Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

 

They entered the house through a lavish and spacious marbled foyer. The beauty of the interior was masked by the strange artwork hanging on the walls and the odd-shaped furniture that was placed in the wide hallway.

 The young woman guided Mark to an imposing room with tall bookshelves that ran along the walls. They were stocked mostly with law books.  At one end of the room, there was an expensive-looking mahogany desk with a huge black executive chair behind it.  Facing the desk were two wide matching guest chairs with elevated arms.  At the other end of the room, sat a long dark brown leather sofa. At each end of the sofa, were matching end tables.

The room was bigger than Mark’s entire apartment.

“This was my father’s office,” the young woman explained, as she invited him to sit. She waited until Mark sat on the sofa before sitting next to him. She was attractive, with short hair, a small nose and tiny lips.  Her nose was also red from excessive tissue use.

“I’m sorry about Mr. Curtis,” Mark said, as he formally introduced himself. “My name is Mark Stone and I came here because I understand that he was representing Prentiss Construction in a major lawsuit against the county.”

“Yes, he was,” the young woman replied, her voice trembling. She had bags under her eyes, which Mark attributed to lack of sleep. “My Name is Daniela. John Curtis was my father. We were very close.”

Reading the grief on her face, Mark apologized and conveyed his condolences, while faulting himself for jumping right into a business discussion when she seemed still in pain from her father’s death.

“That’s okay,” Daniela said. “Even though it’s been a couple of weeks since he passed away, I still can’t believe it.”

As she talked, an alarm rang from somewhere inside the house, startling Mark.

She apologized, asked Mark to wait, and got up to investigate.

After she left, Mark stood up and walked over to the shelves to examine the books. They were the Southern Reporter editions that Florida lawyers used. He then looked at the pretentious desk. “This desk must cost more than all of the furniture in my office,” he said to himself. Except for a computer monitor, a yellow notepad and a pencil, the desk was empty.

“This would not be my choice of furniture,” she said, surprising him. He did not hear her come back to the room.

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he walked back to the sofa.

“It’s nothing. It was the oven. I forgot that I had something inside. It’s okay now.”

She followed him back to the sofa and asked, “Where were we?”

“You were telling me about your father’s death. What happened?”

She seemed in a daze. “The police said that my dad was drinking and was under the influence of the Ecstasy drug when his car veered off the road and fell in a lake, where he drowned.” Her eyes were distant and her voice was cracking.

“I’m deeply sorry about your loss.  I was very close to my grandmother when she died last year,” Mark said, trying to console her. “I can understand how this must hurt.”

Her eyes shifted from the walls behind the desk and the bookshelves that she was looking at, and she turned to look at Mark. It was as if she noticed him for the first time.  Her eyes were hazel, and she had to move a strand of her light brown hair away from her face, in order to look at him.

“I don’t believe what the police are saying,” she said, with firmness in her voice.  “You see, several years ago, my mother and my father went to a party and both were drinking. There was a crash and my mother, who was driving, died on impact.  My father blamed himself and swore off alcohol ever since. My father was the picture of health, going to the gym every day, and he never took any drugs.” She did not cry, but teardrops glittered from the corners of her eyes, which caused her to reach for the tissue on the end table.

“So what do you think happened?” Mark asked. In times like these, people always fail to see the shortcomings of their relatives, Mark thought. Maybe her father had resumed drinking and was doing drugs, but no one knew about it. However, Mark tried to appear sympathetic. He could tell that she was in a lot of pain.

“My father didn’t have to work.  He didn’t take cases for the money,” she said in a resolute manner.  “My grandfather was a very wealthy art dealer who left a lot of money for him.  My father only took cases that he believed would correct an injustice. I know that his death has to do with the Prentiss case.”

Mark, who did not anticipate her allegation, raised his eyebrows and gazed intently at Daniela. “Why do you think your father’s death had to do with the Prentiss case?” He did not want to appear indifferent, but there was a conspiracy theory for every weird and unfortunate accident.

She pursed her lips in a short moment of reflection, and said, “My father told me that one day, when everything about this case comes out, it will shake the political establishment.”

Daniela’s statement caused Mark to frown.

“Did he tell you what it was?” he asked, becoming more attentive to her story.

“No,” she answered after a brief pause, giving herself time to reflect. “The night he died, he told me that he was meeting someone at a bar called The Blues Girl. He said that the person might have some important information about the case.”

Mark was baffled. “The Blues Girl is in a very bad and dangerous section of the city.  Your father should have known that.  Why would he meet someone there?”

“Well, you didn’t know my father. He had been going to these bad neighborhoods for years, helping poor kids and guiding them to make better life choices.  Some of the artwork you saw in the house was done by some of the kids that my father helped.  I admit that it looks ugly, but my father kept it because he loved the kids.”

“It sounds like your father was a very good guy. I really don’t want to disturb you, but I came here to get your father’s file on the Prentiss case.”

“That’s the thing.  Someone broke into the house a few days after his death and stole the file.”

“You’re kidding me?” Mark asked in disbelief. This is not how he wanted to start the case. “Did you tell the police about it?”

“Yes, but they didn’t believe that someone was after the file. Since they believe that my father was drunk and on drugs the day he died, they also believe that the break-in was drug-related, and that the missing file was just a coincidence.”

“I see,” Mark said, feeling disappointed after hearing the surprising news. “So you don’t have anything for me to review today on the Prentiss case?”

 “No. Sorry. I wish I had the file too.  Maybe it could have shed some light on my father’s death.”

I knew it.  I should have listened to my intuition.  Something is not kosher, Mark thought. “Did your father ever say anything else about the case?” Mark was grasping for any bit of information he could get from her to help him get a better understanding of what her father’s file might have contained.

“No, he didn’t tell me anything else,” she replied, looking discouraged. Then she added, “There was a note that he wrote on a piece of paper and left in his bedroom, the evening he left for the bar. The thieves took it with them but I remember what it said.”

“What did it say?” Mark asked expectantly.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why is that?” 

“Because I believe it has to do with my father’s murder, and I will only tell someone who will help me investigate what happened.”

Trying not to show his frustration, Mark asked, “Why don’t you hire a private investigator?”

“I tried to hire one and he came to me a couple of days later to tell me that there was nothing he could do.”

“Did you tell the private investigator about the note?”

“No. Because, at first, I didn’t think that the note was important.” She compressed her lips and, in a tone of frustration, she added, “I discovered that the note was missing only a couple of days ago. It was then that I realized that the thieves must have taken it when they stole the file.”

Mark, who did not believe in Daniela’s conspiracy theory, asked, “If that’s what really happened, aren’t you scared?” In reality, since he had to investigate what had happened in the case, Mark knew that he would eventually discover the truth, and not the far-fetched murder scheme that she imagined.

“I’m not scared!” Daniela declared. “I have a gun and I updated the alarm system.”

“Good,” Mark said, satisfied. “Now, if you tell me what was in the note, I promise that if I find any information related to your father during my investigation, I will let you know.”

“It’s important to me and I want to help,” she insisted.

“Daniela, you and I are not private investigators,” Mark said bluntly, turning down her suggestion and hoping to convince her to give up. “I can’t even afford one right now. I was hoping to find the file or any information that your father might have uncovered that would help the case. Any investigation I am doing is solo. I don’t want to be responsible if something were to happen to you.”

“I can take care of myself,” she responded, ignoring Mark’s arguments.  “I have a lot of money and I can pay you.  All I want is to help in the investigation.”

She then smiled imploringly at Mark. It was the first time she smiled since Mark had met her.

 She has a nice smile, he thought. It’s not the time to think about romance. Sucker, don’t get her involved. “I can hire you as a paralegal.  But I can’t pay you,” he suggested, highlighting once again the diminishing influence of his male intuition.

“I swear you won’t regret it,” she said with a wider smile.

“So tell me, what was in the note?” he asked anxiously.

“It was a name.”

“What was the name?”

“George Ray.”