“Is that so?”The man behind the desk—Jack, apparently—picks up a sharp letter opener and twirls it in his fingers.
The man—Jerome—stares over Jack’s head, his gaze fixed on red and white stripes.“In her digital calendar, it said she was having dinner with you on the last day anyone saw her.”
“Oh?What day was that again?”Jack opens his calendar on his laptop and checks the date he’s given.“No.That must be a mistake.I was at a fundraiser that night.”
Jerome clears his throat again.“Lauren hinted to one of her friends that she was seeing her boss.Her friend claims there was no one else.”
Jack drums his fingers on the desk.“And?”He chuckles.“You’re not seriously asking me if I was sleeping with my assistant, are you?My God, I’m not an idiot.Do you honestly believe I would jeopardize everything I’ve worked toward for a fuck?Hardly.”
Jerome smiles uneasily.“That’s what I thought.”
“So, who is this friend?I feel like I need to set her straight.I can’t have even a whisper of scandal surrounding me.”
Jerome’s heart races.“You know, I don’t remember.I’d have to check my notes.”
Jack sits forward, skewering Jerome with a glare.“There are notes somewhere about my possibly fathering a missing woman’s child?You’ve written this wholly unfounded accusation somewhere?Somewhere my opponent can find and read it?Tell me you’re not that stupid.”
“No.No, of course not.Just notes in my phone.She didn’t accuse you of anything.She said Lauren kind of hinted at seeing the boss.”
The man sits back in his chair.“I see.And her name is?”
Jerome holds out for as long as he can before he blurts, “Hannah.”He isn’t known for his strength under pressure.
Jack waits.
“Monk.Hannah Monk.”
“Good.Well, thank you for letting me know this is going on.I certainly hope Lauren returns soon for her mother and friends’ sakes.I’m afraid if she tries to return here, dumped and pregnant, she won’t have a job.I don’t give second chances.”
He unlocks his bottom desk drawer and opens it.“Here,” he says.“Have a drink with me.”He drops a small white pill into one of the cut crystal glasses in the drawer, pulls out a bottle, and opens it.“You’ve been quite informative.I’ll put in a good word for you with Hicks.”He pours into the glass with the pill.It dissolves instantly.He lifts it from the drawer, placing it on the edge of the desk closest to Jerome before pulling out the second glass and pouring himself some.
He holds up his glass, nodding to Jerome, whose hand shakes slightly as he picks up the cut crystal.
“I’m not much of a drinker, I’m afraid,” Jerome tells him.
“You’ll love this.It’s a twenty-seven-year-old single malt Scotch whiskey, aged in a cherry oak cask.”He stands, holding out his own glass to clink with Jerome.“This goes for hundreds a pour.Enjoy.”
Jack drinks his down in one.Jerome, deciding faster might be better, does the same, then coughs horribly.The coughing turns to gagging.His eyes bulge.He stumbles into the desk, but Jack shoves him back.He doesn’t want blood and spittle on the polished wood.
Jerome’s mouth is foaming.His nose is bleeding.He crumples to the ground, his face turning a horrible shade between red and purple.
“Do hurry up, won’t you?I have things to do tonight.”
Jerome’s gaze fixes on the baseball trapped in Lucite that’s sitting on the edge of the man’s desk.
THIRTY-FOUR
Service Awards for Murder
When I opened my eyes, my stomach rolled.I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom in time, but the feeling faded almost immediately.I was still holding the pearl.That might have been why.
I asked Declan, “Do you still have the octopus?”
He held up the bottle and poured sea water over my finger.I shook off the excess, put on my gloves, and handed the evidence bag back to Kaknu, who took out his phone and hit record.
“His name is Jerome and I think the woman I saw who looked like she was shaking hands is Lauren, the killer’s assistant.”I told them the rest of what I’d seen.
“Jack?”Osso asked when I finished.“I thought the killer’s name was Mike.”
