Brutality Page 12

  “Are you working with the police?” Vikram asked. He was wearing a white lab coat over a pair of khakis and a plaid button-down shirt.

  “Of course. Lieutenant Pitney and I have spoken about the situation, and I’m in frequent contact with Detective Menendez. I assume they’ve spoken with you.”

  “Yes, and I didn’t have anything of value to share,” Vikram said.

  Fina smiled. “Well, I’m sure they told you that it’s hard to know what’s of value until a lot of information has been gathered.”

  “That’s exactly what they said.”

  “Can you spare a few minutes?” Fina asked.

  Vikram sighed and looked at his watch. “I suppose.”

  “Could you tell me what Liz’s job entailed?” Fina asked.

  “Liz is the administrative manager of the lab.”

  “What does that mean specifically?”

  “She orders equipment, manages the budget, that sort of thing,” Vikram said.

  “And what’s your position?”

  “I’m the scientific director. I oversee all aspects of the lab, including the actual research projects.”

  “What do you study here?” Fina asked.

  Vikram launched into a spiel on pesticides, and Fina filed it under information she really didn’t want to know. That was one of the benefits of a largely processed diet; she rarely worried about the chemicals on her fruits and vegetables.

  “Did Liz have conflicts with any of her colleagues?”

  Vikram shrugged. “When you’re in charge of managing the budget and other resources, it’s not unusual for someone to be unhappy with you.”

  “But there was no one in particular?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “And your relationship with Liz?” she asked.

  “It was professional,” he replied, stony-faced.

  “I assumed as much.” It would be hard to have an intimate relationship with an ice cube, after all. “My understanding is that you had a conflict with Liz.”

  He peered at her. “Where are you getting your information from, Ms. Ludlow?”

  Fina smiled at him. “From a variety of sources. Is it true?”

  “You’ve been misled, I’m afraid,” Vikram said. “You’ll need to leave now. I’m very busy.” He picked up a pen and uncapped it in anticipation of her departure.

  “Thanks very much for your time.”

  Fina started down the hall, knowing that that wasn’t the last she would see of Vikram Mehra. She was passing the grouping of desks when a loud voice echoed after her.

  “Dana, I need to see the latest readings!” Vikram hollered to the young woman who’d directed Fina to his office.

  Dana pushed back her chair and rolled her eyes. Fina smiled in solidarity and made her way to the elevator.

  Downstairs, Fina pulled off her visitor’s badge and swung by the front desk.

  “Louis, you should have warned me that Vikram Mehra has a bug up his ass.”

  For an instant, the hint of a smile crossed the security guard’s face.

  “Gotcha!” she said, and left the building.

  —

  Fina had had her fill of difficult personalities, but the day was not quite done. Tonight was Elaine’s birthday dinner.

  Fina picked up Milloy from an appointment in Back Bay and stopped at a florist on Route 9 to get a large bouquet for her mother—not that she expected her to appreciate it. Elaine went through life keeping score of the things that didn’t measure up. She was perpetually disappointed, and Fina had concluded that this approach gave her some twisted satisfaction. Sometimes, Fina wondered if her mother had been like this as a child. Was Elaine the little girl who never wanted what was for dinner? Whose shoes always pinched? Who always wanted to play with the classmate who didn’t want to be her friend? Or had she been an agreeable child whose personality was ruined by the death of her toddler daughter? Some families might talk about such things, but the Ludlows were not one of those families.

  “Thanks for this,” Fina said to Milloy. “I know it wasn’t what you had in mind when we made dinner plans.”

  “Your mother doesn’t bug me the way she bugs you,” he said.

  “That’s because she likes you.”

  Milloy didn’t argue with the implied suggestion that Elaine didn’t particularly like her own daughter. Fina appreciated that he didn’t sugarcoat things, but that didn’t mean it felt good.

  “I promise, when your parents are in town,” she said, “I’ll return the favor.”

  Milloy’s Chinese mother was anxious for her son to settle down and give her grandchildren. During his parents’ biannual visits, Fina made herself available to play the role of his date. They never expressly said they were dating, but neither did they disabuse Milloy’s mother of the notion that they were a couple. The ruse would only hold up for so long, but in the meantime, it eased the pressure on Milloy.

  Carl and Elaine lived in an enormous house in Chestnut Hill. The stone and shingled manse provided way too much space for two people, but perhaps that was the point. It enabled her parents to be together, separately, which might be why they were still married after all these years. Both had difficult personalities, although Elaine was more trying as far as Fina was concerned. Carl was demanding and controlling, but you knew where you stood with him. Elaine was a master of passive-aggressiveness.

  “Looks like the gang’s all here,” Milloy said as they pulled into the driveway that led to a four-car garage. The area was littered with luxury automobiles. The house was newly built, and the architect must have needed corrective lenses; the windows were too big, especially a circular outcropping of glass that looked like a growth on the front of the house.

  They got out of the car, and Milloy stood for a moment, evaluating the structure.

  “Huh.”

  “Were you hoping it had grown more attractive since your last visit?” she asked.

  Fina steered them to a side door with the hope of sneaking in through the kitchen, perhaps fortifying herself with an adult beverage before facing the birthday girl.

  A maid, decked out in full regalia, shooed them from the kitchen. Fina didn’t recognize her, but that wasn’t surprising; Elaine went through hired help like newborns went through diapers.

  Chatter and laughter floated down the hallway and beckoned them to the media room, a sunken space that overlooked the backyard. The youngest family members were sprawled on one part of the enormous sectional watching the Bruins on the flat-screen TV. There were built-in bookcases and shelves on one wall and a small bar where Matthew and Scotty were deep in conversation. Elaine had some kind of catalog open on the dark wood coffee table and was showing something to Patty.

  “Happy birthday, Mom,” Fina said, stepping down into the room. She reached over the back of the couch and handed the flowers to her mother.

  “Those are gorgeous, Fina,” Patty remarked.

  Elaine buried her nose in them and sniffed. “Not much of a scent, though.”

  Fina walked over to her brothers and picked up a corkscrew. She turned her back on the others and mimed thrusting it into her heart. They snorted with laughter.

  “Milloy!” Elaine stood up and came around the couch to give him a hug. “What a treat!”

  “Happy birthday, Elaine. You don’t look a day over fifty.”

  “You spoil me, Milloy, but I love it.” She smiled shyly. Fina looked on with distaste.

  Milloy and Elaine returned to the couch, and Chandler, Scotty and Patty’s youngest, quickly climbed onto Milloy’s lap. Milloy was fit and muscular and thought nothing of picking up Fina’s nephews and roughhousing with them. Scotty wasn’t really into that kind of thing, and they relished the opportunity to play on a human jungle gym.

  “How’s Liz Barone?” Scotty asked, handing Fina a
glass of wine.

  “She’s brain-dead. There’s nothing they can do for her.” The siblings didn’t speak as they let the information sink in.

  “Where’s Dad?” Fina asked after a moment.

  Matthew gestured with his head. “In his office.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Fina said, downing half of her wine in one gulp.

  “Easy, killer,” Matthew said.

  “I have a designated driver. I can drink as much as I want, which, believe me, is going to be a lot.”

  Fina walked to Carl’s lair at the other end of the house. His office had a high coffered ceiling and a wall of windows that looked out on a pond and the woods beyond it. Carl was sitting behind a large glass desk that faced the door, a huge painting mounted behind him. Like his interest in wine, Carl had adopted the art-collecting hobby because it was the thing to do. As far as Fina knew, her father couldn’t tell the difference between a Kandinsky and a Dr. Seuss.

  She rapped on the open door and took a seat on one of the leather couches that sat perpendicular to Carl’s desk. He held her gaze for a long moment before speaking.

  “How’s it feel to return to the scene of the crime?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Fina asked.

  Carl gestured to a painting on the wall. Fina looked at him.

  “My safe,” he said. “Where you got the dirt on Rand.”

  Fina snorted. “Which dirt are you referring to? His professional malfeasance or the fact that he molested his daughter?”

  Carl’s face flooded with color. “We’re not discussing that.”

  “Of course not. That would be the healthy thing to do, but we’re not big on that.”

  “I took care of it.”

  “Temporarily,” Fina said. “You took care of it temporarily.”

  Carl had exiled Rand to Miami, under the guise of opening a satellite office of Ludlow and Associates. Rand had threatened to return to the family fold a few months ago, a possibility Fina found intolerable. Haley was living with Scotty and Patty, putting her life back together, and her father had no place in it. No one else in the family was going to keep him away—at least that’s what Fina was led to believe—so she dug around until she found incriminating information to hold over him. Information she found in Carl’s safe.

  Fina studied her father. “You wanted me to find that dirt.”

  Her father snorted. “Be serious.”

  “Rand’s exile has been extended, and it’s all because of me. You didn’t have to be the heavy. I’d be annoyed, except that I fulfilled my objective at the same time.”

  “You make life much more complicated than it is, Fina, what with your conspiracy theories.”

  “Why didn’t you cast him out yourself?” she asked. “Why’d you involve me?”

  “I didn’t involve you,” Carl said.

  “Of course you did. You knew I wouldn’t let him be around Haley. Why am I the only one in this family with balls?”

  He pointed a finger at her. “Watch it.”

  She said nothing, but maintained eye contact.

  “Did you have something to report?” he asked.

  “I’m making progress on the Liz Barone case.”

  “Glad to hear. The faster you’re done, the faster you can get back to real work.”

  Fina shook her head. “This is real work, Dad.”

  “Firm work,” he said.

  “Well, if everything goes well, you should have a big fat lawsuit against NEU when I’m done.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. In the meantime, I have files for you to review. I’ll have them messengered over in the morning.”

  Fina felt her neck muscles tighten. “Dad, I need to focus on this case.”

  “Just get your work done, Fina. It’s not that complicated.”

  “Fina! Carl!” Elaine’s voice cut into the conversation. “Dinner is ready! Now!”

  Fina rose from the couch. “How can you stand her summoning you like that?”

  “Hmm?” Carl had turned his attention to his computer.

  Ah. That’s how.

  10.

  The NEU student union was the bounty reaped from a $20 million alumni bequest. Pamela had been instrumental in securing the donation from an alum who’d made his fortune manufacturing and selling household cleaning products. She always felt a flush of pride when she entered the building: The NEU community enjoyed a state-of-the-art facility, and the alum would forever be associated with something other than toilet bowl cleaner.

  Occasionally, Pamela had meetings in the food court portion of the building, although “food court” was a poor description of the space. Dozens of eateries were spread over two floors, interspersed with pool tables, comfortable seating areas, and study nooks. The center was always buzzing with activity, no matter the time of day.

  Pamela had purposefully scheduled this early morning meeting outside of the office. She was a few minutes early, so she ordered a caramel flan latte and found a chair in a sunny corner. She peeled the lid off her drink and blew lightly across the steaming top.

  Two Asian students a couple of chairs away giggled and conversed in a language that sounded jarring and stilted. Some lanky young men were tossing a Nerf football between couches. A large television that anchored the seating area was tuned to the local cable news station. Pamela pulled a file out of her briefcase and flipped through it. She was meeting with the finance committee later, and the gathering had the potential to be contentious. She wanted to be as prepared as possible.

  “Pamela, can I get you something—oh, I see you’ve already got a drink.” Kevin Lafferty placed his briefcase on an empty chair and unwound his scarf from around his neck.

  “I do, but thank you for the offer.”

  “I’m going to grab some coffee. Be right back.”

  Pamela watched him walk to the café counter and chat up the pretty barista. To her knowledge, he’d never met a woman with whom he didn’t flirt. Men also seemed to fall under his spell. Not in a sexual way, but in the way charismatic people have in charming whomever they deem worthy of their attention.

  Kevin returned to the table with a cup of coffee and took a seat across from her. “What can I do for you?” he asked, taking a sip.

  “Has that private investigator been to see you?” Pamela asked.

  “The Ludlow gal?”

  “She’s not a gal, Kevin. Fina Ludlow is a grown woman who probably carries a gun.”

  Kevin rolled his eyes. “She stopped by the office. What about it?”

  “She came to see me, too. I don’t like her digging around.”

  “Why’d she go to see you?”

  “Liz Barone sent me some angry e-mails, and Fina got her hands on them. They don’t paint me in a very flattering light.”

  “What were you two e-mailing about?” Kevin asked.

  “Liz kept getting annual fund solicitations and was incensed. We meant to take her off the list, but there was an administrative error, and it didn’t happen as quickly as she would have liked.”

  “So, you explain that she was angry,” he said, “but you handled it.”

  “Yes, thank you for that advice. That’s exactly what I told Fina, but the lawsuit is a different story,” Pamela said, spooning up some caramel from the bottom of the cup.

  He shook his head. “We have nothing to do with the lawsuit.”

  “Except that it could have a negative impact on both of our lives.”

  “You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Kevin said.

  “Really? You haven’t thought about what might happen if that suit goes forward?”

  “It’s not going to go forward. There’s no proof,” Kevin said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t share your optimism.”

  “This
is all going to die down, and we’ll just get back to doing what we do.”

  “What did Fina want to talk to you about?” Pamela asked.

  “She wanted to know about my contact with Liz and my role as a booster.” His gaze wandered off as a trio of attractive undergrads walked by. He wasn’t leering, but Pamela still wished she had a cattle prod with which to get his attention.

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “That there was nothing to tell.” He looked at her. “Pamela, you’ve got to get a grip. NEU is going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine.” Kevin pushed back his cuff and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to run. See you at the silent auction.”

  He got up and draped his scarf around his neck. He walked away, depositing his cup in a recycling bin on the way out.

  Maybe she did worry too much, but clearly, some people didn’t worry enough.

  —

  Fina kicked off her workday with a call to Hal Boyd, her money guru. She used a CPA to file her taxes and oversee her business finances, but when it came to investigations, Fina needed someone who had a more flexible interpretation of the law. Hal was that someone.

  He showed up at Nanny’s an hour later, his puffy parka making him look even more rotund than usual.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Fina asked. “Water? Tea? I might have some instant coffee.”

  “Water, please,” Hal said, lowering himself into the easy chair next to the couch. Fina got him a glass of water and grabbed a diet soda for herself.

  “Wow, you start drinking that stuff early,” he commented when Fina sat down on the couch and popped the top.

  “It’s one of my few vices. Everything else, I do by the book,” she said, taking a long slug.

  Hal looked askance at her.

  “I’m kidding, Hal! I don’t do anything by the book.”

  He grinned. “What do you need?”

  “I need some information about the Schaefer Lab at NEU.”

  Hal pulled out a notebook from his briefcase and jotted something down. “Anything in particular you’re interested in?”