Rosato And Associates: Accused Part 15

"And sending her a friend request? Is that helpful?" Judy gestured at the ma.s.sive pile of letters that Allegra had written to Lonnie Stall. "And the letters, you told Lonnie you wanted to get the rest, and you said something about wanting to go through them. What did you mean by that?"

"Just what I said. I want to go through them."

"Why?"

"I want to read them, try to understand her thought processes about her sister's murder."

"They all say the same thing."

"So I'll reread them." Mary blinked. "I'd like to try to pinpoint when it turned from interest to obsession, and try to determine what caused it. To try and see why she's so alone, on her own."

"But-" Judy caught herself, and Mary knew her well enough to know that she was choosing her words carefully.

"What? Say it. I won't be mad. And I won't fire you."

Judy didn't smile. "I just don't want you to take on this kid's problems. I know why you would, and I love you for it, but you can't make her happy, or healthy, or cool. You can't give her friends, or make up for the friends she doesn't have. I don't know much more about her than you do, but I don't see her as a victim."

"Why not?" Mary asked, surprised. "She is one. She's been a victim of bullies, she told us as much, and so did her parents. And we know she's a victim of crime, because we both know how much a family's affected when there's a murder. I even think she's a victim of her parents, the way they push her around."

Judy frowned, in thought, if not disagreement. "I don't think her parents push her around, necessarily. They're doing what they think is right for her."

"They're chilly."

"Not every family is like yours. You have a really special, loving family. She doesn't have that, even I don't have that."

Mary agreed with that much. "So I can't account for the disadvantages of the upper cla.s.s, like extraordinary wealth, private schooling, and trees with names."

"Exactly." Judy smiled. "I see what you mean about her being a victim, and maybe you're right. But as for her lack of friends, or her aloneness, I think that's her choice. She isolates herself, don't you think?"

Mary shook her head. "n.o.body her age isolates themselves."

"They do when they surround themselves with thirty thousand bees." Judy looked behind her as Lou entered the conference room, slipping his cell phone into his slacks pocket with an unhappy frown.

"Ladies, bad news."

"What?" Mary and Judy asked, in unison.

"It's radio silence." Lou folded his arms, standing with his feet apart. "My buddy, Ray Morley, is now the head of security at Blackmore."

Mary didn't understand. "Isn't that good for us?"

Lou shook his head. "Only insofar as he told me, confidentially, that he's already been given my name and both of yours, with express instructions not to talk to us or permit us at the corporate offices of the Gardner Group. He was told that if anybody from Rosato & a.s.sociates comes knocking, calling, or asking questions, to notify him immediately and he's supposed to call one of the Gardner lawyers, I forget his name, Patel."

Judy nodded. "Neil Patel."

"That's the one. They're shutting us out, and they're not wasting any time. I didn't even ask him about the videotape or the guest lists, because I didn't want him to know we'd be looking for it." Lou permitted himself a brief smile. "In fact, I told him that you guys were driving me crazy, tracking down all the trial experts in the case. That will give them something to chew on."

Judy's eyes lit up. "Love that. We're waging our first disinformation campaign. Do you think he believed you? n.o.body would believe that we would drive a man crazy."

Lou laughed, and Mary smiled, but her thoughts clicked away. "So that means we should tell Allegra not to tell her parents that we were asking about the names of Fiona's girlfriends."

"Correctamundo."

"d.a.m.n." Mary could have texted Allegra, but chose not to. "It doesn't feel right, telling a thirteen-year-old to keep secrets from her parents."

Judy nodded. "Agreed, but it's inevitable in this case, which is why I'm already hating it, and why Bennie was, too. If we represent a minor, we automatically get issues like that. The case is intertwined with the family. You can't separate the two."

Mary met her troubled eye, then turned to Lou. "So what should we do now, gang?"

"I have a few ideas I can try," Lou folded his arms. "But if you want to see that Gage boy or any of the girlfriends, I suggest you hit the road."

Chapter Eighteen.

Having grown up in South Philadelphia, on Mercy and 9th Streets, Mary had gone to college at Penn at 38th and Spruce Streets, and then to the University of Pennsylvania Law School at 34th and Walnut Streets. So as soon as she stepped off the Route 42 bus with Judy and set foot on the corner of 38th and Walnut Streets, she felt her life conflate on the spot, her present collapsing into her past, and her past crashing her present like a house party. There were advantages and disadvantages to living your entire life in a three-mile radius, and the advantage was that you never got lost, but the disadvantage was that you could be disoriented in other ways.

So when Mary looked around at the intersection, she knew she had been here before, heard the hydraulic case of the very same bus, as well as the metallic slap of its doors folding closed, but for a moment, she felt confused. Her physical location was clear, but her temporal location less so, and she was back in college with Angie beside her, because Angie had gone to Penn, too. The twins had been in every grade together, even in the same cla.s.s, and they'd gotten identical scholarships here, and Mary felt bewildered because the best part of her college life was missing, in the form of her other half, which, she suspected, also included her heart.

"Mary, are you okay?"

"What?" Mary looked over at Judy, seeing Angie's face, then it vanished. "Oh, sorry. I'm a little tired."

"We didn't eat anything. Maybe we should get something from one of the food trucks."

"Good idea." Mary tried to shake it off, watching the traffic speed in three lanes down the street, heedless of the crowded sidewalks, the drivers trying to make the lights, which were badly timed. It was almost the end of the day, and they were all tear-a.s.sing out of the city, heading for the expressway ramps at 30th Street. The college branch of her and Angie's bank was on the left, and opposite was the modern building that housed Annenberg Center, the theater where she and Angie had worked part-time as ushers in their work-study program.

"That falafel truck looks good." Judy stepped off the curb as soon as the light changed. "Let's get a nice, thick falafel. It's too hard to get hummus breath otherwise."

Mary tried to pick up the pace, not to get lost in the crowds crossing the street. Students were heading home after their last cla.s.ses, heavy knapsacks and purses hanging over one shoulder as they yapped away on cell phones or laughed together in groups, a bobbing ma.s.s of double ponytails and backwards baseball caps. Mary and Angie used to travel in groups, but always together, the quieter Angie tagging along with Mary's friends, she realized now, with a pang. She hadn't seen it then, but she saw it now. She wondered if Angie had to go so far, merely because they had been so close. After all, if you'd started life sharing the same womb, maybe you'd have to live it on different continents. Mary never felt that way, but she knew Angie did, and she wondered if Angie would come home even if she got married. She didn't really know if Angie was estranged, or merely away, but she had a feeling she was going to find out, sooner rather than later.

"Rats, this is kind of a long line," Judy said, when they reached the other side of the street and joined the line at the falafel truck. It was yellow and red, with a whirring bulb of a fan on top, scenting the air with frying grease. "Let's see if it moves quickly or not."

"Okay." Mary had smelled that fried odor more times than she could count, and it always made her mouth water. Angie loved the Chinese food truck that used to park two blocks up, and its owner was named Ruben, which they always thought was funny. She found herself looking down the street, but Ruben's truck was gone, replaced by a gourmet ice cream van.

Judy followed her eye. "If you'd rather, we can get ice cream. It might be quicker."

"No, that's okay."

"I don't know if we have time for this. It makes me grumpy." Judy checked her watch. "What do you think?"

"Whatever you want."

Judy frowned, her eyes searching Mary's. "You sure you're okay? You want to do this? Should we just go interview the guy and forget about food?"

"Maybe we should skip the food and go see the kid, before the Gardners close in." Mary didn't want to worry Judy, nor did she want to tell her all her amazing new insights about how much life sucked without Angie. It wouldn't serve any purpose, and it would only make Judy feel bad, which was the last thing she wanted. "What do you say?"

"Agree." Judy clapped her on the arm. "You lead. You know where the frat house is."

"I do, but I was only inside once. This way." Mary turned, Judy fell in step beside her, and they joined the swarm of undergrads, grad students, and university staff, wearing laminated IDs around their necks. They pa.s.sed the Faculty Club and the Christian a.s.sociation, and Mary tried not to remember anything that involved Angie, or indeed anything at all. It was time to rejoin the present and investigate a murder case. "The frat is St. Andrew's or St. A's. They used to have casino nights with real money and real waiters, in uniform."

"Sounds like jerks," Judy said, as she covered ground with her big stride. She was almost as tall as Bennie, and when Mary walked with Judy, she felt like the stumpy mommy to a child on growth hormones. Obviously, she had been the exact same height as Angie, both were five foot three inches, but she put that out of her mind. She slipped her BlackBerry out of her blazer pocket and checked for Allegra's email, but it wasn't there.

"Allegra still hasn't written me back about Fiona's girlfriends."

"She's probably outside, playing with the bees."

"We'll have to tell her to check her email more often. If she doesn't get back to us by the time we can meet Gage, let's ask him."

"Good idea."

"What do we do if he's at cla.s.s or something? Wait?"

"Eat falafel," Judy answered with a grin, and Mary led them right up Locust Walk, the pedestrian walkway that bisected the campus, lined with tall leafy oaks that cast dappled shadows on the cobblestones and Gothic buildings with authentic Victorian details, like stone gargoyles and bats. The university housed offices like Student Affairs, Alumni Affairs, and the yearbook in some of the buildings, but a few of the homes were owned by fraternities, and Mary halted when they reached St. Anthony's, an incongruously modern brick building on the right.

"This is it." Mary gestured at the building, which seemed oddly impenetrable, with white curtains covering its windows and no activity out front, unlike all the other buildings, which buzzed with students hanging out, talking, or drinking sodas on the front steps. St. A's was the super-exclusive, rich-boy fraternity, the last bastion of old-school preppies and Eurotrash with world-cla.s.s trust funds. Angie hadn't liked St. A's because she didn't like anything that smacked of materialism, which was why she became a nun. And Mary, who was generally in favor of money, if not an outright money fan, became a lawyer.

"What are we waiting for?" Judy asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," Mary answered, shooing the ghosts away and heading for the door.

Chapter Nineteen.

Mary and Judy were let into St. A's by a uniformed maid, who'd showed them into a waiting room with cracked leather stuffed chairs and floor-length curtains. On the wall hung framed maps of Philadelphia from the days of Ben Franklin, before Italians moved in and brought the flavor. It was so cla.s.sy, Mary couldn't believe it was a real frat house. She muttered to Judy, "What kind of frat house has a maid? I don't have a maid and I'm a partner."

Judy looked over. "You should have a cleaning person. You can afford one. We have someone come in, every two weeks."

"You do? Don't you feel guilty?"

"No, why? It's an honest job, and it's the best money we spend." Judy stood up, restless, and wandered over to a Penn's emblem, on the wall. "Mary, what's the motto mean? You're the Latin jock and alumna."

"Leges sine moribus vanae. 'Laws without morals are useless.' Now sit down and tell me about your cleaning person. I'd feel so guilty. What do you do, put your feet up while she vacuums underneath? Sheesh!"

Suddenly the doors rolled apart, and Tim Gage stepped out with a smile that he flashed at Mary and Judy like it was beamed from a lighthouse. "I'm Tim, sorry to keep you waiting. Linda gave me your business card and told me you were here, but I had to finish, and I'll be right with you." Gage turned slightly, and out of the living room bopped a little kid with red hair, freckles, and missing front teeth. "Say h.e.l.lo to William, who's in third grade at Drew Elementary." Gage rested a hand on William's shoulder, in its little white polo shirt. "William is starting his own business and learning to be an entrepreneur. He's got his own startup. Isn't that great?"

"It sure is," Judy answered. "What's your business, William?"

William ducked behind Gage, who smiled indulgently. "William is a little bashful with new people, so I'll tell you for him. William wanted his cla.s.s to have a pet hamster, like he read about in one of his books, so he borrowed the money for the hamster and its cage, and formed a syndicate of other third-graders who hold shares to own the hamster and pay their share in its upkeep. They're going to hold a bake sale to pay back the bank."

Judy smiled. "That's wonderful, William."

Mary couldn't help but be touched, and she was guessing that Gage was the bank and not necessarily a murderer, though that remained to be seen.

"Today, William learned how to make a balance sheet, because the syndicate has some expenses, like hamster pellets and wooden shavings, and he also learned to put a value on his time and labor. Right, William?" Gage bent down and managed to gentle the boy out. "Another day we'll work on meeting new people, because that's something business leaders have to do, too, but not today. Ladies, if you wait a sec, his mom should be waiting for him, and I'll walk him out, then be right back."

"Thanks so much. Bye, William." Judy waved at the boy, who averted his eyes.

"Good-bye, William." Mary tried to process the information while Gage and the boy left, closing the door behind them. "Was that for real or for show?"

Judy laughed. "Mare. He might be a nice guy, even though he has a maid."

"Not possible. He's a stone cold killer."

"Now who has confirmation bias, huh? The kid obviously likes him, so how bad can he be?"

"Kids liked Ted Bundy, too."

"You're making that up. What a guy, huh? He must be in some kind of community outreach program, from Wharton."

"You call it outreach, I call it n.o.blesse oblige."

"Call it what you want, at least he's doing it." Judy paused. "I should take the lead with him. I did literacy outreach in school, and I like him better than you do. Also he's superhot and you're engaged."

"But you're living with someone who has a maid."

"Stop. Here he comes." They both fell silent as the door opened, Gage came in, strolled toward them, and sat down in one of the cushy chairs, crossing his long legs and raking back his glossy bangs.

"Sorry to make you wait, but that hour is sacred to me."

Mary wished for a notepad, so she could write, OH PLEASE.

Gage slid her business card from the pocket of his white oxford shirt, which he wore tucked into his jeans. "So you're from the law firm of Rosato & a.s.sociates, and you said you were here on a personal matter. What would that be?"

Judy cleared her throat. "My name is Judy Carrier and this is my colleague Mary DiNunzio, and we're looking into the murder of Fiona Gardner."

Gage frowned slightly. "You know that there's a man in prison for that, right?"

"Yes."

"Were you hired by him, to get him out or something?"

"No, we were hired by Allegra, Fiona's sister, because she thinks that Lonnie Stall, who was convicted of the crime, is in fact innocent."

Gage's eyebrows flew upward, disappearing under his hair. "Allegra thinks that? Little Allegra?"

"She's not so little anymore, and we just thought we'd ask you a question or two, because I'm sure you feel, as Allegra does, that justice should be done." Judy gestured at the wall plaque. "Laws without morals are useless, right?"

"Okay," Gage said uncertainly. "I have some time, so shoot. What's your question?"