Chapter Sixteen
Everyone was scheduled to meet in the lobby of Park’s building, a strange place for Park to be after a week away. It looked the same, and yet different. The building was fairly new, with a sleek design in the lobby, stark white walls with lots of kooky retro space-age elements. The huge front desk, a gray and blue affair with a white top, dominated the space; the doormancurrently sat behind it. Behind the doorman’s chair was a wall that separated the lobby from the mailboxes and the elevators upstairs.
That surreal feeling of everything being familiar but wrong that had hung over Park all week was back with a vengeance.
Dee had escorted Park to the building. A lot of the press had cleared out from around the hotel, at least, but a few reporters and cameramenstill hung around. Now Dee hooked his thumb toward a little sitting area in the lobby and backed away as Park stood at what had been, until a week ago, the entrance to his home.
Ramon, the regular doorman, hopped out of his chair and greeted Park amiably and said, “Mr. Livingston! Carl, who was here last Sunday? He’s been fired.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” said Park.
“Don’t be,”said Ramon. “Kid was no good.”
Gavin and Jackson strolled in then. Jackson was back in one of his expensive suits, the jacket uncharacteristically unbuttoned. He and Gavin were engaged in a conversation Park was just too far away to be able to hear. Jackson made eye contact with Park, his expression wary, and Gavin marched forward through the lobby as if he owned the building.
Park thoughthe might throw up. Jackson barely acknowledged Park as Gavin gestured toward the elevators.
“Smoke break,” Gavin said a few minutes later as they rode up to Park’s floor.
“What? You don’t smoke,” said Jackson.
“No, that kid Carl.”
“Ramon just said he was fired,” said Park.
“For good reason,” said Gavin. “He took a smoke break around seven thirty. I got the missing video footagefrom the management company late yesterday. In the bit they cut out, Carl pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and walked out the front door, presumably to take a smoke break. Then Kenneth Goddamn Tucker strolled behind the desk and stole the keys. He wore gloves, too. After the murder, Tucker waited for Carl to take another smoke break, and he put the keys back. Tucker was fastand stealthy. Carl only stepped away from the desk maybe a minute and a half each time.”
“Aren’t the keys in a locked drawer?” Park asked.
“You’d think, right?” said Gavin. “No one locks the drawer, though. I questioned Ramon about that last night.”
“Great,” said Park.
“You should consider suing your management company,” said Jackson.
“Jesus.”
“This is good news, as faras the case goes,” said Gavin. “We have proof Tucker stole the keys. Now I’m just waiting on the crime scene report for some of the hairs we found to confirm that Tucker went into your apartment. The only thing I’m still fuzzy on is the motive.”
That still baffled Park as well. “I didn’t know Tucker. Why would he do this to me?”
The elevator pinged, and they walked out onto Park’s floor.
“He didn’t do ittoyou,” Gavin pointed out.
“Didn’t he? He committed this crime in myhome. He staged it so I’d look guilty.”
“And isn’t it weird that there was enough premeditation for him to have worked out how to steal the keys and to wear gloves, but he didn’t think to check on Park’s whereabouts?” said Jackson. “Because Park’s alibi really is solid. He was nowhere near the buildingat the time of the murder.”
“That’s a puzzle I’m hoping to solve with today’s walkthrough,” said Gavin. “I see two possibilities. Either he knew Park wouldn’t be home so he could break into the apartment and do whatever he was going to do, or he didn’t know Park’s whereabouts and framed Park badly. I’m banking on the former, but what this guy wanted to do, what he actually did, and why, areall open questions.”
They paused in front of the door. Yellow police tape still crisscrossed in front of it. Gavin unstuck the tape on one side so it didn’t block the door. Park pulled out his keys but he paused. “I really don’t want to go in there.”
Jackson put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to have to at some point anyway, if only to move all of your stuff out. Might as well getthis first visit over with.”
Gavin took a plastic pouch out of his pocket and tugged a series of latex gloves out of it. “I need you all to cover your hands before we go in there.”
“This is my apartment. My fingerprints are all over everything anyway.”
