Intimate Relations: A Finn O'Brien Crime Thriller Page 12

  "Come, come. Ali is expecting you."

  Vida Keyes shooed the children ahead, and Finn heard them squeal as they went back to their play. Vida stood back and let him go into the apartment before her, all the while keeping up a pleasant conversation.

  "I'm afraid our children have learned how to read the lights on our security system. They know when the elevator is coming and rush out before I can stop them."

  "Then I hope 'tis only friends coming to your door," Finn said.

  "I believe so," she answered. "Won't you have something to drink?"

  "Thank you, no," he said.

  "I hope you don't mind if I leave you, but I am busy with the children. It was lovely to meet you."

  With that she was gone to do what rich, happy mothers do with their children. Finn looked after her for a moment, and then checked out his surroundings. Everything in the living room was expensive, but the errant toy under the sofa, the candid family pictures, the way the furniture was set close enough to have a real conversation made it homey. Finn walked to the sliding glass doors. There was a balcony outside that was as large as a patio, and the view was spectacular. Finn was not one to lust after person or thing, but he would be happy to have a view such as this.

  "It's awesome, isn't it?" Finn turned to find Ali Keyes behind him. "Hope I didn't scare you. Sometimes I get so lost in that view I'm startled when someone talks to me."

  "I'm not easily surprised, but thank you for asking."

  "I suppose in your line of work that could be detrimental." Ali swept his hand toward the furniture, inviting Finn to sit where he pleased. "Did Vida offer you something to drink?"

  "She did," Finn said. "I'm good. I've only a few questions for you about the event you held at The Brewery."

  Ali's head went up and down. Both men turned their backs on the view. Ali Keyes sat in an overstuffed chair, Finn on the edge of the couch. The man was as comfortable in his skin as his wife was in hers. He was narrow, his body lithe, his face long, but his good nature was full blown. There was no artifice in Ali Keyes, he seemed to be an open book. He was thirty-five, perhaps. Young and rich. A father. A happy husband. Yet his business led Finn to believe there was some flaw in this perfect picture.

  "I've been advised of the problem the other night," Ali said. "I was sorry to hear about what happened. Asylum gatherings are carefully curated as are our members. But this was not a true Asylum event. We were only asked to coordinate the venue and extend invitations to a limited guest list."

  "So I understand," Finn said. "But the party was exclusively Asylum members and I'd like to confirm my understanding. You vet the women, but the men are welcome as long as they pay a fee. Is that correct?"

  "Yes."

  "So do you vet the gentleman?" Finn asked.

  "Our membership paperwork requests full disclosure, yes," Ali said. There was no guile here for which Finn was grateful. "Many of our members lead very public lives so this is a formality because we are already aware of who they are. But there is a lot of private money, old money, in the hands of people who do not leave a public footprint. Sometimes our members are foreigners. Those people we look at a little more closely. If there is a hint of anything untoward in their background, they are refused membership."

  "And Cami?"

  "Cami." Ali sat back. He smiled and shook his head. "She came highly recommended."

  "By whom?"

  "By one of our members who has not been active for sometime. Sadly, she really wasn't appropriate for our group. I assure you, she was not invited to the event at The Brewery. I further assure you that none of the invited guests had anything to do with harming her."

  "I appreciate that, but I am in charge of a murder investigation and I must ask."

  "And I'm afraid I can be of little help," Ali said.

  The man's teeth were brilliantly white when he smiled. His black hair fell over his brow making him look almost boyish. Finn was not fooled. No boy came to live as Ali Keyes did without risk taking and experience.

  "I am only asking for two things. The information you have on the woman, Cami, and the name of the person who hosted the party."

  This time Ali Keyes's smile was not wide and bright. It faded a bit as if he felt bad knowing he was going to disappoint Finn. Before he could, Vida Keyes appeared.

  "Is there anything I can get you?" she asked. When her husband said no, she disappeared again.

  "Your wife is very gracious," Finn said.

  "She is. She is also beautiful, educated, and wise," Ali said. "Ours was an arranged marriage, detective. Old fashioned, I know, but I count myself a lucky man."

  "With good reason," Finn said.

  "Thank you." Ali sat back in his chair. He crossed one foot on his knee, rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers together in front of him. "The beauty of an arranged marriage is twofold. First, those arranging the union have both parties best interests at heart. Vida's family and mine wanted us to be happy. Our families knew us best, and so we were married. Both of us are very respectful of family and tradition.

  "And the second beauty of such an arrangement is the thrill of discovery. I learn something new about my wife every day. Hopefully, she is delighted with what she learns about me too."

  "I've a feeling this is leading somewhere, Mr. Keyes," Finn said.

  "It is." He uncrossed his legs, he dropped his hands. "I do not wish to interfere with a murder investigation. I am sorry about what happened to Cami, but I also have a responsibility to my members and the women who come to Asylum gatherings. Like my family arranging the perfect marriage, I have the best interests of my clients at heart. I want them to be safe, happy, and anonymous. Therefore, I cannot give you these names. I will if I am compelled by law, but at this moment I am not.

  "You see, detective, Asylum is not my only business. I have many thriving concerns. Asylum is one that is a bit more unusual, but I take it no less seriously than my other businesses. Asylum is meant to give people the thrill of discovery, to bring fantasy into lives that are so successful they also become predictable. Please forgive me, but if you wish to depose me, call my lawyers."

  "Then I suppose there is nothing more to be said, sir."

  Finn rose. Ali Keyes did the same.

  "I am sorry, detective. I do wish you the best of luck. I am not sorry that Cami will no longer be a problem. I am only sorry the way in which the problem was taken care of," Ali said. "I will call my lawyers and ask if I might divulge the name of the company that acted on behalf of the man who arranged the party. That is the best I can do."

  "I appreciate it," Finn said.

  The men walked slowly out of the penthouse and toward the elevator. Before they got there, Finn paused.

  "Why were you not at The Brewery if it was an important event."

  "Because I am not important enough, I suppose. I was not invited," Ali said. "Also, Asylum is not something I find interesting. I'm delighted others do, but I would rather be home with my family."

  "And is that where you were when Cami was killed?"

  "Yes. My wife and children can vouch for that. We have a live-in maid. Feel free to ask her anything you like She will be truthful. There is also a doorman twenty-four hours. The night man is Richard. He will be happy to assist. There are also cameras throughout the building."

  "I had to ask."

  "Of course. I would do the same." Ali was about to push the button to call the elevator when he took a moment. "If I might ask, detective, how did Cami die? Haven't you a weapon to get fingerprints or some such thing? Something that points to the person who did this? There were only four of our members there that night."

  "She was bludgeoned. Her face," Finn said. "And, no, we have no leads but we've only just begun our investigation."

  "That's a bit of poetic justice," Ali said. "Cami did love her face—both of them."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Nothing, really. Only that like many people she had a public face an
d a private one."

  "Are you speaking from personal experience?" Finn asked.

  "Detective, please."

  With that, Ali Keyes laughed and pressed the elevator button. The doors had not yet closed when he turned around and went back to his perfect home, his perfect family, and his perfectly clear conscience. Finn doubted he would give one more minute's thought to Cami or her death. This was not malicious. It was simply business.

  14

  "...So, I say to him. No, your honor, Lapinski with an 'i'. And the judge says, 'oh, well and good'. I mean that judge was going to hold me in contempt for mouthing off the last time I was in front of him, but when he brings it up I tell him it wasn't me. I say 'it was another Lapinsky with a 'y', and, with all due respect, your honor, you can't hold me in contempt for something another Lapinski did'. That was that. No contempt."

  "So all's well that ends well, Thomas," Finn said.

  "Except it wasn't another Lapinski," Thomas laughed. "It was this case. It was a quick pleading, but it was me and I did get a little unruly. But, Finn, if it's that easy to confuse that judge then he shouldn't be on the bench. I'm telling you, we are not looking at the best and the brightest these days when it comes to the guys who wear the robes. Besides, he couldn't rule on anything except the matter at hand even if it was the same case. He was in a snit about old news."

  "And how was this matter at hand resolved then?" Finn asked.

  Lapinski raised his shoulders. He inclined his head, and his expression left no doubt that he had triumphed mightily. Thomas Lapinski, though, could not resist adding editorial.

  "It wasn't even a contest," he said. "I did a little bit of black magic, and a lot of digging. Guess what? The air-bag manufacturer didn't send out the software update when they said they did. That meant the car's warning system wasn't updated. It was completely flawed at the time of the accident. My client will be well taken care of for the rest of her life."

  "And you're going to be so rich that you'll be buying a new boat when you get the other one wet," Cori said as she joined them.

  Lapinski stood. Cori waved him down. She was not unaware of his affection for her, but she wasn't about to cut him any slack until she was sure a relationship would be good for both of them. Still, she felt something for Thomas Lapinski. He was the unlikely third leg in Finn and Cori's friendship stool, and their secret weapon. A while back Lapinski burst into Finn's office at Wilshire Division and tried to convince both detectives to sue the department for injuries suffered in a freeway pile up. They had declined the offer, but Lapinski's knowledge of tech, his unflagging optimism, and his curiosity about everything made him the kind of genius whose help they welcomed now and again. Not to mention, Cori found his admiration kind of nice. Lapinski was funny and kind and it had been a long time since she had an ardent suitor.

  "You look like you'll be needing a drink, Cori," Finn said.

  "Good grief. I thought a hot shower would put me in order." She looked at Thomas. "What do you say? do we have time for a drink, or are we headed to dinner?"

  "At your disposal," he said. "And now that you know I'm a man of means after that settlement, you get to choose where we eat."

  Finn went to the kitchen for the drinks. Cori settled on the couch next to Thomas.

  "I'll take Maria's," she said. "After the day I've had I need a wagon load of carbs."

  Finn came out of the kitchen, handed them each a beer, and took the chair opposite the couch. Finn rested ankle over his knee, enjoying the company, knowing it would soon be quiet in his apartment when Cori moved home the next day.

  "Great, we'll save The Four Seasons for another time," Lapinski said. "So what have you two been doing that's got you running?"

  Finn and Cori took turns filling him in on The Brewery mess. In the process, they shared information with one another since they had seen little of one another. As usual, Lapinski found it all beyond fascinating.

  "So you're thinking a crime of passion?" The lawyer said.

  "I haven't the faintest idea." Finn took a long drink of his beer. "The economic structure of The Brewery is something that's niggling at my brain. The bloody man and his wife are a mystery. If it were me, and there was a dead body in my upstairs, I'd be working overtime to help the police just so they would leave me alone. Those two are clamshells, and we can't pry them open."

  "They're smart," Lapinski said. "Most people blow it by talking too much. I predict the next time you see them, they'll be lawyered up."

  "They're Albanian," Cori said.

  The men looked at her, waiting for more. Cori shook her head as if to say her comment should be self-explanatory.

  "Didn't you ever see that movie Taken? Albanians are always the bad guys," she said. "I say we assume they did it."

  "Now that's what I call excellent police work." Lapinski chuckled.

  "Well thank you, honey pie." Cori pulled on her Texas drawl, teasing Thomas before she became serious. "The Cucas have permanent residency, but that doesn't mean much if you get on the wrong side of the law. Think about it. We talked for hours and the only thing we know for sure is that they want to stay in the U.S., the husband is talented, and the wife is the brains behind the business."

  "And," Finn cut in, "if, as Bev says, our victim was a troublemaker, and she was messing with any of that, there is your motive. But we saw the man. The only thing out of place was the blood on his shirt. His explanation for it was plausible. "

  "It's not like there would be much else to see," Cori said. "Paul said this was a straight out, wham, bam, thank you ma'am, you're dead."

  "There's even something more worrisome in my head," Finn said. "The woman in the window. We've statements from the neighbors. There was a woman in their upstairs, more than once, staying long enough to draw attention, and yet they deny knowing her."

  "But we don't know if it was our victim," Cori said.

  "When we have an I.D. we'll revisit and show our witnesses. Mitzie and Peter only need a picture, even Ali Keyes will be able to confirm without spilling any secrets. Until then, we'll let the Cucas rest for a day." Finn took a drink of his beer, his brow furrowing. "I still go back to the man, though. He is at the center of this. I feel it in my bones. He had a knife as big as a machete and a huge rage."

  "Then why not use the knife to take the victim out?" Cori said.

  "And why was he ticked to begin with?" Lapinski asked. "If he didn't kill the girl then why draw attention to himself?"

  "Don't you have any nuts, O'Brien?" Cori got up and went to rifle through the cabinets. She called out from the kitchen. "Tell Lapinski what Cuca told us."

  The men listened to Cori wreak havoc on Finn's kitchen for a minute before Finn began again.

  "He said he was distraught when he saw the dead girl and it worsened when he saw one of the Asylum men doing something untoward with the companion downstairs. Whatever happened upstairs, was blamed on downstairs. A woman, a doll," Finn shrugged. "I don't think the man knows the difference between a real woman and one of those things."

  Cori came back in and settled herself on the arm of the sofa. She offered Lapinski the can of nuts. He shook his head.

  "It does bring up an interesting moral question," Thomas said. "If they look as real as you say, if they feel real, then is there some line crossed if you don't treat them like humans? I mean, is it possible to rape a doll? If so, and he hurt a human being in defense of the doll, is that on the same legal footing as defending a real woman?"

  "'Tis above my pay grade, to answer a question like that." Finn took a drink. "As an officer of the law, I cannot make a judgment since he was doing nothing illegal if he owned that thing. I can hold him on drunkenness perhaps. But as a man, I don't understand any of it. It seems to me there must be some sickness in these people."

  "I have a feeling Mr. Cuca felt the same way. The neighbors say he became progressively reclusive as his business grew. Maybe he was ashamed of how he makes his living. He admired the art, but the firs
t time he got an eyeful of what people do with it he freaked out," Cori said.

  "There is a difference, you know. Perception, reality, fantasy."

  Thomas scooted up on the couch, energized by the discussion. He swiped a hand through his hair. He talked so fast Finn and Cori had to hang on his every word for fear of missing one.

  "I've seen it all in my practice. It's amazing how people can work themselves up. When a person is hurt—especially if they were near death— they lie in bed reliving whatever went down. They decide the driver of the car that hit them meant to do it. If an operation doesn't cure them, then the doctor was incompetent or he actually wants them dead for some reason. When they sue and don't get the settlement they think they deserve, then I'm a shyster or criminal. They think I consciously want to ruin their lives. Perception. Fantasy. Reality. All of it is wrapped up into one experience, and all of it gets warped as it tumbles around in a brain."

  Thomas shook his head. He put a hand on Cori's knee, but it was only a gesture of inclusion.

  "Very few people can control their emotions. They can't be objective when their life takes a bad turn. Worse, they can't look at their own failings. I think your Mr. Cuca loved his art but hated what happened once it was out of his hands. All those people abusing something he lovingly created must have pushed him to the brink. It's a low blow."

  "Lapinski, you're one smart shyster," Cori said. She gave his hand a pat, moved it off her leg, and dove in for a handful of nuts.

  Thomas Lapinski beamed at Cori's compliment, and Finn smiled. Pity the man didn't see that his brilliance was only a small inroad to Cori's affection. It would take a patient man to win her over. One mistake in love had turned her into a single mother and a wary woman. Still, Cori's love life was none of his business. Cami's murder was.