Bone Box. Faye Kellerman

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СКАЧАТЬ few items—mostly water, beer, and club soda. I think Lawrence ate out a lot. I guess he could afford it. His clothes were nice—custom made to fit his body.”

      “And that was the only time you ever visited his place?”

      “No, there was another time afterward. The management called me to say he hadn’t paid his rent. At that point, I knew something was wrong. I told the police something was wrong. But they kept insisting that without anything to go on, they couldn’t do much. Lawrence could have disappeared on his own accord. When they found out he was undergoing a sex reassignment, they really stopped paying attention. They thought that if something terrible happened, it was because of his lifestyle. Which may be true. But that doesn’t mean you don’t investigate.”

      Decker said, “You must have been frustrated.”

      “Beyond frustrated. No one was listening to us.”

      “What happened with his apartment?” McAdams said.

      “I paid his unpaid bill for the month, but I told the apartment management I wasn’t paying anything else. I didn’t cosign the lease. I wasn’t obliged to pay them anything. After I explained the situation, the building supervisor let us in there to clean up. I boxed up Lawrence’s things …” She lowered her head. “My husband and I went through everything we could find. Every bill, every piece of correspondence, every scrap of paper. We didn’t find his phone or laptop or iPad. And the service providers wouldn’t give me access to his information because they didn’t know if Lawrence was alive or dead. He was a grown man—or grown woman. For all we knew, he could have been put in witness protection.”

      “Why would you think that?” Decker said.

      “Like I said, he knew a lot of counterculture people. Not that Lawrence seemed to be the type of guy to become an informant, but I really didn’t know a whole lot about his life, did I?”

      “Right.”

      “Besides, Lawrence bucked authority wherever, whenever. Anyway, when it was plain that he wasn’t going to suddenly show up, we hired a private eye.”

      “And?”

      “He talked to people—Lawrence’s old friends, his new friends, his friends on Facebook. The investigator talked to people Lawrence worked with, talked to old college friends and faculty. He charged us a lot of money. He got nowhere.”

      “Did he give you the files, Mrs. Pettigrew?”

      “He gave us a report. You can have it if you want. But if the body isn’t Lawrence, I’d want that back as well.”

      “Of course,” McAdams said. “Could we have the PI’s name? He probably has an entire file on Lawrence—more than he included in the report.”

      “His name is James Breck. He was a former New York police detective. He came highly recommended. My opinion is he was just churning up hours. But of course, I wasn’t thinking charitably about anyone at that point.”

      “We’ll check him out,” Decker said. “Where is his office?”

      “Somewhere in Queens. I have an address, but I don’t know if it’s current.”

      “Anything you can give us will help,” McAdams said.

      Decker said, “In the report, did he list the people he talked to?”

      “I don’t remember. I haven’t looked at the report in a while. I did have a list of people that I thought he should talk to. If you hold on, I’ll get you the report and see what I still have in the file.”

      “That would be great,” Decker said.

      As soon as she left, McAdams said, “Breck is in Astoria.” He took out his cell and called him up. He reached a human voice. Surprise, surprise. “Hello, this is Detective Tyler McAdams from Greenbury Police Department in Upstate New York. I’m trying to get hold of James Breck … okay, do you have any idea how often he calls in for messages?” Tyler paused as he listened. “Could you please have him give us a call as soon as possible? It’s important … yes, thank you.” McAdams spelled his name and left both his and Decker’s cell numbers. He hung up.

      “Answering service?” Decker asked.

      “Yes. It’s strange to actually talk to someone. Here’s the address.” McAdams looked at his watch. It was seven in the evening. “I don’t think he’ll be in, but we could swing by and leave cards to show we’re serious.”

      “Let me call Rina after we’re done here …” Decker stopped talking as Joanne Pettigrew came back into the room.

      She said, “Yes, I suppose we did give James a list of all Lawrence’s friends.” She handed it to Decker along with a folder. “Tell me if you find anything interesting.”

      “I’ll keep you posted.”

      “Although I suppose you won’t want to be wasting your time if it’s not Lawrence.”

      “I’ll be happy to look it over regardless.” Decker smiled. “Anything you’d like to ask me?”

      She sighed again. “Not at the moment. Maybe I’ll think of something later on.”

      “You have my number. Feel free to use it.”

      “Thank you.”

      There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Decker stood up and said, “Thank you for your time and for the dental X-rays. If we have something, I’ll let you know right away.”

      He extended his hand and Joanne took it with the slightest of touches. No energy in the gesture. She had used up her reserves for the evening.

       Chapter Seven

      McAdams looked over Lawrence Pettigrew’s PI report as Decker drove back toward Brooklyn. Just as they wended their way over the bridge and into Flatbush, the Bluetooth kicked in. It was a number Decker didn’t recognize. He accepted the call.

      “Decker.”

      “This is James Breck.”

      “Mr. Breck. Thank you so much for calling me back. I’m here with my partner, Detective McAdams.”

      “What is this in regards to?”

      “Lawrence Pettigrew.”

      “Ah, so you found him … or her, I guess.”

      “We don’t know. We’re in Brooklyn right now. You have a listed address in Queens. We can come to you.”

      “I’m at home. I don’t have his folder on me. It’s in the office.”

      McAdams said, “Is it possible to meet you at the office?”

      “Let me think … maybe around nine.”

      “Nine СКАЧАТЬ