BREAKDOWN
—Chapter VIII—
The morning duties in Gio's Deli took most of my time. The energy I felt inside my veins surprised me, I survived another rough night but managed to wake up feeling somewhat rested. I had totally forgotten about Pietro, Betty and the detective game I've been immersed into, when I casually looked through one of deli windows and noticed the slim figure of Elizabeth Leigh approaching to my little restaurant.
I was convinced that woman was stalking me.
"Yo!" said Mauritzio the moment he saw her enter the deli. "Bambola, I've missed you. You're looking very fine today."
I wasn't sure he was talking to her or the pair of legs she flaunted under that pretty burgundy skirt. She offered him nothing more than little smile for greeting. She stopped in front of me.
"Did you call?"
I guessed that was her elegant way of saying 'good morning'.
"I never said I was going to call him."
"But you thought about it" she said and sat in one of the tables. "Will you do it now?"
I laughed, she really amused me. "Mauritzio! Bring some coffee—"
"Tea."
"—tea alla piccola principessa, here. You're very demanding; did anyone ever tell you that?" I looked at her from head to toe. "Have some respect to your elders. How old are you?"
"You won't expect any decent woman to answer that. How about you? You shaved yourself five years off since the first day I met you. Now it's hard to guess."
"So you like me scruffy" I smiled —Was I flirting with her?
Mauritzio came with the cup of tea, looked at both of us with distaste and muttered to himself all the way to the counter. "Suppongo che non avremo mai una possibilità. Vabbè, immagino che dovrò invece provarci con la bionda."
"Say what you want but I think you just came with that excuse just to see me." I tried to make a guess, "Twenty-four?"
"Don't think too highly of yourself, you're not that cute. And, I'm not twenty-four —are you?"
"I know many girls that would disagree with that statement —I'm not twenty-four, come on! Don't offend me" I checked the amount of freckles on her face, "You're not that cute either."
"I saw you checking my legs the other day," she said with a slightly crooked smile. I automatically grinned. She saw me looking at her, which was good.
She took a zip from her tea and said. "You're twenty-five."
"Twenty-seven" Mauritzio came with some cookies and ruined all the fun.
"So—" I started again.
"Weren't you going to call your friend?"
—0—
Pietro had sounded a bit upset across the line. We agreed to meet out of the office. I grabbed my jacket and gave a few instructions to Mauritzio.
"Bravo! Leave all the work to me and hang out with the girl. Way to go, boss."
Beth insisted in joining me. She'd asked Daniel the morning off.
"I don't think he's going to miss me" she said.
It was really funny. The magazine's main investor had died a few days ago, the company had lot of noxious press to palliate, employees to motivate, financial and operative processes to readjust… and Daniel was going to need as much help as possible. Maybe Betty was right, maybe Daniel needed a new assistant.
"Where's the van?" she asked as we went out of the deli to the bustling air of the streets of Manhattan.
"Mauritzio will be doing deliveries in the morning"
I don't think she liked the idea very much. She stood silent and pensive for a moment. "But you do walk, don't you?"
I reached for her hand and pulled her out of her thoughts. "Let's take the Metro."
She shuddered and slowly released her hand from inside mine. I must have known she wasn't the type that allowed people to invade her safety zone.
We finally reached the rendezvous joint, a small café not too far from the police station.
"What is Little Missy doing here?" what's the first thing that came out of his mouth right after a small stream of cigarette smoke.
Beth was 'little missy' now, Pietro must've been really pissed.
"Whatever I know, she knows" I said and sat on the table.
"What are you doing? This is not game, Gio. There could be a murderer out there."
"But your office closed the case, remember? You called it 'natural death'" said Beth.
"Where you going to tell me that Jenny worked for mode? Or where you going to do that right after telling me you slept with one of the potential suspects on the case?"
Pietro squeezed the rest of the cigarette in the ashtray and started a new one.
"Look, I know that I went a bit overboard with the blonde at Mode. But for my own sake I should start keeping my mouth shut and away from you. Someone is playing the snitch. This morning Averaimo was particularly annoyed at me. He was about to transfer me to another precinct."
"It's no surprise" said Beth, "he didn't look like the type of guy that would play soft with a rookie over something very grave as information leak."
"Actually he was quite happy. Everyone in the unit was. It had to be one of you who told him I had been conducting a parallel query inside that place. Like I said, I can't talk with you, guys. So if you excuse me, this conversation is over."
"Then why you didn't continue with the investigation?"
"I can't answer that."
"My aunt! My aunt paid your people to keep silent," Beth eyes opened wide. "My aunt could've paid you for—"
Pietro gasped but stood silent.
Beth looked at him and her eyes started crystallizing. Her face grew red and the little spot in her face darkened —Yes, I know what you're thinking.
"Pietro" I said. "You could've been paid to kill that man and hide the evidence."
His face turned into a state of alarm. The new detective-in-training had still a lot to learn if he could be broken down so easily by a pair of meddling busybodies.
"Man! I didn't take any money if that's what you are implying" then, he looked at Beth with disgust, "and I didn't kill your uncle. That is a serious accusation, missy.
"You must have gotten something" I said.
"Just a speed up in my promotion all we had to do was drop the files and the evidence. And yes, it was Victoria Hartley. Averaimo met with the Hartley lawyer at the office a couple of times."
Beth hands fell heavily on the table causing the ashtray and Pietro's glass to jump dangerously.
"I knew it!"
"I don't know if I can believe you anymore, Pietro." I said. "You could be lying to us to save your fat ass."
"You must believe me. I took nothing and I know nothing. I was just following orders. It came from the top. What you wanted me to do?"
"How about the security tapes?" Beth asked.
"I really can't tell you much. Just this: we really didn't found much, not even the weapon, some tapes were missing and some of the cameras, like the one in the Hartley office, weren't on that particular day."
"And why you didn't turn the cameras on after the incident happened. Was it the police's idea?"
"The son of Hartley begged us to shut down the surveillance system. He had his reasons he said. We didn't think it was going to help the investigation so we agreed."
Beth was taken aback at this and concentrated in her drink.
"Well, my friend." I said. "Now it's your change to make it right."
"What do you want, Gio? What you both want?"
"I want your help."
"You know I can't."
"Well, we can tell internal affairs of your improper behavior with a major witness and suspect on the case. Averaimo will be the least of your worries."
"You wouldn't. We're friends."
"Try us" Beth said in her glacial voice.
He looked at her and then to me.
"Gio, skirts are going to be your doom you know that."
"Yours too, it seems" I conveniently reminded him he'd been too careless as to sleep with the pretty receptionist involved in a crime.
"Fine. I'll see what I can do but I promise you nothing. Whatever you do, I don't think its going to end any good. There's people with money involved."
I called the waiter and ordered a couple drinks for Beth and me.
"Let's start with Jenny."
Pietro scuffed. He was really uncomfortable.
"Okay, Gio, let me tell you something" He lowered the voice and got closer to me. "Leave my little sister out of this. She had two days leave so she wasn't there when it all happened. You can check it in the office. It's enough the fact that she has to work in that environment, to also fall into your games, okay?"
"Why she asked for that leave? Was she sick?" asked Beth. "Did she tell you something was going to happen at Mode?"
"What is this? This is ridiculous! She was depressed, that's why. And let's leave it like that."
"Why you didn't tell me that Jenny worked at Meade?"
"I think you didn't want anyone to know about your relationship with the company" Beth said.
Pietro laughed.
"You got me there. The least thing I wanted was to be pushed out of the team. I really needed that breakthrough. But I mainly wanted to protect my sister. She's been having a rough time at Meade these days."
Beth and I looked at each other, "how so?"
"It's personal."
"No secrets, Pietro" I warned him.
"Okay, but this is not going to help you in what you're looking for. I know very little. She has a guy. She doesn't talk about it. I suspect he's married or is her boss. All I know he works at Mode and that he's loaded. I can't have him treat my sister like a common prostitute."
Daniel Meade. Must be him. I liked him and he was a great friend. But his reputation as Manhattan most prominent bachelor was unbeatable. But really, I wouldn't in a million years imagine he would have gone to sink his ink at the accounting department. He's the type who goes for supermodels.
We left the place, not before we forced Pietro to keep in touch with us.
As we traveled back to Meade Publications, Beth kept silent and didn't say a word. Her face was like carved on a rock, emotionless.
I tried to break the ice as soon as we found ourselves in the reception desk of Mode.
"Hey, I told you my age. You still owe me yours."
"Good bye, Gio" she said and disappeared from my sight.
I suddenly felt a warmth whisper breeze and the tender caress of a pair of lips against my left earlobe. It sent shivers down my spine and other sensible zones of my body.
"She's only twenty-two."
There she was, Amanda Tanen almost nibbling my ears.
"Really? Wow," I said straightening my jacket and pulling apart. "I thought she was older."
From under the desk, Marc jumped. What had he been doing down there?
"That kid just finished college. It's astonishing how this places hires people with no experience for important positions." I noticed he had a little thing in his hands. It looked like a walkie-talkie. "Okay, Mandy. Time to puff!"
"To what?" she said.
"Puff" he made a gesture as if there was a cloud of smoke around him, "disappear, vanish, like a ninja."
These guys were really weird. Amanda leaned once again until she was just a few inches distance from my face and winked at me.
"We're going to do some spy work."
Marc pulled her out of the desk and they went away.
"Hey!" I followed. "You can't do this without us."
"I didn't invite you in, pickle boy."
We entered a place full of clothes and accessories; there wasn't anyone else in but us.
"I'm not leaving until I know what you're up to."
A voice sounded through the electronic device. It was Claire Meade.
Amanda pulled something from one of the shelves and a door magically opened in front of us.
Marc stood in the way trying to prevent my entry.
"Come on! I'm part of the team" I demanded.
"Over my dead body" he challenged me.
I gave him half a smile and, raising one of my arms, I grabbed him by the waist. Like a bull, I charged and pulled him inside the room while Amanda closed the door. I threw him against a bed.
"Mmm, that was intense!" said Marc putting a curl back in place, obviously pleased.
"Give it up, fairy. He's straight." Amanda helped him out of the bed.
"What's this place?" I asked. I wouldn't have guessed a place like this existed inside that office: a bed, curtains, a bar, sex toys. The employees of Mode really knew how to pass a good time —Wait, did Betty…?
Marc turned up the volume of the transceiver. The voices in the background were from Claire Meade and Wilhelmina.
There was some talk about business and Victoria Hartley.
"How ungrateful. I kept my side of the deal. She still doesn't know about your affair with her ex-husband."
"You didn't bring me here to discuss that did you, Wilhelmina? You're much better than this. Say what you have to say."
The phone started ringing in the background. But nobody seemed to care to pick it.
"It's about the child you had with Calvin Hartley."
There was a small laugh through the speakers and Claire said.
"I told you before —"
"Claire, Claire. You're such a bad liar. I found out you never had an abortion."
There was a sudden silence. The phone started ringing again.
"The child is alive and you knew that all this time."
After a brief moment she said.
"What a shame. I would have loved to tell Cal about all this. Don't you feel a remorse he never knew he was a father?"
"I see. You really have nothing. Cal knew about this and he did as much as he could to behave like a father."
"Now, were you a mother?" Wilhelmina said, "You probably threw the baby for adoption somewhere. I'd love to find out who he is… or her. I bet it would be great scandal: Illegitimate child from Claire and Cal Hartley finally found."
"You better stay away from this. Don't you dare meddle in my affairs."
"Maybe Cal was going to come clean to the world and you decided to kill him cold."
We heard the sound of shoes and of a door closing. It seemed like Wilhelmina was left alone.
"Oh, no" Marc said biting his nails. "She has to be checking the machine messages, now. She must've found out I wasn't there to pick up the phone."
As if on cue, there was a huge yell that hurt our ears.
"Marc! Marc! Where the hell is that useless sissy!"
As swiftly as he could, Marc ran out and left Amanda and me alone inside the secret room.
"Amanda, did you tell anyone else about us and about Pietro?"
"No and I haven't seen him since that night, either."
I was puzzled and a bit worried: too much information in my head. But I had to return back to the deli, it was getting late.
I finally stood up and motioned to the door feeling suddenly a bit blue.
"I know what you're thinking,"I was getting ready for another of Amanda's silly comments but, instead, she said, "that Beth could be that child, that she's Claire and Mr. Hartley's illegitimate daughter."
I turned and looked at her in awe. It was as if she could read my mind.
"Do you think she knows?" I saw worry in her face. "I know how it feels when you don't know who your real parents are."
She probably didn't dislike Beth as much as Marc did.
"I think it's better if she doesn't know about this yet" I said before I left. "At least not until we're completely sure."
To be continued
Notes:
Bambola = (it.) doll
alla piccola principessa = (it.) to the little princess.
Suppongo che non avremo mai una possibilità. = (it.) I guess we have no chance together
Vabbè, immagino che dovrò invece provarci con la bionda = (it.) Oh well, I'll have to try the blondie instead.
