Hunting for Hemingway Read online

  "You don't have to..."

  He peered into my office over my shoulder. "You should tidy things up, DD. I bet the press will be here today to interview you. You know how hot Hemingway is. You could easily... "

  "George, " I said firmly, maneuvering him out of the doorway. "I don't want to see anybody from the press. You better notify security to keep them out. Are we clear on that?"

  "Of course," he responded. "Whatever you want. But why don't you want publicity? You didn't kill the guy, right?"

  Another person in my orbit who apparently thinks I might be capable of murder. How many more were there?

  "I can't talk about that," I told him. "And I've got to get to work now." I stepped back quickly and closed and locked the door to emphasize my point. Hopefully he wouldn't come back, at least for today.

  Yesterday's pounding headache was back, accompanied by a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I did have a concussion. I made a note to call and check what that head scan would cost. I unearthed a bottle of Advil at the back of a drawer, swallowed the last three with a gulp of water, then worked up a list of calls I wanted to make before answering the summons to Phil's office.

  While I waited for the Advil to kick in, I propped my feet on my desk and checked MapQuest for the best route to City College. It was the logical place to start digging up some information on David, and I planned to stop there later today. I felt sure the cops weren't doing anything except suspecting me. I wondered whether they had a tail on me. Probably one of those GPS tracking devices.

  I forced myself to call the dreaded IRS and spoke to Miss Wang. She informed me that Mr. Poussant was not yet in and no, she didn't know what time he would be. All I could do was leave a message.

  Rifling through some papers, I found the number for Chicago Security, Inc. I called and asked for their president, Jimmy Lee Yarborough. Jimmy Lee and I had met at a demonstration on the latest high-tech advances in home and business security. He'd hired me last week to handle what he called "a real tough case" of false alarms. His company had won out in a hotly contested competition to install a state-of-the-art security system at a sprawling, new and very posh assisted living facility called Monarch Care on Chicago's North Side. Jimmie Lee asked me to investigate why the security system's computerized alarm was going haywire and setting off a slew of false alarms. After the first few alarms, Monarch Care began to charge-back the costs to Jimmy Lee's company, so he was anxious to get the problem straightened out before it ruined him. I'd been lucky and solved the case on Saturday before David's murder-although it seemed more like a million years ago.

  Finally, he came on the line. "Jimmy Lee? It's DD McGil"

  "Miss McGil? What's up? If you need more information on that senior citizen case, you got to get it from Manny. He's got all the particulars. Hold on, and I'll transfer you."

  "Wait, Jimmy Lee. I don't need any more information. I'm calling to tell you I solved the case."

  "What? Impossible." He belly-laughed. "We just gave you the dang thing a few days ago. Two other agencies were working on it before I gave it to you, and they couldn't find a thing wrong. They checked and rechecked everything, and tell me they can't pinpoint why that fool alarm goes off all the time. So what makes you think you're so good you got it already solved?"

  "Jimmy Lee, if I didn't know you better, I might be mad because you called in two other agencies before you called me. As it is, I'm willing to bet I'm right. How's an extra $200 bonus sound?" My headache was getting marginally better.

  "If you got this one bagged, DD McGil, two big ones would be well worth it. But the odds are against you. And if you're wrong, I'm gonna tell Aggie to take that $200 right off the top end of your invoice." He chuckled again. "You don't have a prayer."

  "Remember what Ernest Hemingway said, Jimmy Lee. `In addition to prayer, there is effort' Well, this comes as a direct result of same. Are you sitting down?"

  "What the hell does Hemingway have to do with this? Have you got somethin' or not?"

  "Do you remember Cap'n Crunch?"

  "DD, you been drinkin'?" he asked.

  "I'm disgustingly sober," I said, chuckling. "Do you remember a few years back when a bunch of young guys-they called themselves `Phone Phreques'-used the Cap'n Crunch prize whistle to break into one of the big telephone systems?"

  "Oh, yeah. I remember. It was a big deal. So?"

  "So, as Sherlock Holmes said, when you have eliminated everything but the improbable, then that must be the answer-or something like that."

  "You saying Cap'n Crunch was responsible for all those false alarms?"

  "No. I'm saying it was the bird. The bird did it."

  "Okay, now I know you been drinking. I heard about you finding some guy's body. Where you calling from? Home? I'll send somebody over to help you."

  I laughed. "Honestly, I'm completely sober. Listen. You know that mean-tempered African grey parrot they keep as a pet at Monarch Care? You must have seen him or at least heard of him. They keep him in a big cage in the recreation room next to the main lobby. I think his name's Hal, and he's mean and loud, but he's clever."

  "What does their parrot have to with anything, DD?"

  "He's the one that's been setting off all the false alarms. You know, Jimmy Lee, maybe you could get him a TV spot when this is all cleared up."

  "You're makin' all this up, DD. I been in the security business over twenty years, and I never heard nothing like this." He paused, thinking it over. "The parrot? You sure?"

  "I'm positive."

  "Just how does he do it?"

  "That's why you pay me the big bucks, Jimmy Lee. And next time, don't go calling me third or fourth. Call me first."

  "Okay, I promise. But tell me how the damn bird does it. C'mon. I got a right to know."

  "Well, to make it simple, the bird-excuse the pun-'parrots' the security code for the computer hook-up that runs all the security. He must have been around when your guys were there installing the system and testing it, and he memorized the tonal sequence of the code. Now, whenever he decides to sing out the sequence, he turns on the alarm. He's got one hell of an ear, and he's got the tones down perfect. He's just like a blue box, like those guys used to bilk the telephone system."

  "No shit. Wait till I tell everybody," he said. "About that bonus, DD."

  I rang off, a little embarrassed at the easy money I'd be getting, but glad to have the case off my plate so I could concentrate on David. As for Barry's problem, I didn't have a clue. Maybe I'd be able to go to sleep with it on my mind and wake up with a miracle solution. They say you can dream solutions to your problems. It hadn't worked when I tried it for the Scotty problem, but right now, that was my best hope.

  I quickly scanned the rest of my messages. The only call I needed to return was from Karl Patrick. I know him because we've had lunch together now and then ever since circumstances had thrown us together on the first case I'd done for American Insurance. He'd jumped in headfirst and bailed me out when I was in trouble. Under all his brusque brouhaha was a soft heart, only he doesn't like anybody to know.

  His secretary Annette put me on hold, and a few minutes later, Karl said, "Hello, DD."

  "Hi. I'm returning your call."

  "I heard what happened," he said. "You doing okay?"

  "Well, yes and no. Thanks."

  "You got everybody and his brother calling me to represent you. First Lauren Stephenson called and hired me to represent you. Then Morgan Fernandez called wanting the same thing. You might as well put me on retainer."

  I was speechless. Lauren had really meant it when she said she thought I needed help, and she'd put her money where her ... And Morgan had called Karl, too. Maybe things were worse than I thought.

  "You still there?" he asked.

  "Yes. But I don't think I need a lawyer. Don't get me wrong. If and when I do something, you're the one I'll call."

  "Consensus is this, DD. We're all worried. My network of sources tells me that if the cops
don't get a break soon and find the real killer, they're going to revisit your involvement. Is it true you spent the night with Barnes?"

  "Geez, how'd your people find out so fast? I suppose you even know what color panties I had on."

  "I heard you weren't wearing any. Am I paying my sources for bad information? Look, I've been able to dig up some stuff on the sexual harassment suit against Barnes. It's pretty serious stuff, DD. The cops must have felt there was a good case against him because they handcuffed him and dragged him out of class. Word is he was in a real fight for his academic career"

  "The paper didn't give any details. Who filed suit against him? Who was he supposed to have harassed?"

  "I couldn't find out all the details, professional ethics and all that. His lawyer isn't saying much, even in confidence. But a lot of it's public record, so I'll tell you what we uncovered. He was charged with making lewd suggestions and touching a student's breast. Her name's Debbie Majors. Seventeen years old, lives with her parents, and is, supposedly, a Vestal Virgin."

  "Karl, this doesn't sound like the old David. Everybody knows he was a womanizer, but harassment? I can't see it"

  "Did he mention anything about the suit to you?"

  "Not a word."

  "Well, after he got slapped with criminal, civil, and administrative charges by the victim and the school, he hired one of the top firms to defend him. Just last week, the criminal charges were dismissed for lack of sufficient evidence. It made Law Digest, but the papers didn't pick it up. He still had the civil and the administrative proceedings to go through."

  "All we talked about was Hemingway," I said, vividly remembering the night.

  "From the information I've gathered, your friend wasn't just researching Hemingway, he was trying to emulate him. Drinking a lot, living dangerously, and..."

  "And what?"

  "Being prolific with the ladies," he said gently.

  Karl had just filled in the blank I couldn't force myself to face. All David's womanizing escapades might explain why he was at City College instead of a more prestigious institution.

  "It seems that a few years ago," Karl continued, "David was named a third party in a high-profile divorce. Then, about a year after that, the IRS decided to investigate his expense accounts.

  "He had a full professorship at Boston University. He must have been hot stuff for that to have happened. When he was asked to leave there about a year and a half ago, he came back to Chicago where City College offered him a vice-chair in the English department. Then, a little over two months ago, the sexual harassment suit was filed against him."

  "What were his chances of winning the civil suit?"

  "From what I gather this morning, he had an excellent chance. But who knows about the administrative hearing? Office politics might have tied up the whole issue for years."

  "If they dropped the criminal charges, couldn't David have sued the college for false arrest?"

  "His attorney told me they'd discussed filing for wrongful arrest as a counter attack, but they wanted to get through the civil charges first. What did he tell you about the Hemingway manuscripts?" Karl inquired.

  "He was worried because the whole question of ownership was up in the air. The next morning, American Insurance hired me to help clear up details on the coverage. I was in Phil Richy's office on the phone with David when he was shot. Now I'm the number one suspect."

  "When can you come in, DD? We need to prepare some things in case the cops pick you up."

  "I'm hoping they'll find out what's going on and drop their interest in me"

  "Don't count on it. Get yourself over here today. It's best to be prepared. Oh, by the way, my investigator told me David's apartment was ransacked. Did they get the manuscripts?"

  "I don't know. David told me that he needed time to get them before our meeting, so I don't think they were in his apartment."

  "That's an important detail. Do you have any idea where they are?"

  "No. Maybe he's got a safe-deposit in some bank. He told me there were tons of security problems, and that's why he wanted the auction to happen as quickly as possible."

  "Do you have any idea how valuable those manuscripts are?"

  The figure Karl quoted made me catch my breath.

  I said good-bye after promising Karl for the sixth time that I wouldn't talk to the cops without him.

  On the way to my meeting with Phil and Matt, the conversation with Karl kept going round and round in my head. Would the cops arrest me, even though they'd found no powder residue? Did I, as Karl insinuated, make a mistake by talking to them without legal advice, even though I was innocent? And if the Hemingway manuscripts were lost again, would their value increase? American Insurance could be in the hopper for a big payoff, and Matt wasn't going to like that one bit.

  FOURTEEN

  Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk.

  That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.

  -ERNEST HEMINGWAY

  I DREADED SEEING MATT again. I admit I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Jumping into bed with Matt after Frank died was one of the big ones. Now Matt was mad because I told the cops he was involved. I was probably going to lose this job-maybe worse. Hopefully Phil would be on my side and help ease the awkward situation. I took a deep breath and opened the door to Phil's office.

  Matt stood in the middle of the room. Alone.

  "Hello, DD," he said in that sexy voice of his. "Come in." He took my arm and firmly closed the door behind us.

  "Where's Phil?"

  "Sit down, DD"

  He perched on the edge of Phil's desk and leaned toward me, our legs touching. He looked smashing, as usual, and very at ease, even in someone else's office.

  "I suppose you're upset because I had to tell the cops I was working for you."

  "Quite the contrary, DD. I'll admit I wasn't happy about having to turn around and come right back, but I know you did what you had to do. I want you to know that I corroborated everything you told them. I did my best to discourage the cops from considering you a suspect. Now I hope something positive can come out of all this. You're looking very beautiful today."

  This was not what I expected. "Sure," I deadpanned.

  "It's time we talked things over, DD"

  "There's nothing to talk over." I swiveled around, disentangling my legs.

  "Oh, yes there is. And since we're working together, we've got to come to some kind of understanding." He touched my shoulder. "We can't leave things like they are."

  I wasn't happy about my part in my panties ending up on the floor in l'affaire Matt King, but as far as I was concerned it was over, and I said as much.

  "No, it's not," he insisted. "I'm still crazy about you. Turn down the deep freeze for a minute. Let's call a truce."

  I lowered my eyes and studied the floor, hoping Phil would return and rescue me.

  "It's been a long time, DD. Why haven't you answered any of my calls or letters?" He lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his handsome face.

  "You even refused the flowers I've sent. What's going on? I thought we had something special. I told you I'm in love with you. You gave me the impression the feeling was mutual. Was I wrong?"

  I turned away. In the history of the world, I knew I wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last to have things turn around and bite me in the ass. Usually I investigate a thing to death before I do it, buy it, or sleep with it. In Matt's case, I was thinking with my hormones instead of my brain. I didn't want any pity, but I didn't want to take up where we'd left off either.

  "Let's just leave it that I made a mistake, okay? It was a long time ago," I said, sick at heart as I recalled how Matt had made me come alive again after Frank's death.

  "It was no one-night stand, DD, and you know it. I still want you.

  "And I'm sure that goes for wifey and the kiddies, too," I said wearily.

  "So that's the problem." Matt stood up and faced me. "Look, you knew what we were doing as well a
s I did."

  "Did I?"

  Matt perched on the edge of the desk, leaning both hands on the arms of my chair, encircling me with his body as well as his aura. "I want you to be my lover. What's so wrong? You had the same arrangement with Frank. You told me so. What's so different?"

  "Don't compare yourself to Frank," I said, pushing his arms out of the way.

  I stood up and went over to Phil's window, keeping my back to Matt. "Frank and I were engaged to be married. That was entirely different."

  Matt came over and gently clasped my shoulders. "After his death, you ended up paying all his bills and everything, didn't you?"

  "Only because his stepbrother, Ken, was a son of a bitch." "

  I wanted to help you forget," he said softly.

  I thought of Scotty, who really had helped me forget. And now Scotty was gone too. I was glad Matt didn't know anything about that whole episode -or did he?

  "DD, I still want to be with you. We're good together, and you know it."

  I stood immobile, bracing myself against his overwhelming presence. I fought to stay indifferent. They say men think about sex more than women, but I don't believe one word of that.

  He spun me around. "DD, take a look at yourself. You're making a living as an insurance investigator, and you're good at it, I'll give you that. But you deserve better. I can put you up in style in a Lake Shore Drive condo and really take care of you. You can go back into academics if you want. You could do anything you want. How about it?"

  I turned away. In spite of everything, I wanted to say yes. He was so damned attractive. He made my pheromones bounce off the walls. But I'd never be happy thinking about the kids.

  "Matt, it won't work," I finally said. I headed for the door and wrenched it open. Phil was standing on the other side, blocking my exit.

  "What happened to you?" I asked gruffly.

  "What's going on?" Phil asked sheepishly.

  Matt, now at my side, said, "I asked Phil to step out for a few minutes so we could talk privately. He knows I'm angry at you for embroiling me in the David Barnes mess. But since we have to work together on this case, I was sure we could reach some common ground and stay friends. And we have, haven't we?"