Page 46 of Delusional

“Have you met this LA developer, Arnold Marks?”

Steve let out a laugh. “I’ve met plenty of Los Angeles real-estate developers before. I haven’t met Marks personally, but this guy can’t be that different from the rest of them. I know exactly what he’d be like. Flashy, arrogant, and dismissive. Almost like a pageant parent but without the cute kid.”

I had a laugh at that one. Steve should’ve been a cop. He’d nailed Arnold Marks without ever even meeting him. And he’d made the whole situation a little clearer for me.

I needed to make some phone calls. I looked for an exit from the crowded reception hall. As I headed for the door, I noticed Rob Trilling sitting alone with the pretty young woman from the service. Trilling was eating one of Mona’s sandwiches while the young woman seemed to be passionately discussing something.

I knew it was none of my business, but it still bothered me.

CHAPTER 56

WALTER JACKSON ANSWERED his cell phone on the first ring. It was reassuring to hear his sonorous voice and easy laugh as he said, “I knew if someone was calling me midday on my personal cell phone, it had to be you. You’re serious about not using any NYPD resources for Rob’s problem, aren’t you?”

“Technically, I’m using up your time while you’re on the clock. So I’m not totally innocent in this.”

Walter laughed. “Let me catch you up on what I’ve learned about this guy Arnold Marks. You had his stats pretty close. You said a white male, age thirty-five to forty, and about six feet tall. He’s thirty-six and exactly six foot one.”

“Was he born in the United States? I detected a slight accent.”

“It’s hazy. I can’t find much on him before seventeen years ago.”

“Does he have any licenses or anything in the public record?”

“He’s got his realtor’s license, and I saw his name associated with several housing developments on the fringes of Los Angeles. Fairly big projects. I also found a couple of articles that list him as a developer of different projects. There’s another article that reports he was at the scene of a shooting.”

“Yeah, Rob mentioned something about that too,” I said. “Seems suspicious. How many realtors do you know who get involved in shootings?”

Walter said, “None here in New York, but God knows what goes on in Los Angeles.”

We chatted for a moment, then he filled me in on what had been happening in the bombing case since I’d spoken to Maggie Chin earlier in the day via text.

“No one’s claimed any responsibility for the bomb at the Midtown office building. One of the pedestrians hit by broken glass died during the night. That brings the death toll up to three. The building hasn’t yet been reopened. There are a lot of details they’re still trying to figure out.”

“What about security video?”

“The bomb took out the security system for the building. Initially, it seemed like that was a coincidence, until we discovered someone had bashed the outside box that sends images to the security company. The backup was held at the building.”

“So there’s no usable security video?”

“Harry has people going through the other buildings in the area and checking their footage. There is a definite shift in attitudes. People are getting nervous. Some of the TV stations are linking these two bombings to the one that killed Sergeant Vega in Queens, as well as the burglary of the Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey. Apparently, calls about suspicious unattended bags have skyrocketed since yesterday. This morning, the Bomb Squad destroyed a trumpet case that a musician had forgotten on the subway. They couldn’t get a decent look inside it because of the case’s lead lining. That screwed up subway travel for a few hours.”

This conversation wasn’t doing anything to relieve my guilt over having left New York, though I knew that if I flew home now, I’d feel guilty for not helping curb this LA businessman, who was probably responsible for at least Lillian Mathis’s death.

CHAPTER 57

LIKE MOST MOURNFUL receptions, this one didn’t last too long. The girl who had been hanging around Rob Trilling, who I now knew was named Cindy, stayed and helped the Trillings and me to clean up. I noticed she was quite friendly with Gary Trilling as well.

Maybe I’d misunderstood the situation. I also noticed, however, that Rob kept busy cleaning and moving things so that he didn’t have to chat with Cindy.

While I was helping Mona Trilling fold a tablecloth, I heard the young woman call out to Gary, “Are we going anywhere after this?”

Gary thought about it for a minute and said, “Hildebrand’s.” He glanced over to his brother, who nodded.

I asked Mona, “What’s Hildebrand’s?”

“A sports bar on the way to Bozeman.”

“Are you and Chet going?”