A Fine Mess

Chapter 36

Miriam accepted the phone from Abatha and waited until the woman was out of earshot. She shifted her chair until it was out of the sun and placed her hat on the table, lifting the receiver to her ear.

"Your friend is happy but I think a little frightened."

"It's a huge risk for him, dear, but he'll be fine."

"You are so certain in manipulating the men in your life, Miriam. Should I be concerned?"

"You are the only man in my life. The rest are simply pawns."

"Peter tells me the vote is taking place today."

"Then we must be ready to follow the rest of the plan," she answered sternly.

"You're certain?"

"Absolutely, dear... trust me."

"Aaah yes..."

•••

"Did you hear from the hospital?"

"I called the doctor this morning. They wouldn't let me stay all night, probably a good move on their part. They tell me she was conscious for a short time and seemed to be reasonably aware and lucid. The nurse was saying she'd never had a patient that was so determined to respond. All her vitals are signaling good signs and if things stay the same, she can have visitors for a few minutes tomorrow sometime. All this uncertainty has whacked me out."

"That's too bad, Gil... but I have some good news for you." Jarlayne slipped into her old form, relieved that Deborah's crisis was over for at least the time being.

"The phone number?"

"Yes. I went through all the logs we had and the number that Brian's phone showed connecting to at the time of the meeting also appears on Mister Tubbs records. Not only that, it was registered to a Janet Smith and the number was cancelled shortly after the death of Barton Weston."

"Who the hell is Janet Smith?"

"Janet Smith is the name of a woman who also placed calls to Myles Forbin, the corporate lawyer for WesCat and to the Hightower Hotel where Janet Smith also held a suite, which was cancelled at the same time as the phone."

"Moira Weston."

"You're so quick, Gil. It's where I'd put my money. Are you ready for this? I ran a quick check on dear Myles and found he replaced his cell phone within the same time frame and that his new one shows calls to one Howard Tillman."

"Big cast. Who is Howard Tillman?"

"No idea... yet. But I have a suspicion. Isn't this phone stuff cool? There's another number that is listed on Janet Smith's log that I haven't run down yet but I thought you'd want these ASAP."

"You're right, I do. We can check the other one later, these are the ties we needed all along. Jarlayne how did you accomplish all this since yesterday? We've been farting around with this for ages now."

"When it turned brutal and personal. Let's just say I cashed in a lot of IOUs. Any future computer hacking will be a lot more expensive for a while, Gil."

"Put it all in order and bring it to me as soon as you can. I'm going to pay Mrs. Weston another visit."

"What about Myles and Howard?"

"I can beat the bushes for Myles with Moira Weston when I see her, you dig up what you can on this Howard. I'm going to try and get some shut eye and then first thing in the morning I'm heading for the hospital."

"What was the name of the cop we met at the hospital?"

"Aznasous. Mike Aznasous, I think, why?"

"I have a license to protect here, Gil. This information should be turned over to the cops."

"Jarlayne—"

"No. No, Gil. Time to get serious. You can still brace Mrs. Weston, but we need the police to press charges if we want to get Brian out of jail. Perry Mason you're not."

"Okay. You're right, just let me speak to her first. As soon as you bring me that stuff I'll go see her. Deal?"

"We're friends but this is business, Gil. I'll bring it to the hospital tomorrow morning but I'm calling Aznasous right after that. I'm sorry but it's the best I can do."

"I know, and I understand, Jar. I wouldn't be this far if it wasn't for you anyway."

"You're getting into my territory there, Sport. I'll see you later."

•••

Howard yanked the tab of his third beer and tossed it onto the table in front of his easy chair. He watched the TV announcer modulate his voice and expression apropos the various bits of news presented, as if he was auditioning for several different parts. The large bag of material Myles wanted stashed away slouched beside him on the floor. He sucked some of the beer out of the can and pondered his situation vis-a-vis Davis Tubbs and the lawyer's secretary.

Myles knew what he'd done and possibly he'd told the Weston woman. He didn't think Forbin had the balls to threaten him but on any given day... Howard drained the can of beer and pulled the bag onto his lap; if his friend thought it worthwhile, there must be something in here that would make good insurance, he reasoned, dumping the contents onto the table. Maybe he and his other employer might get something on; Howard laughed aloud.

He stopped rummaging long enough to listen to the report of the brutal rape and assault of a legal secretary in her office in the tonier section of Highland Hills and instinctively fingered the scabbed scratches on his neck. The police were asking for anyone with information to contact them or call the Crime Stopper line, at the moment they had no leads beyond DNA and fingerprints, which will only assist when they have a suspect. Howard snorted. Good luck, guys. He swallowed another mouthful of beer and went back to his rummaging. He didn't think he would be renting any mailboxes soon.

•••

Mike Aznasous rinsed his face and tore off some paper towel, scrubbing his face dry. He stood looking in the washroom mirror, wondering if the thirty-seven year old man looking back could manage another week in a job that was becoming less and less appealing with each new case. The condition of the legal secretary had greatly upset him and even knowing he should remain detached, this time, he'd felt something coil inside his gut and start to nest.

He thought of his parent's pastry shop and their disappointment when he chose not to join them but to do something so foreign to their nature that they felt betrayed by their only child. Perhaps a life behind a dessert counter would have let him sleep better and not think so little of his fellow man. He tossed the wet paper in the trash and pushed through the door back to the squad room; time to face another day.

The phone light was flashing and when he picked it up he perked up immediately. A Miss Jarlayne Brighton was waiting downstairs to see him. Rather than have her sent upstairs where he knew for certain she would become the center of attention and ammunition for subsequent teasing, he hurried down to the front desk, hand combing his hair and straightening his collar.

"Miss Brighton, pleasure to see you again." He took her arm and guided her to an empty interview room that smelled of recent sweat and cigarettes. "Ugh! These rooms really are the pits, would you like to go across the street instead and have a coffee?"

"Coffee will do," she smiled, letting him lead her out.