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I point up at him. “I got an extra éclair today because I know you love them and you know it, so no bitching. I’m doing my job. You do yours, which is to help me catch killers.”
“It’s to protect you.”
I smile at him as if to say, “Really?” and he just grunts.
Ten minutes later, which would have been an hour in traffic, we’re at the building where Landry offices his medical practice. After a short elevator ride, we’re at the door that is locked with the lights out inside. The times and hours on the door show they should be open until two pm. I walk to the neighbor’s office, some insurance broker it appears to be from the signage on the door.
I enter the lobby and find the front desk occupied. “I had a doctor’s appointment next door. Any idea where they are?”
The blonde female I’m addressing eyes me with distinct irritation, ruddy skin, and a top that’s a size too small, doing nothing to improve her first impression. “No idea. It’s Saturday and I’m not supposed to be here. Maybe they aren’t either. And I don’t know why everyone thinks I will. Call his office, how about it?”
I don’t reply but rather turn and leave the office without a word.
I don’t like stupid. I appreciate it when others don’t either.
She’s right. She can’t be expected to keep tabs on the neighbors.
Despite this encounter, I continue on this path, going door to door to ask everyone the same question with no success, as no one else is to be found.
“Now what?” Jay asks as we exit the building. “The ME’s office?”
I start walking toward the subway and he falls into step as I say, “Not yet.”
A good twenty minutes later, we’re inside the fancy high-rise building Landry Williams lives in. The kind of glitzy, expensive building a plastic surgeon to the rich and famous lives in, not a GP. I flash my badge at the skinny twenty-something security guard in thick-rimmed glasses cowering behind a big, black desk. “I need to see Landry Williams.”
“Mr. Williams left the country.”
“And went where?” I ask.
“I heard Europe but I can’t be sure.”
“What about his medical practice?”
He holds up his hands. “I know nothing.”
“Who does?” I counter.
“Maybe his neighbor, Sue. I think they have a thing.”
Sue, it is then,I think. “Is she here?”
“No, she goes to yoga on Saturdays and then a family dinner.”
He sure knows a lot about this woman. Someone has a crush. “Call her and give her my number,” I order, sliding my card onto the table.
“Yes, Agent,” he says, and grabs his phone with a trembling hand. Some people quake when they see my badge because they’re criminals. Some quake because they’re intimidated. He’s intimidated but he’s also doing what I want.
“No answer,” he says a moment later, still holding the phone. “Should I leave a message?”
“A detailed one,” I confirm.
I listen as he does as I’ve ordered and when he slides the receiver into place, I ask, “Anything strange about Dr. Williams?”
“Nothing. I barely know any of these people.”
“Says the guy who knows Sue goes to yoga and then a family dinner. Ask the guard who takes over for you what he knows. Tell him to call me if he has any details I need to know.”
He bobs his head. “I will. Absolutely.”
