by throwing this cat against the stairs.»

The girl stared back at me with an expression of eternal misery on her skinny little child’s face.

«But we can have an agreement,» I said peacefully. «You give me your cat forever, and I won’t report you to our headquarters, even if it’s against the rules. Okay?»

She agreed and disappeared behind the squeaky door, and I entered possession of a non-tax-deductible piece of property, being a middle-aged black cat, who loved to be around me so much that he rode in the cab sitting on my lap, when I let him.

Elvis had his own amazing rescue story, involving a member of the Austrian Royalty. Thanks to my current mother-in-law Princess Davidoff, everybody familiar with European high society folklore knows this story.

One day, His Highness Duke Alexander of Kingsburg, my hubby’s distant cousin, took Alexander for a visit to a security training center working with dogs trained to track illegal immigrants from Turkey and Albania. They have got the most ferocious beasts up there who chow people down like candy.

«What is your main method of training?» His Highness asked, holding a walking stick in his gloved hand. All along the corridor, dogs were throwing their muscular bodies against the metal bars, choking with fury. The answer was: beating, hunger and electroshock. His Highness nodded with satisfaction.

«What’s wrong with this one?» Alexander asked, coming to a halt in front of a cage with a red and black shepherd, who stood there wagging his tail.

«It’s a waste. No matter how hard we beat this dog, electroshock and starve it, it stays friendly. Some kind of mutant. Bad heredity. We decided to destroy it.»

Alexander extended his relatively royal hand, and the dog licked it, reaching with his quick red tongue through the bars. At the end of the day, the dog was transported to the Prince’s townhouse, and two weeks later, he and Alexander caught their flight to Newark.

That’s why I always make sure that our animals have enough love and food in my house.

«What are we having for dessert?» I asked, peeking into the hot oven.

«Baked apples,» Mark said proudly.

«Oh, what a healthy and light snack! Zero percent fat.»

«Yes, ma’am. I only added a couple of sticks of butter to the honey to make it caramelize properly,» my imported cook explained. I sighed; the British always find a way to sneak butter on you. «Mrs. Davidoff, how many persons do you expect for dinner today?»

«Mmm? I guess Alexander, me, girls, Larissa. That’s it. Five, without the dog and cat.»

«Very well, ma’am.»

I ran upstairs to take a shower and change for dinner. Only in the shower did it finally dawn on me that the guy, administering the polygraph test, had dropped Joe on the phone. Debbie didn’t flunk the test. It didn’t matter that, instead of Debbie, I took it. We’re one team. It was enough that I believed her. She had her good name intact; and damn me, if I wouldn’t do anything to help her.

«Honey, what are you doing here?»

My royal spouse showed up at the door in his immaculate Hugo Boss gray suit. One look and you know he’s a lawyer. However, a second look at his round face, potato-shaped nose and kind eyes, would make you think he put on this suit by mistake.

«Look who is here,» and my hubby kicked the bathroom door open, proudly showing me Joe and some unfamiliar woman.

I pulled the shower curtain as fast as I could, but I suspect they noticed me.

«Darling,» my husband shouted over the noise of running water. «Let me introduce you to Susan. She is Joe’s girlfriend, and they’re staying with us for some time!»

«Great,» I shouted back, imagining long and meaningful discussions of Debbie’s case with my boss over a cup of cappuccino with fresh whipped cream. «Let me just get dressed.»

Ten minutes later, I was in the dining room, where the table for five people was set up with impeccable British accuracy. Besides Susan, a big, slightly overweight woman with dark curly hair, I met Jim, her fifteen-year-old son, and Jen, her ten-year-old daughter.

Mark showed up with the appetizers, and I asked him to arrange tableware for four more people.

«Yes, ma’am,» he said, observing a hungry crew of adults and kids. «About those apples…»

«An Entenmann’s cake would do it,» I told him.

«Very well, madam.» He left, and I felt something that I never felt about all my husbands. If Mark dies, I wanted to be buried next to him.

«So, Joe and Susan… Where did you guys meet each other?» My husband had jovially loosened his tie and smoothed on his lap a starched cotton napkin with his embroidered initials.

«I was doing a fund drive for Drexel University,» began Susan, and Joe’s name was on the list of potential beneficiaries. «So, I called, and we talked, and I loved his voice. Then we met and liked each other right away. Right, honey?» She placed her big, well-groomed hand on his sleeve. Joe frowned.

«I had quite a fight with the financial office of the university about taking my name off their list. I generously give money to my Alma Mater, Columbia University. I don’t understand how the list of Columbia alumni turned up in the possession of Drexel University’s financial office.»

«Good news travels fast,» Alexander said, chewing a piece of grilled fish. «Girls, Jim and Jen will stay with us for some time. Do you want to show them around the house?»

«No,» Evana said darkly. «Not at night.»

Iris looked at her above wineglasses and floral arrangements. «You don’t think that…»

«Yes, that’s exactly what I think.» Evana looked at the newcomers. «We don’t go around the castle at night, because it’s haunted.»

«No, it’s not,» Alexander said firmly. «You can go anywhere in the house. It’s okay. What about going to see a movie tomorrow? Overboard? I laughed my head off when I watched it.»

«I’m not going to watch Overboard,» Evana said.

«Why, sweetheart?» Alexander was more surprised than upset by her rejection. Indeed, saving the world takes all his time and then some. If he wanted to do a movie watch, his troops ought to comply.

«Because!»

«I know why,» Iris, polite as usual, interrupted. «She never watches movies that get bad reviews from Rotten Tomatoes. It’s sick not to have your own opinion.»

«It’s none of your business!» Evana placed her silverware on the table and covered it with her napkin in protest.

«What are the Rotten Tomatoes?» Alexander asked.

«It’s a site with movie reviews,» Iris eagerly explained. «I have enough of them! Go and see what kind of crap they cooked up on Fantastic Beasts! They are irrelevant!»

«Did you mean to say „irreverent“? And watch your mouth, young lady. Only I can use this kind of language in front of your parents,» Joe interfered. «Personally, I don’t go to watch movies. I can’t sit in a movie theater behind somebody with head lice and next to somebody with tuberculosis.»

«Fantastic Beasts is a dead fish. Harry Potter is a dead fish,» Joe’s lady friend’s son Jim said suddenly, and everybody looked at him: Evana with gratitude and Iris with fury. «Harry Potter is so outdated. It doesn’t even have real magic in it. It’s fake.»

«I can’t stand it,» Iris, my simple-minded offspring, jumped to her feet. «This dinner is a disaster.»

«I disagree,» my boss said with his mouth full. «This filet mignon is perfect.»

«Mark is a great cook. Staying here, you’ll get used to it.» I put my two cents into the conversation.

«I’m not staying, no way, no how.» Joe looked at me like I was nuts. «I have my own place. Susan will stay here with the kids. Her husband kicked them out of their mutual residence.»

Now, everything has become clear. They were just friends.

«He has no right to kick you out with the kids,» said my angry and beautiful husband. He always looks transformed when defending the weak, like women and Arab detainees.

«The old guy hired a PI and got evidence of her cheating on him,» Joe explained calmly.

«Cheating? With whom?» Iris tossed back her long blonde curls, observing our lady guest with a newfound interest.

«With me, of course. With the old evil crazy white man,» Joe explained, chewing impatiently. «That’s why I have to provide her and her kids with food and shelter. That’s why they’re here.»

After we congratulated Joe on his right choice of actions, he left for home. His people went on a tour around the castle and settled down in their rooms. Finally, having time for myself, I climbed to my freshly changed soft bed with a perfumed issue of Vanity Fair and unfolded the magazine on criminal and social reports. You can never get that cozy with a computer. Try to fall asleep with a working laptop on your chest! The Internet is disorienting, and it’s hard to find the right information, or any information dated prior to 1995. However, there are sites with funny and exquisite content, like Bill Bickel’s «Unusual Crime News,» that I read every week.

Suddenly, I put away the magazine. Matthew Cooper had set the principal’s car on fire a year ago, when his grandfather died. Today, he set himself and the wood on fire because his father was arrested in front of him. Plus, if he heard about his mother being accused of stealing, that might put him over the edge also. He just couldn’t stand emotional pain, it seemed, and tried to destroy himself to stop the pain. Wondering if this trait runs in the family of his mother or his father, I fell asleep.