Dru pursed her lips, fighting to hide a grin. “It’s a clothing store.” She closed her door and went to stand next to him.
“Nah. Who’d name a clothing store after lemons?”
“Chip Wilson. They make yoga pants.”
“Yogurt pants?”
Dru sighed. “Now I know you’re just pulling my leg.”
Leery took a long, slow look at her legs. “I could be convinced.”
“Come on, bozo,” said Dru as she began to pick her way through all the shattered glass.
“Are you nuts? You’ll ruin those million-dollar boots!” He came up next to her. “Here, let me carry you, Dru-baby.”
“You do remember I threatened to make you walk with a limp if you called me that, right?”
“What? Oh, sure. But I know you didn’t mean it.” He bent and picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all. “And if you did mean it, just think about who would be carrying you through all these glass posies if I couldn’t.”
Dru’s answer was a lopsided grin. “I wonder what happened here.”
“Looks like some windows broke.”
“Oh, I’d have never guessed.”
“Sure you would’ve. You’re a detective, after all.” He reached the lobby and set her on her feet.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “My knight in shining armor.”
Leery tipped her a wink and walked over to the red-haired corporal leaning against the wall and keeping the scene log. “Hey there, Red,” he said. “Dru, meet Red.”
“Oriscoe,” said the corporal, straightening. She glanced at Dru and stuck out her hand. “Sami Valentine.”
“Dru Nogan.” They shook hands, and Dru smiled.
“Did you get that mess in the Locus of Los Angeles straightened out, then?” asked Leery.
“Sort of,” said Valentine with a shrug. “I’m glad to be back in a big city, though. Those small towns…”
“Oh, yeah,” said Oriscoe. “Small towns will absolutely kill you once you’re used to the pace of a big city.”
“Fourteen,” said Red, flicking the end of her pen at the elevator doors. “Good to meet you, Dru. You’ll want to watch those boots.”
“You, too, and thanks,” said Dru as Valentine resumed her leaning against the marble-clad wall.
“Oh, hey,” said Leery with a grin. “It was good to see you, too, Red.” Leery glanced at the collapsed elevator. “That does a lot for my confidence.”
“Come on, you big baby,” said Dru, pulling him into the other elevator and pressing the fourteenth-floor button.
The doors opened on what looked like the remains of a battlefield. Flames had blackened the walls, carpets, and furnishings and had discolored the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. CSI technicians sifted through the wreckage, while two MEs stood over two white-bagged corpses. A civilian stood talking to two uniformed officers as far from the bodies as he could get.
Leery led Dru over to the witness. “We’ll take it from here,” he said to the uniformed cops. Turning to the man, he said, “I’m Leery Oriscoe, and this is my partner, Dru Nogan. We’re homicide detectives. What happened here?”
The man turned his shell-shocked gaze on Leery and shrugged. “It was like this when I arrived.”
“Sure, sure. What I meant was, tell us all about it. Let’s start with your name.”
“Oh.” The man’s gaze flicked to the body bags, then to the uniformed officers. “Bill Hartman. I’ve already been through it with them.”
“Ain’t bureaucracy grand?” asked Leery, flashing a winning smile. “Ever play telephone when you were a kid? We like to hear the details direct. You know, avoid misunderstandings and all that.”
“Oh. Sure.” Again, the man’s eyes flicked to the body bags, then the cops, and this time, the elevator. “Do we…” He gulped a breath and gave a firm nod. “I came in early, like usual—I’m a lithomancer and an enchanter, and I like to practice my art in private. Anyway, the first thing I noticed was all the glass in the street. Then, the wrecked elevator, but the other one worked, so I…”
“So you came on up,” said Dru, softly.
“Right. When the doors opened and I saw all the soot, I called for help. I…” His gaze flicked to the body bags once more. “I didn’t know about the bodies then.”
“Did you see anyone else?” asked Leery.
“I…” His gaze snapped to Leery’s, and his eyes seemed to light up. “Yes! There was a man…he came out of the elevator when I was in the lobby. He asked me what happened.”
Leery glanced at Dru. “What did this man look like, Mr. Hartman?”
“Oh…I… I didn’t pay him much mind.” He gave a helpless little shrug. “He wore black, I think.”
“What color was his hair?” asked Dru in a serene voice. “His eyes?”
“I…” Hartman gave another helpless shrug. “He put on glasses.”
Leery jotted the detail down in his notes. “Same height as you? Taller? Shorter?”
“A little taller, maybe.”
Leery looked him up and down. “And you’re what, five foot ten?”
“Eleven,” Bill said. “Five foot eleven.”
“Good. See there? You saw more than you think.”
Bill grunted, and his gaze danced to the body bags again. “I think…”
“Yes?” asked Dru.
“David Berman and his son, Ari, I think.” He looked at her with a haunted expression. “From their sizes and shapes.”
“They own the place?” asked Leery.
“My partners,” said Bill. “Usually, I beat them in. I like the quiet in the morning.”
“You are a jeweler, right? You have a lot of precious gems here?”
Bill jerked his head toward a blackened mass of metal with a heavy door standing open. “We did.”
“I see,” said Leery. “Not to be indelicate, Mr. Hartman, but would the Bermans consider doing a deal or two off the books?”
Hartman gazed at him, a spark in his eyes. “What are you saying?”
Leery hitched his shoulders. “Early morning—”
“Or late-night,” put in Dru.
“—meeting with persons unknown leads to a robbery and murder. We’ve got to consider it a deal gone bad.”
“At least to rule it out,” said Dru.
“And to do that, we need to know if your partners conducted business off the books regularly. We’re not the IRS, so we don’t care if they did, except it opens certain doors for our investigation.”
Hartman nodded, then blew out his cheeks. “Up until this morning, I’d have said no in an instant, but…”
“Right,” said Leery. “Then you have no idea who they might have had a meeting with?”
Hartman shook his head. “I can’t imagine what would have brought them here after hours. David liked to follow the rules.”
“I see.”
“Ari, though…”
“Yes?” asked Dru. “Ari what?”
“He was more interested in…expediting things, shall we say? More interested in loopholes in the letter of the law than following the spirit of it.”
“I see,” said Leery. “Ari might have been more tempted by a shadowy deal than you and David?”
Hartman nodded. “That’s fair. But I don’t think he would have gone so far as to buy blood diamonds, or, say, help a snack dealer launder money. A sale with no receipt and no taxes paid? Sure. Maybe buying some gemstones without proper paperwork. Perhaps David got wind of it and came down to put a stop to it.”
“Okay,” said Leery. “That gives us something to work on. Is there a Mrs. Berman?”
Bill nodded. “There was. She passed three years ago.”
“Ah. What about Ari? Did he have a wife? A girlfriend?”
“Yes—at least, the last time I spoke to him of such things. Her name was…” Hartman rolled his gaze to the ceiling and lifted a hand to tap two fingers on his lips. “Laura something,” he murmured. “Laura… Laura Hansen? Hapson?” He shook his head. “I have it on my computer. They lived together.”
“Do you have the address?”
Nodding, Hartman took a step toward a blackened lump of twisted plastic, then stopped. “Uh. Yes. I have an offsite backup. It’s at home, actually. I can send you the address as soon as I can leave.”
Leery nodded, turning his attention to the office. “I assume you have an inventory of that safe?”
“Of course,” said Hartman.
“Anything else strike you? Anything look missing besides the contents of the safe?”
Bill glanced around, his shoulders slumped, then sighed. “I can’t tell.”
“Well, maybe after you’ve had a chance to go through things a bit. We’ll start with that address and the safe’s inventory.” Leery fished out a dog-eared business card and handed it over. “Give us a call if you discover something missing. In the meantime, I’d like to set you up with one of our sketch artists. They’re pretty good at helping people remember details. I’ll send the best we’ve got—a guy by the name of Johnny Smith.”
Bill shrugged.
