What forms beyond clouds? Part 2

The law firm of 'Garbles, Brooks and Hems' lay situated near the top floor in a stylish building complex with the lower floors housing various corporate businesses. The elevator ride gave Amy Sykes a headache and queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Or maybe the queasy feeling, and headache, had more to do with all the donuts she had eaten this morning threatening to make their way up.

The elevator doors opened up to a reception area with floors and pillars being a blend of sleek mahogany and cold metal. The reception desk was a large dark wooden construction, solid and cold to touch, with an all too pretty receptionist sitting behind it smiling broadly. Large windows displayed a view of the city that Amy could only admire with a snip of jealousy.

Amy looked sideways at her companion and suppressed a smile; Provenza looked far from amazed at the architecture.

He approached the desk with a sloughing stride that, against all odds, seemed purposeful. The receptionist started to welcome them but before she could say more than two words, Provenza interrupted her. He sent her off to look for one of the law firms' partners after displaying his badge. While they waited, the old man skimmed the brochures displayed on the reception desk. He had his glasses on and the infamous askew white hat made his forehead seem larger than normal.

Amy caught Provenza grumbling under his breath, something about 'load of bullshit.'

"What's the brochure about?" Amy asked curiously as she leaned closer.

"Bullshit," Provenza answered sourly and then sighed, showing Amy the front; it was advertisement for the firm, pretentious promises that no doubt followed an expensive retainer.

Amy grinned.

Going with Provenza on assignments always felt like a field trip to her, and she could always count on the older lieutenant wanting to stop for food on their way back to headquarters. All in all, it felt like a win-win situation when the Captain sent Amy off with Provenza.

John Hems, one of the firms partner's was quick to welcome them. The man, tall and lanky, dressed in a narrow expensive suit, came back with the secretary, smiling just as broadly.

"Detectives," the lawyer greeted them, the high, elated tone of his voice making Amy cringe, "I'm John Hems. What can I do for you?"

"Is there a place where we can talk in confidence?" Amy forcibly smiled, putting her expression into a welcoming countenance.

"Certainly, certainly," Hems said and then swept his arm back in the direction he had come from. "Let's talk in one of our conference rooms."

Amy and Provenza followed Hems.

The lawyer turned his torso around, his smile once again broadening, "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water?"

"No thank you," Amy smiled, watching Provenza roll his eyes.

"How about some tea? We have a vast assortment of blends – from one of our overseas contributors?"

Before Amy could say no, the lawyer started listing off the blends;

"Lemon and ginger green tea? White tea with a touch of mulberry and papaya? How about some delicious Green Donghzhai Needle tea? Hmm, oh, I know it; we just got in a very special blend from Asia; a Top Sikkim Himalayan tea."

"I'm not much of a tea drinker, Mr Hems," Provenza interrupted the man.

The force of Amy's smile was beginning to weaken. You would have thought that comment from Provenza would have shot the man down but no. He continued while he held the door into the conference room open for the both of them to pass.

"Hear, hear," Hems smiled, "Though, I'm sure I can tempt you with a cold glass of Birchwood water?"

"No thank you, Mr. Hems," Amy told him again, mindful of the small impatient furrow that appeared between Provenza's eyebrows. "We're just fine. Now, how about you sit down and we can have a talk."

The man made a motion as if he wanted to walk out of the room but then with another cheerful smile, he sat down. Amy and Provenza sat down across from him.

The large conference room displayed windows that ran ceiling to floor and overlooked downtown Los Angeles.

Amy gave the lawyer a scrutinizing look. The man was crisply dressed in grey tones and behind big black spectacles were sharp eyes that darted from Provenza to her with a frequency that seemed to suggest that the man knew something was amiss. In any case, Amy felt the lawyer was trying to stall the best he knew how.

"Are you sure you don't want something to drink? Not even an espresso? – or maybe you want a -,"

"How well do you know Martin Brooks?" Provenza asked in a hard tone, cutting off the lawyer's continuous offers of drinks.

"Well – I mean, how well do you really know anyone?" Hems answered vaguely with a faked smile, "Do we really know anyone well? – besides ourselves, if even that?"

Amy saw Provenza roll his eyes at the philosophic evasion.

"I mean, the man has gone off without telling me anything about it," Hems clarified, "We had a meeting scheduled yesterday, you know. I called his wife, and she says he's missing. I say he's gone off on one of his usual trips. I assume that's why you're here? The wife reported Martin missing, right?"

"Usual trips?" Amy asked, curious.

"Oh," Hems waved a hand dismissively, "Sometimes Martin likes to go on impromptu vacation trips, dumping all of his work on me, or someone else who has not been with the firm long enough."

"When did you last see Mr. Brooks then?" Amy asked.

Hems looked at her and Amy had to suppress a disgusted sigh at the obligatory once-over the lawyer subjected her to once again. There was no mistaking where the man's eyes lingered longer.

Hems answered with a sleek smile, "That would be last Wednesday. The 18th of March. We have an annual seminar in medio March we host for a couple of corporations, on general law and such, and it usually goes from Monday to Wednesday."

"Did the seminar go as planned?" Amy tried to get the man to clarify.

"Oh, it went smoothly. Martin is a great planner and speaker. After the finishing lectures on Wednesday, a couple of us went to a nearby local wine bar. A fine establishment on fifth; Preciado, or something similar as I recall. Martin went with the rest of us, but halfway through ordering drinks, he got an important call from an old friend. I presume he went to meet up with this friend as he left after the phone call."

"When was this?"

Hems shrugged, "Around nine pm, or ten maybe."

"Do you know who this old friend was? Or where they met up?"

Hems shook his head, a smile on his lips that seemed perverted to Amy, "Martin and I don't socialize much outside work. All I know is that he left with a promise to buy the first round the next time."

Amy raised an eyebrow at Provenza as they shared a look; what a load of bullshit. The man was lying straight through his teeth. If they didn't socialize much, then why the heck had they gone out for drinks after the seminar had ended? That, and there was something about the sleek, polished smile constantly on the lawyer's face Amy disagreed with. Smug, that was it. The man was all too smug.

Provenza sighed in a drawn out breath and then fastened a narrowed glare on Hems, "Okay, you don't socialize with your partner. But what about Brooks' marriage? He and the wife get along? Surely you must know something about the man you work with on a daily basis?"

Hems shrugged, "Oh, you know, the usual that goes on with the wife. I got the impression Martin found his wife a bit boring if not bleak. He never talked much about her. But they seemed to get on well from what I've seen at company functions."

"Does he have affairs?" Amy asked, she tilted her head and made her voice sweeter.

Hems smiled, his bleached teeth were too white, "Martin saw a couple of girls now and then."

"Girls? As in what, prostitutes?" Provenza grumbled, his arms crossed and his lips curled in disdain.

"Oh, nothing like that," Hems waved a hand dismissively, "Martin likes to find dates on the internet. He showed me a couple of profiles a while back, just for the fun of it."

"What web sites does he frequent?" Amy leaned in across the table, her elbows on the table and a fake inviting smile plastered on.

"I can't remember," Hems replied with a lukewarm grin.

"What about Brooks' recent cases? Anything out of the ordinary happened? Like threats or angry phone calls?"

Hems shook his head, "Not that I know of. He won a lot of cases recently which gave a lot of good press for us. So things are looking up for the firm."

"Any cases of particular interest?" Amy asked.

Hems shrugged, "I don't know what would be of particular interest to the police."

"Did he lose a case after which a client became angry?"

Hems shook his head, "No, as I said, he won a lot of his recent cases."

Amy placed the picture of the first John Doe, a close up of the face, on the table. It was clear the person was dead but the features were still distinguishable.

She shoved the picture over to Hems, "Have you ever seen this person before?"

Hems looked closer at the picture and then he paled visibly. He nodded, and with a slightly trembling voice, he responded, "That's – oh, I can't remember his last name, but it's Bill! I'll have to find his last name in our records. But it's Bill! Martin defended him in court a couple of months back… they are old high school buddies, I think. Oh my god – is he dead? Is Martin dead? Is that why you're here?"

Amy sighed.

Even if the lawyer was something of a sleek snail, giving a notification required a lot of sympathy and forethought. They might have revealed that Martin Brooks was dead but at the least they now had an identity for their other victim.

"I am very sorry we have to tell you this," Amy started, holding a long pause, watching Hems take it in. He sat back in the chair, a hand to his temple and he visibly swallowed.

"We found the body of your law firm partner this weekend. We're investigating his death as suspicious," Provenza supplied.

After close to a quarter of an hour spent calming Hems down and making sure the lawyer knew he was given the notification in confidence, Hems went out and found the records for Martin Brooks' old school friend.

On the way back to headquarters, Amy drove the cruiser through traffic at a fast pace, her mind turning over the facts so far and the name they now had for John Doe One. Bill Lawrence. They would have to confirm the ID, naturally, but still, it was progress.

"What do you say, we get some lunch?" the older lieutenant offered from the passenger side, true to form.

Amy smiled to herself as she took a quick swerve that had the old man blinking, "Sounds neat, sir."

"Do you have to drive like a raging lunatic trying to escape a mental ward?" Provenza grumbled, but Amy knew there was no bite in the comment. It was simply the routine commentary the older man needed to point out every time Amy drove him anywhere.

"Sanchez likes my driving," Amy said with a playful smile.

"Of course he does," Provenza sighed, "he is also a raging lunatic."

Amy smiled to herself but slowed down for the lieutenant's sake. On the next swerve, Amy slowed even further down and added a pointed look sideways, "Is that better, lieutenant?"

Provenza rolled his eyes, "Don't mock your seniors, Sykes."

After a pause, Provenza spoke again;

"So – what'da ya want?"

"Burger and fries," Amy supplied, "And a milkshake."

"Geesh."

…