I remember,” she said, like her voice was a wall between us, and she had to use all her strength to keep holding it up.
“What you said was, you knew where they were but you never even looked at them, right?”
“Yes.”
She was like a big talking doll. A doll that could only say one word. I knew she’d just say it again and again if I kept asking those same kind of questions. I was stuck. So I just shut up.
A little time went past. She never moved. Then she said, “I told you, it was a matter of trust. Didn’t I do that?”
“Yeah,” I said. But even as it came out of my mouth, I realized I was going to end up sounding just like her. Two parrots, who only knew one word between them. I had to take some kind of shot. “Did you know Albie left a will?” I asked her.
“No.” Just like that. Maybe she didn’t even want to think about it. Maybe Albie had family somewhere. Maybe she didn’t know that; maybe she was afraid to find out. Everything out of this broad’s mouth was a “maybe.”
“Well, he did,” I told her.
“Where did he leave—? Wait. I get it. Solly, he’s got it, right?”
“Yes. I called him earlier tonight. I wanted to make double-sure before I said anything to you.”
“So you’re saying … you want to trade?”
That’s when I knew she was lying about Albie’s books. His “ledger,” like she told me. Telling me she never opened them. She’d opened them, all right. And she couldn’t find one thing in there that would pay her a dime.
I just looked at her, waiting.
“How do I know you’re not just saying this?”
“If I can prove that, prove I’m not making it up about a will, you’ll show me Albie’s books?”
“If you can prove it? There’s only one way you could do that, Wilson.”
That’s when I got my idea. I thought about it for a minute. She didn’t move. Then I said, “I need to go out again. I need to make a call.”
“Just stay right where you are,” she said. Then she got off the bed and walked out.
By the time she came back, she had changed into one of those silly outfits you see in gyms all the time. Fit her like blue paint, with white stripes down the sides of the legs. And she had a cell phone in her hand.
“Yes, it’s clean,” she said, handing it to me. She stood there with her hands behind her back, telling me she wasn’t leaving.
Okay.
I dialed Solly again. When I heard the click, I said, “What if I had to prove that there really was this certain paper? Is there any way I could do that without actually holding it in my hand?”
“She’s standing right there, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“Good!” he said. Which surprised the hell out of me. “Ask her, does she know what a partners desk is?”
“Do you know what a partners desk is?” I said.
She just nodded.
“Yes,” I said to Solly.
“Then tell her to go sit on it. Tell her you’ll be there in five minutes.”
I told Rena. I couldn’t read the look on her face, but she turned around and walked out.
Then Solly told me what I had to do.
I walked through the house, cursing myself for always being such a fucking dope. And just when I thought I had played it so smart, too.
See, I knew Rena was sitting on a partners desk. And what I was supposed to do with that desk. Only, I didn’t know where the damn thing was.
I knew where it wasn’t, because I hadn’t seen anything like what Solly described. But I didn’t want to walk through the whole house. It was dark. Maybe she was thinking Solly knew she could hear what he was saying, so he’d used some code. Like “tell her to go sit on it” was really telling me to kill her.
It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to scare her; I was scared of what she’d do if she thought I was coming after her.
“Rena?” I called out. Not loud, but strong enough to carry.
Nothing.
I turned on the TV in the living room. Maybe the sound would tell her where I was.
But then I shut it right off. For once, I wasn’t going to mess something up. If I’m Rena, maybe I think the TV is just a trick. So I could trap her instead of trying to hunt her down.
So I went to