Tail of the Dragon

Chapter 4

4

Two hours passed before we were free to go. David and I headed for the elevators but were brought to a halt as men from the Coroner’s Office struggled to maneuver a gurney into the corridor. The shape of a human arm bulged from the side of a zippered black body bag. My breath caught in my throat. David reached out to halt my steps as the men continued toward the service elevator at the end of the elevator bank. David was tense and silent. We rode down to street level, pushed through the crowd, and reached the sidewalk.

“Julia, I am so sorry. I never should have asked you to come here.”

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault, David. How could you have known something like this would happen? I’m just glad I was here today, if only for your sake.”

“Let’s find a place to sit. Maybe get something to eat.”

I groaned, “I’m not sure I can.” My stomach was churning from the coffee I had managed to swallow an hour before.

“Well, have something with me. A cup of tea at least.” We crossed the street and turned up the hill on Sutter.

I did my best to walk next to David on the crowded sidewalk, but I was jostled continuously as people hurried past us. “Where are we going?”

“I’m thinking the Rose and Thistle. It’s quiet and we can talk there.” David sighed again. “Best of all, they serve liquor. I could use a stiff drink right about now.”

Being at the firm again, walking these streets, was stirring old memories, memories from a few years earlier. Michael and I had become engaged as soon as I had finished work on my masters in anthropology. He was heading out of the country for a month on a dig. I anxiously awaited his return. He did return, only to be killed by a hit and run driver on his way to meet me that very day. When I was finally able to get my bearings, I took the job at David’s firm. When I wasn’t at my job, I was a lost soul, wandering through the city at all hours. One day, in North Beach, I discovered The Mystic Eye. I became fascinated by the astrology books the shop offered and the owner, Gale Hymson, encouraged my interest. We eventually became close friends. That period of my life was a painful time but one I can now look back on, if not with fondness, at least with gratitude. It was a time of healing and recovery.

David and I entered the restaurant under a red awning. A black clad hostess stepped forward to greet us. “Hello, Mr. Meyers, how are you today?”

David struggled to smile. “Fine, thank you. Could we have a booth at the back, a quiet spot?”

“Of course,” the woman turned and, weaving around linen covered tables, led us through the elegant dining area to the rear. The walls were covered in a pale taupe fabric. Small sconces lit each booth. I slid into my seat and sank into the upholstered depths of the banquette. Leaning back, I tried to ease the tension in my neck. A waiter arrived immediately with two menus. David ordered a Scotch and soda and looked questioningly at me.

“Just water please,” I said. I wasn’t sure I could eat and tried to push the image of Jack’s body out of my mind. I turned back to David, “Did Jack have any family?”

David shook his head. “Not really. His parents died years ago and he’s divorced. Never had children. He does have a sister in the city, but for some reason, I don’t think they were on good terms.”

“Where did he live?”

“He has…had a condo somewhere in North Beach. Filbert, I think.”

I know North Beach well. I grew up there and my grandmother Gloria, who raised me after my parents’ death, still lives in Castle Alley. North Beach is a stone’s throw away from Montgomery Street and the financial district.

David sighed, “I guess we’ll have to get access somehow and make sure he wasn’t keeping any office files at home.”

“Look, I have to ask. What was all that vitriol in the lounge upstairs?”

“Huh?” David asked just as the waiter returned with his Scotch. He took a sip. “You mean Nora?”

“Yes, and Roger had a strange response.”

David frowned. “They were just being nasty. Frankly…well…” David hesitated. “Jack wasn’t well liked, as you can imagine. Not by the staff and not by his colleagues. There’s that and then there was a rumor floating around…don’t know if it’s true or not, that Jack was having an affair with Ira’s wife. Frankly, I don’t know and I don’t want to know, but if it did happen, I think it was a while back.”

I watched as David took another sip of his drink. “Meaning Ira was someone with a motive to kill Jack?”

“That’s ridiculous, of course.”

“It’s not ridiculous, David. Somebody killed him.” I looked up to see our waiter standing next to the table with a basket of warm rolls in his hands. He had overheard my comment and attempted to cover his reaction. “Would you like to hear our specials today?” I nodded and smiled in response as the man recited the menu. The restaurant was beginning to fill with a lunch crowd and had become noisier. I was grateful we were at the quiet end of the room.

“I’ll have the salmon and baked potato.” David turned to me. “What would you like, Julia?”

I ordered a spinach salad with mushrooms and feta cheese. My appetite had returned. I took one of the warm rolls and broke it open, buttering it generously. Our waiter nodded and moved away, casting a last dubious glance at me.

“Where were we?” David asked. “Oh, yes, Ira’s wife.” He shrugged, “I doubt if Ira particularly cared if his wife was carrying on with Jack or anybody else. She…uh…it’s been rumored she has a drinking problem and their marriage is pretty much…non-existent.”

“You should mention this to Sullivan.”

David grimaced, “I don’t know. It feels like I’m just gossiping. Maybe someone else will tell him about all that.”

“You can always give him a call. I have his cell number. He wrote it on the back of the card he gave me.” I took a large bite of my buttery roll. “What about Jack’s ex-wife? You said he was divorced? Is she around?”

“Yes. Hilary. Hilary Greene. She uses her maiden name now. Hilary got the house in the Marina after the divorce. I believe Jack made alimony payments for several years. And I heard she opened an art gallery of all things.”

“A gallery, huh?” I thought of my friend Gale who, besides her venture with The Mystic Eye, had become involved in the art world over the past year. Perhaps she knew of Hilary Greene. “Where’s her gallery?”

“Someone told me. Can’t think who it was now. Oh, it’s where Fillmore starts to climb. In fact, it’s on Fillmore. I remember now. I was taking to Suzanne, Suzanne Simms, our paralegal, about it. She and Hilary know each other. They went to school together.”

“And Jack’s sister?

“She’s here in the city, out in the Sunset. The police were going to get her address from Human Resources. I really should try to contact her myself tonight or tomorrow.” David swirled his glass around on the table. “There’s something else…”

I waited. He seemed nervous. “What is it?”

“I…uh…” David rubbed his forehead. “I had a bit of an ulterior motive in asking you to be here this week.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s as I said. Muriel wanted to take this week off. I could have called an agency or asked for someone from the 40th floor to fill in. I don’t really go to court very much anymore. I can always assign one of the other attorneys…but I thought, given your talents…you’re very perceptive and your intuition about people…well, I thought you’d be a good person to do some snooping, maybe pick up gossip or offer some insights.”

He was looking more nervous by the minute. And he was making me nervous. Given the events of the morning, I wasn’t in great shape to begin with. “David…get to the point.”

He took a deep breath. “A few people at the firm have received death threats.”

“What?” I almost choked on my hunk of buttered roll. “What kind of threats?”

He hurried to explain. “I thought if you were here, you maybe could…”

“And you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me this?” I squeaked. Hadn’t I just questioned him about the firm?

“I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I was just waiting for an opportune moment, but… That’s why I feel so bad now.”

“Was Jack one of those people?”

David nodded.

“I hope you told the police.”

“I made a report at the time, or rather the people who got those nasty things did. They came to me about it, so I made sure there was something official on file.”

“I meant today. Did you tell Inspector Sullivan about this?”

“Yes. Of course.” David replied in a defensive tone. “Three people got them. All in litigation. Jack was the first, then Ira, and then Suzanne. They were found in their office mail, in a plain envelope with just a name on the front. No postmark, no indication of where they came from.”

“What did they say?”

“One said, ‘You will pay for what you’ve done.’ Another was, ‘Prepare to die.’ The third one…” David’s hands were shaking, “…I don’t remember right now.” He took a long sip of his drink. “They were put together with letters cut out of magazines. The police have them now. No fingerprints, no indication how they got into the firm. No one in reception remembered receiving them. I should have taken it more seriously, Julia. If I had, Jack might still be alive.”

“No. That’s crazy. You can’t beat yourself up. You did what you thought was right at the time.” Except not telling me about it. “How does the mail come in?”

“We have a service that picks up from the post office and delivers. Hand deliveries come through the main reception on the 40th floor. They’re all supposed to be logged in. But there’s nothing to indicate these envelopes arrived that way.”

“What makes you think there were only three?”

David looked up suddenly, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, leaning across the table, “maybe other people received weird threats and didn’t say anything.”

David looked puzzled. “But why wouldn’t they?”

I shrugged. “Maybe they’re too freaked out. Maybe they laughed and dismissed it. Who knows?”

“Oh…this is going to sound pretty stupid, but I honestly never thought about that. But what could I do? I couldn’t just casually ask everyone who works at the firm, ‘By the way, has your life been threatened?’ Wouldn’t that be just dandy for office morale!”

“I see your point.” The waiter arrived with a tray and deftly placed our dishes on the table. I sprinkled salt and a few drops of dressing over my salad. “Is the mail room locked?”

“It is now. It wasn’t before. Three people work there. There’s Steve and Joey, they’re full-time, and Monica. She’s a college student who comes in the afternoons to help them out. We never used to lock that room. It’s right off the lobby on the 40th floor, and everyone in the firm has always had access to it; plus, a lot of the copy services and delivery people have been allowed in there to carry in boxes and whatnot.” David shook a napkin out and placed it on his lap. “That’s all changed now. No one is allowed in that room except those three people. Messengers have to wait in the lobby until someone from the mailroom can meet them. No one from the outside or inside, for that matter, has any access now.” David replied. “There haven’t been any more of those letters since.”

“What about the three who work there? What do you think of them?”

“They’re great, they’re all great. The two guys have worked here for a long time, Monica, for a couple of years. I can’t imagine any of them doing anything like that. Besides, the police questioned them at the time.” David rubbed his hands over his temples. “Julia, listen, I still feel bad about dragging you into this mess. Maybe you should reconsider. I think it’d be better if you didn’t come back tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about?” I bristled. “If the people who regularly work there can come in, then I can show up, too. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

David looked exhausted from the shock of the morning’s events. “You know, I should have called you for a reading when this first happened. You were right. Could I impose on you now?”

“Of course. When?”

“How ‘bout this afternoon?”

His request took me by surprise, but under the circumstances, I could certainly understand. I knew he was heading toward a difficult time. I mentally reviewed the work piled up on my desk but decided everything was under control and a few things could wait. “Okay. How about five o’clock? That’ll give me some time to get home and have a look at your chart.”

David Meyers was as hard-nosed and un-metaphysical as anyone could be when I first knew him. He used to laugh at my pursuits. That all changed when his college-aged son dropped out of school. David, and his wife Caroline, were beside themselves. They had groomed their son for law school and were upset by his rebellion. I volunteered to have a look at his chart and offered the opinion that his son’s true talent was music. It wasn’t at all what they wanted to hear, but they finally allowed him to transfer to a well-known music school and, since then, their son was performing, working steadily and quite happy. David and Caroline eventually became believers in the benefits of astrology.

“Can I at least drive you home?”

“Oh, no. Not necessary. Thanks though.” I knew David was heading up to Russian Hill, and 30th Avenue would be out of his way. “There’s something I’d like to do now that I’m downtown and have a little time.”

“Julia, my apologies. I’ve been thoughtless. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems, I haven’t even had a chance to ask how you’re doing.” I knew he was referring to my fiancé Michael, even though he didn’t say it.

“I’m okay. Really.” I hesitated. “I’d like to say I never have any bad moments or bad dreams, but…there are actually days now when I don’t think about all of that. Then sometimes a memory comes up and it still feels like a knife in my heart.” David was silent. “But, all in all, I’m doing well. I have good friends. I’m very busy and happy with the work I have, so there are blessings I’m grateful for.”

“The police never found the driver?”

I grimaced, “Nope.”

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to bring up the past.”

“It’s a natural question. Anybody would want some kind of resolution. Especially me.”

“Are you seeing anyone now?” David asked.

I laughed, “No. Although I can admit to a couple of dismal dates. A well-meaning friend and my grandmother twisted my arm.” Our waiter arrived to take our dishes away.

“Sure you won’t change your mind about that ride?”

“No, really. I’ll see you at five.”