BREAKDOWN
—Chapter XIII—
For Katrina.
Because sometimes we just need a punching-bag.
It was early that Friday morning and, like every day for the last seven days, I made sure Beth arrived safely to her office. Jenny Vitelli was waiting for us, carrying a little box with the few belongings she collected in her brief stay at Meade Publications.
She came closer to me and gave me a little kiss. She picked a little 'Hello Kitty' Doll from inside the box and gave it to Beth.
"Something to remember me by" she said and then, lowered her voice, ""thanks for not telling my brother."
"You'll have to, eventually."
"I know." Her face saddened.
"It's going to be okay" Beth said. "I'm really proud of you."
"Thank you" she said and hugged Beth.
I felt out of the picture. It was like they spoke in a secret language forbidden to me, two total strangers that, for an unknown reason, had developed an invisible bond between them.
"I guess this is it" she continued. "I can't stay in this office anymore. I'm going to go back and work in Brooklyn."
"I'm sorry" was all I could say.
"I promise. I'll visit" Beth said quite inarticulately. "This—it's not fair. I—"
"Don't worry about me. I made my choice. And Brooklyn is fine. I need to start somewhere. Well, goodbye and thank you, again."
She was about to leave, then she turned back.
"My brother told me you wanted to know anything related to Mr. Hartley. Perhaps, I could tell you a little something in return for all your kindness. While I was doing the accounts I noticed there were regular movements flowing from Cal Hartley's account into Claire Meade's. It wouldn't have meant anything really, but the amounts drastically increased in the past month. I did some individual checking on the books and found it particularly abnormal that equal amount of funds ended filling Daniel's expense account."
"I see" Beth said. "Thanks. I'm sure that information will be useful to us."
"I'll see you later, then."
After saying those words, she left.
"Did she ever tell you who she was having an affair with?" I said, staring through the glass that separated us from the office of the editor-in-chief of Mode. "Daniel isn't coming today either, is he?"
"He's got the whole week off. He'll be back by Monday."
Strange. Mode in such state and my friend constantly disappearing.
"He's still on the list. You know?" Beth added. "I've been checking his finances and he's a mess. I'm so glad I didn't agree to do his personal finances."
She was definitely not Betty.
"You don't have the needed vocation to be an assistant, do you?"
"If by that you mean whether I was born to work like this forever, you're probably right."
"You really are working to launch your own magazine, aren't you?" I recalled the projects she once showed me on her briefcase. "So, what's keeping you?"
"The right time and some funding" she said, "just to find the perfect timing."
Beth pushed me away from her desk. I had been comfortably sitting near her.
"Enough talk. I got work to do. I'll see you at lunch. And, Gio," She said and focused in her computer, "about Jenny. I don't think we should talk about her affairs if she doesn't want to. We must respect her privacy."
So she knew. I also figured she wasn't going to tell me.
At least I was glad she wasn't scare of me. We had grown somewhat fonder of each other since I left the doctor's office. That day I arrived home with no answers and feeling more confused than I could ever be. But Beth was there, waiting for me. The house was clean; the box of newspapers, gone and I didn't dare protest. Instead, I talked and she patiently listened to my open mind all through that night and every following night. Our usual routine: we ate dinner at the small kitchen table, I spoke and she mostly listened until we hit late hours and it was time to sleep.
Those conversations made me I realize I'd been on my own for too long.
And little by little, the nightmares started disappearing. I guess had no real use for a shrink. It hit me that probably all I needed was someone who would listen to me for a change. I've always been a good listener, they always said, but who ever listened to me? Who ever took care of me?
Suddenly, I didn't mind the red in her head that much.
After the lunch rush, the Detective Squad agreed to meet at my Deli. Beth, Marc and I were already reviewing some material Pietro had recently handled to us when we a sudden shout of horror made us jump in our seats.
The first thing that caught my eye was the shinning glitter of a butcher's knife right in front of our noses.
"Attento!" Maurizo cried trying not to harm the careless Amanda with the sharp edge of the knife he was holding. He quickly made some fancy move and slipped it safely into a side sleeve of his apron as if it was a pistol holster.
Then, he grabbed Amanda by the waist and kissed her fully on the lips.
"Babe, you could get killed" he unplugged one of earbuds off her ears so she could listen better. "Pay more attention next time."
"Oh dear! What was that all about?" Amanda giggled. "That thing you just did was kind of hot."
"What? This?" he said with a smug smile, taking the knife again and playing a bit with it "I studied in Modena for a while."
"And that is—"
"An Italian Military Academy" I said, sitting back straight on my chair. "He got kicked out for his violent character and —what was it again? Insubordination."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, clearly not understanding the word.
"That means —how you say?" he leaned closer to her and whispered "a rebel without a cause, babe."
Even Beth had to smile at Maurizo's silly flirting.
"He's all talk" I said "and quite tamed. He follows my orders like an obedient puppy dog."
Amanda checked his well-trained buttock while my cousin returned to his place behind the Deli counter.
"A dog with a nice tail!" she said "Yeah, I think my Maury would make a good killer. Sometimes, in these types of stories, the killer is the cutest one."
"Does that make me the primary subject?'" I claimed with a smile.
"You wish" Beth raised an eyebrow.
"I know you find me cute enough" I slowly caressed my beard, now thicker and better trimmed, "you like me, just admit it."
"Get over yourself."
"Okay, boring" Marc yawned and opened some space for Amanda to take a seat.
"Look at this, Marc!" she waved her hands in excitement. "The best invention since Wonderbra: audiobooks! Now I can actually read the whole thing!"
"Congratulations on your recent discovery but," noted Beth, "I don't think you're actually 'reading' when you're 'listening' to audiobooks."
"Nobody asked your opinion, Pipi Longstocking, really" Marc added.
"Listening, reading, whatever" Amanda pursed her lips and fiddled with her little ipod. "I was just at the part where the mysterious killer cut the whole body of a victim into little pieces except her feet and her shoes. Isn't it weird? I always thought that accessories were clues! Wait—I'll have to listen to it again."
"You're sick" said Beth.
"Oh, you have no idea how fun are these mystery novels! And this, what we're doing, is all fun! As long as I know I'll never be the victim."
"You know," Beth stared at Amanda's frivolity for a while and then said, "you could both fit the killer bill nicely, murdering all these people just for the sake of some fun, setting your detective fantasy for your own pleasure."
"Oh that's ridiculous" Amanda said, non-plussed, grabbed a huge chunk of chocolate biscuit and shoved it into her mouth. "Mmm, well, maybe for a pair of Manolo Shoes."
Or for food, apparently.
"No new murders, nothing" Marc said finishing the newspaper.
"That's a good thing, isn't it?" said Amanda still chewing.
"No, something is not right. It's too quiet."
I knew what Marc meant. Nothing abnormal had happened in the past week: the usual reports from the police but nothing else. Slowly, the confidence returned to the people at Mode. Even my nightmares had been disappearing and I could relax a bit, except a certain growing feeling that I've been watched or followed.
"Do you think the killer is done?" Amanda insisted. "Maybe he's moved from city or lost interest."
"Maybe he's just distracted with something else" I said.
"You know, in the books, when everything is calm like this, it's usually the time for another murder."
"What if he's just angry at his two recent failed attempts? What if he's replanning his next move?" Beth said. "I don't think this is over."
"We're still not sure he's the same killer" said Marc.
It was frustrating! It was as if we were sitting in a big pile of useless clues!
"One thing I do believe" he continued, "he's losing the faith in himself. Maybe something is troubling him, making him sloppy."
"Maybe he's just human" I said.
"No, he's not human" Beth stated, "he's a monster."
"Maybe he has no reason to keep on killing" Amanda spoke, "maybe he or she killed for love".
Maurizo came and served some food on the table.
"Hey, Maury. Would you kill for love?" Amanda asked him, playfully.
Maurizo, taken by surprise, frowned slightly and spoke with that voice he used when he's really serious.
"I think I would."
I couldn't agree with him. A man should have enough integrity to separate himself from the rest of the animals. Nobody had right to terminate someone's life , not even in self defense. Not even for love. I was resolute about that.
—0—
We still had to check the reason why the security camera was off the day of the murder and it was about time we extended our field research towards the security office. I didn't want to involve Antonio and I was glad that Amanda knew one of the guys and he let us in. But he wasn't of much help.
"I'm telling you we have no idea what happened. The police checked the camera and it was okay."
"Could we talk with the person in charge of the surveillance system?"
"We don't have anybody, yet. The last replacement left a couple of days ago. His name was Timothy. The seat is empty. Nobody really wants it. It's cursed, that's what we say."
My eyes caught a document on the top of the counter.
"What's that for?"
"That's the dispatch form for the surveillance tapes."
"Can I?" I studied the document, specially the Mode section and Mr. Hartley's office. The police department investigation officers' names were all over it. I flipped a few pages down to check older dates and my eyes caught a familiar name.
Marc st. James.
We made him confess appealing to the promise of complete sincerity he made when we let him join us again. He admitted he'd been taking out certain recordings for Wilhelmina.
"Did she destroy them?"
"No. She kept hem on the secret security box in her office."
"The offices have secret security boxes?!" I asked while my mind worked on something.
"Only Willy, Daniel and Matt Hartley have them at Mode" said Marc. "I know where you're coming from, Sherlock, but the police already knew. And they revised everything from inside each of them the day of the murder."
"So they have the tapes" Beth asked and Marc nodded.
"Why were you hiding them? What was in them?"
"It had nothing to deal with the murder, if that's what you're all thinking. It was… They had special footage that Willy didn't feel like wanting to make public."
"Speak clearly!" Beth ordered.
"Okay! She was using his office for some … mmm… private meetings?"
Beth and I looked at each other. Her face was turning red in anger.
"But, why would Wilhelmina use Mr. Hartley's office when she always had the sex room?"
"Amanda, can't you see?" Beth said. "Wilhelmina Slater was having an affair with my uncle."
—0—
"Betty was right. It's always been her" Beth said resting her head against the counter "I can't believe this."
Marc stepped forward.
"So what? Mr. Hartley always had a reputation."
"What do you know? Isn't it obvious? She had him all this time on her hands. She used him to her will. My uncle trusted her but she wanted more—"
A phone rang in the room, interrupting her.
"Beth, we really know nothing" I said but she shoved me away.
"Miss Leigh, you're urgently requested at your desk" said the surveillance officer.
"Who calls? I'm kind of busy now."
"Mr. Hartley, personally, miss."
Beth had to answer her cousin's call and went up. While the rest of the Detective Squad left to their working stations it occurred to me that Betty could give us a hand using her connections. Also, she hadn't been able to go down and meet us today and I felt like paying her a little visit. But right after I made sure Beth was alright.
The air inside Mode was lighter and the confidence seemed to have returned to its walls and its people, at least. The cameras kept flashing, the spaghetti models and the racks kept strolling on the corridors, and nothing resembled the earlier chaos they've been through.
Just as I let my guard down, I spotted Wilhelmina Slater walking my way.
I quickly realized I wasn't going to avoid her encounter. I cursed and tried to hide in the nearest racket of designer's coats.
I worked hard to distinguish her loud steps between the chatter and noises of the office. When I couldn't hear them anymore, I stepped out of my hiding and brushed the mountain of animal fur out of me. When I finally looked up, I found myself in front of her, standing tall right before my eyes.
"Please, don't underestimate me. I can smell the stench of synthetic leather in that jacket a mile away."
That was totally uncalled for.
"There's no reason to be afraid of me, boy" she said. "I know what you're playing with my assistant, and I don't care. I already found what I was looking for. So, I was going to give this to Marc, but that slacker is nowhere to be found, probably playing Pink Panther with Nancy Drew. Why don't you give it to him personally?"
She placed a little folder in the nearest desk.
"What's that?" I asked with caution.
"The report I once requested from the elevator and camera malfunction. I have no use for it now."
"But you said nothing was wrong with it. That it was an accident."
"I know what I said" she spoke with that voice of her that gave me chills. "But do you want to know what I didn't say?"
I gave a quick read to the report. They found a little exploding device that caused the cables to snap. That must have caused the sound we heard when we were trapped inside the lift.
"Someone reprogrammed the camera and tampered with the brake system!"
"Well, well, you can read."
"Why this wasn't given to the police. Why—?"
"The police does what we tell them to do. Take your little police friend, for example. He's been very helpful so it's okay to let him slip information to you. He's okay as long as I say he's okay. Just remember, I'm not getting on your way as long as you don't get in mine."
"Is this a bribe or a warning?"
"Take it however you like. I'm just having fun with this, that's all."
Fun. Just like Amanda had said. I took the file with me and I hadn't reached my destination when a couple of Modies walked fast towards me as if avoiding something. I was soon to know the cause of it.
"The only think I've ever asked you to do!" Matt Hartley roared.
"I—I've been trying to talk to you about this" her cousin was pledging when she noticed my presence, standing just a few steps away. She looked at me for a second and then said to Matt with a steady voice "You never gave me the chance."
"You're useless!" he was so mad he didn't care for my presence. "What am I going to do now?"
"You?! You?!" She turned into a rage. "How about me? Bastard!"
"No, you bastard!" He threw a look at her a smirk appeared in his features. "Who do you think you are? You have nothing, nothing! I have everything to lose."
"How can you say that? After what—"
"It's gone! Dead! Years ago!" He motioned closer to her and pulled her by the arm. "You're obsessed! I'm warning you! Stay away from me. Stay away from Betty."
I reacted accordingly.
"You stay away from her!"
He pushed me away.
"What the— You. Who the hell are you? You have no idea what you're messing with. Get out of here!"
"Well, one thing I know. I do what I want when I want to and I'm not going nowhere."
"Wait. I recognize you. So," he smirked. "you want this bitch?"
He threw Beth to my feet.
"Take her! She's worthless."
Those words. Just like the ones written in Beth's threatening letters.
How much I hated that man!
I aimed to his face but he dodged my punch, hit me in the stomach and sent me rolling against a wall. I stood up hastily and ran towards him. We both crashed into Beth's desk, breaking everything in our way. He slightly pulled me away, trying to escape. I saw him exposed wide open in front of me, so I quickly took that chance.
That second time I didn't miss the target, I broke his nose point blank with my fist. I kept hitting him over and over in an uncontrolled frenzy. And I would lie if I say I didn't enjoy it, every punch sweeter than the next; his cry for help, music to my ears that did nothing else but fuel the fire inside of me, a burning hunger that craved madly for his blood.
By the time Security brought us apart I had him on the floor begging for me to stop.
It was then when I caught Beth's eyes and snapped out of my trance. My hands were tainted in red. I panicked.
"Beth!" I asked as if she had all the answers, as if she could explain what had just happened inside of me. "What have I done?"
"It's okay" I read from her lips while the officers dragged me out. "You're not a killer."
Her words calmed me down and, even though I was still lost amidst confusion, probably that's all I needed to hear.
I guess I wasn't surprised they sent me to the first floor's isolation room. What I wasn't really expecting was Betty Suarez.
Her features were dressed with worry when she entered the room and she was carrying some ice with her. She was dressed like she usually did and on her sleeve she had a 'Hello Kitty' silver brooch. The childish contrast of it with her facial expression would have been enough to make me smile in another circumstances but I was almost certain it was another memento from Jenny Vitelly. So it put me down, that and the big diamond on her finger.
As much as I liked seen her, her presence filled me with nothing but grief.
But she looked really sorry and she apologized to me because she couldn't find a way to help me this time.
"You're helping me enough just now" I answered as I let her put my severed hand into the ice bucket.
"Gio, oh, Gio. What did you do this time to make Matt hit you?"
Same old Betty, she always believed I was the one at fault.
"Well, you know me. Can't help myself, can I?" I said, automatically. "And neither can you, dating the nearest scumbag on the list."
She didn't even protest. She just stood there, silently massaging my hand. I was about to apologize when the door opened and Antonio entered the room. He looked a bit embarrassed to be interrupting. But I also knew he was relieved to let me go. He explained us that someone from the big bosses talked my way out claiming that it had been nothing but a misunderstanding.
"Overruling Matt? That can only be Daniel" Betty muttered. "But I thought he was out of town today."
I was pretty sure that Beth moved Heaven an Earth to track him down and convince him to speak on my behalf.
"I guess I'll return back to my office."
I stopped her.
"Betty, wait. We need your help. Antonio, could you give us a minute?"
He left us alone.
I told her that we needed someone with influence to find out who had fired the security officer.
"I don't think this is a good idea. This is going too far, Gio. Look at you now. One of us is going to get seriously hurt."
"If you really want to get to the bottom of it you must help us in all you can. I know you can do it. You're Betty, come on. You can get everything you want" I said sincerely "when you're willing to take it."
I looked into her brown eyes and she looked into mine. I could swear she was slowly leaning closer to me when the door opened and, once again, the moment was lost.
—0—
Betty had a few friends in the Human Resources Department she'd met long ago and she convinced one of them to meet us at the archive room. So she helped me slither through the office carefull that people didn't notice my presence. I was also glad that the news of my little encounter with Matt didn't put a price on my head.
"Beth are you sure you're feeling okay?" I asked when I finally met her. I was glad she decided to join us too. At least I could keep an eye on her.
Beth ignored my concerns and walked away from me towards a corner of the room. After a while she picked a picture from one of the piles of documents "Who's that woman? She looks awfully familiar."
Somehow I found that face familiar too.
"I've never seen her before. I don't think she's worked at Mode."
"You're right, Betty" said the archivist picking the picture. "Those are candidate files. We just keep their CVs for future reference."
She took the files from Beth's hand and locked it in the corresponding section.
"Please don't touch anything. I could get fired for this."
After several more minutes of browsing through papers we could barely find that Timothy Jackson was the last person hired for the position but he only stayed for less than three days in the job.
"How about the one before him?" I asked. "When did you say he was fired?"
"Let me see... M. E. Torres. Want me to check him up for you?" She opened another file but I was already fearing what she was about to say. "He's the one they've been trying to replace, model employee, being with us for more than three years. He got fired just twenty days ago for no apparent reason."
Twenty days ago! That couldn't be just a coincidence.
"Can I see the picture?" I requested.
"Sure, here's the file: Manuel Eduardo Torres."
My heart stopped for a second when I finally recognized the face. My old friend from Queens: Manolo Torres.
"Did you know him?" Beth came to my side.
"Who's him?" Betty asked and saw me browsing through the file. "What does he relate with this whole case? Let me see."
"Shush!" I commanded her while I took the file back and read the section of his responsibilities. "I need concentration."
"No, you shush" she said and hit my arm, teasingly, but I ignored her. I read the file while Beth and Betty both peeked over my shoulders, one at each side. "It says here he was also responsible for the maintenance of the elevators?"
Beth and I looked at each other.
"Who fired him?" she asked eagerly, feeling my excitement. We were finally on a lead.
"This is weird. It seems we didn't follow regular procedure. The order to terminate the contract came from above without further explanation. Just an email. Here it is." She handled us a printed copy. "The email was sent by Daniel Meade".
There was no mistake about it. Manolo Torres had been the one in charge with the surveillance cameras and the elevator ten days before the murder happened, right before his own suicide.
And he had a connection with Daniel Meade.
To be continued
