“Your statement says you were at the doctor’s about the time of the killing.”
The landlord nodded. “Near as I can tell. I have to see Doc Soloman twice a week for a phlebotomy. I stopped by here after the doctor’s and found this mess.”
“We’ve identified the other man through his DNA. We keep a file on convicted felons now. His name is Gutman, Samuel Gutman. Do you know him?”
Palmeto shook his head. “A lot of these people I know by sight, but the name means nothing to me.” He shifted his large frame as if trying to get comfortable in his leather jacket. “What was his felony?”
“He stole a large quantity of prescription drugs five years ago from a nursing home where he worked. He served fifteen months and was on probation for a year. Right now he’s missing from his apartment, and I expect we’ll find his body sooner or later.”
After Palmeto and the detective left, the Techno-Bio crew finished the cleanup. They were in the final phase, checking out the bathroom, when Will peered beneath the old claw-foot tub and spotted something the police had missed. It was a little black address book leaning against the black tile that circled the bottom of the wall. He wasn’t surprised that they’d missed it, if they even bothered to look beneath the tub.
The wisest thing would have been to turn the address book over to Sergeant Rafferty or Santos. But he might not see Rafferty again for a month or more, and Santos would only kid him about being Dick Tracy. He slipped it into his pocket and said nothing. Later, at his apartment, he opened it and glanced through the names and addresses. Apparently it had belonged to Hashid, the man who’d rented the loft and died there. Will flipped to the G page and found several crossed-out addresses and phone numbers for Samuel Gutman, the man who was missing. The only number not crossed out was marked “cell.” He took a chance and punched in the number on his own cell phone. He heard a blast of music he vaguely recognized, plus the sound of male and female voices. “What’s up?” a man’s voice asked.
“Is this Gutman?” Will asked.
The voice didn’t answer, and after a few seconds the connection was broken. To Will’s ear, the music sounded like a jazz combo called the Lucky Spots who played at an East Side club named Schuster’s.
SADIE WAS OFF with some girlfriends that night, and he decided there was no harm in checking Schuster’s. He occasionally dropped in there anyway, and there was a good chance he could spot the man with Gutman’s cell phone. Before he left the apartment, he pocketed the police auxiliary badge that he’d failed to turn in. Maybe it would come in handy, and if he held his thumb over the word “Auxiliary,” it looked fairly authentic.
Schuster’s was always crowded on a Friday evening, when young (and not so young) singles were drawn there from the nearby office buildings. Will could hear the jazzy sounds of the Lucky Spots before he was through the door, and he was certain that that was the music he’d heard on the cell phone. The bar was crowded, three-deep in some spots, with every table taken. He managed to get close enough to order a beer, glancing around for someone he knew. Finally he stood against one wall, out of the flow of traffic, and tried to spot the man he sought. It occurred to Will that the man might have departed in the time it took for him to get there. He reached into his pocket for the cell phone and entered six of the seven numbers on Gutman’s phone. Then he made his way into the thick of the crowd, about halfway to the bandstand. Moving between the booths and the tables, he pressed the final number on his cell phone.
Even with the noise, he heard it ring, about ten feet behind him in one of the booths. He casually turned in that direction, leaving the phone in his pocket. A young woman with a reddish-brown ponytail held the phone to her ear and tried to get a response. “Hello? Is anyone there?” Finally she muttered something he couldn’t catch and returned the phone to her purse. She was seated with two men, but neither of them had claimed the cell phone. Still, it was a man who had answered earlier.
After another twenty minutes, the men finished their beers and stood up to leave. Will feared that she might leave with them, but she didn’t. One, a balding man quite a bit older than she, said, “Good night, Glenda.”
She remained alone in the booth, and Will walked over. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, holding up his beer. “There are no free tables.”
“All right,” she replied, barely glancing in his direction. Instead she took a cigarette from her purse and started to light it.
He slid into the booth. “There’s no smoking here,” he reminded her.
She looked up and studied his face, her eyes just a bit blurry from drink. “What are you, a cop?”
“That’s right.” He showed her the badge, carefully covering the “Auxiliary” part.
“Christ, I sure get all the winners! Am I under arrest?”
“Not as long as you don’t light that cigarette.”
She squinted at him. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”
“Business at the moment. You’re Glenda, right?”
“That’s me.”
“Got a last name? I’m Will Blackstone.”
“Glenda Briggs. What do you want, Will Blackstone?”
He shifted in the booth, thinking she’d have a nice smile if it wasn’t for a chipped tooth on the right side. “I’m looking for Samuel Gutman. I think you know him.”
She shook her head. “Never heard of him.”
“You have his cell phone in your purse.”
Her eyes widened with something like fear. “I don’t – ”
“Just tell me the truth, and nothing will happen to you.”
She considered the possibilities. Finally she said, “A man I was drinking with earlier gave it to me. It rang while he had it and he answered, but then he hung up and gave me the phone. He said I could make calls with it but couldn’t receive any.”
“What’s his name?”
“Gus something. I don’t know his last name.”
“You’re sure it was Gus and not Gut, short for Gutman?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“What did he look like?”
“Ordinary-looking, nothing special.”
Will was suddenly aware that he had no idea what the dead or missing Samuel Gutman looked like. “Where can I reach you if I have more questions?”
“I can give you this cell phone number.”
“I already have that,” he said. “How about your home phone?”
“I… I’m staying with someone right now. You couldn’t call me there.”
“Can I meet you here tomorrow night? Around seven?”
“I guess so,” she conceded.
“Good. I’ll be looking for you, Glenda. Don’t let me down.”
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Sadie appeared at his place before ten o’clock, as she often did on weekends. They’d been a couple for nearly a year, and he knew she was good for him. But this Saturday, he saw at once that something was wrong. Her usual sunny face was clouded over, and she didn’t even have a morning kiss for him. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
She brushed the dark hair back from her eyes. “Will, one of my girlfriends called to say she saw you in Schuster’s last night with another woman.”
Talk about his Friday night luck! Now he’d have to tell her everything. “It’s just a misunderstanding. I didn’t even know the girl. I was just questioning her.”
“About what? How much she charges?”
“My God, what do you think I am? Don’t you trust me by now? I was questioning her about a murder.”
“You do detective work for Techno-Bio now?”
“No, it’s… Look, when I quit the police auxiliary, I never turned in my badge. I still have it. I’ve been following up on a supposed double murder.”