Killer Karma

Apparently not. Despite hard concentration, to his frustration he remained in the garage. Well, there was always the Dunavan Diagonal. He walked out of the garage and trotted skyward. On the way up, he glanced south toward San Francisco General. That trip made a kind of sense. However hit and miss, every successful ziptrip went to a destination he knew. Any place he saw, he certainly knew. So maybe he could zip line-of-sight.

When he had a clear view of the Financial District skyscrapers, he sighted on the dark bulk of the Bank of America building and visualized himself there. Seconds later he stood on the building roof. Sweet! This helped travel a lot…even with multiple jumps being slower than a direct shot. He still wanted to work that out.

The Financial District spread below him, letting him spot and ziptrip to the roof of the 2EC tower, and from there, lope down the side of the building a window he recognized. Bookkeeping.

He passed through the window and crossed toward the door. Everyone looked busy at their work stations, including Mrs. Gao. Cole paused beside Sara’s computer, the only one not turned on, and glanced toward Gao’s back. Even when he replayed Sara’s frightened voice in his head, Gao failed to look dangerous. What if he rattled her cage a little?

He closed his eyes and worked a finger on the power button until he felt the tickle of connection. Then he stepped up against Sara’s shelves to watch the computer boot and check out staff reactions.

No one noticed.

Cole smiled. Okay, then he would play some more.

He brought up a notepad program and started typing.

At the desk behind Sara’s, Joy Quon glanced past her own monitor, then in a double-take, leaned sideways for a better view around it. Her jaw dropped. “Kenisha, look.”

Hayes turned around at her desk in front of Sara’s. When Quon pointed at the monitor, Hayes reached over and swivelled it toward her. After a hop of her brows, she read the message aloud. “‘Gao, Sara told me about Wed nite.’”

That attracted everyone else’s attention, including Gao’s. She bustled back to the desk. “What’s going on?” Seeing the monitor, she frowned. “What’s this about? Who wrote it?”

Cole studied her closely, but detected nothing in her face or voice except annoyance.

“I don’t know,” Quon said. “I didn’t see anyone there.”

Lamper turned his chair to watch through the window of his office. With his narrow shoulders and eyes magnified by his glasses, Lamper looked the epitome of a nerd. His drawn face today accentuated that. Aviator style glasses and the turtleneck he wore with his suit just made him look like a nerd trying to seem cool.

Disbelief filled Gao’s sniff. She shut down the computer shut off, then headed back for her desk.

Cole fished around in the power button once more.

Quon gaped. “The computer’s booting again!”

Gao wheeled in mid-stride. After turning the computer off this time, she stood watching it. As seconds dragged on and the computer remained off, Gao’s lips thinned. She raked Quon and Hayes with a scowl.

Lamper’s phone rang. When he answered, his voice carried to Cole.

Gao turned her scowl on the rest of the staff, all standing and craning their necks to see Sara’s monitor. “If you ladies have had your fun, there’s work to do.”

Cole started to reach for the power button, only to halt at Lamper’s voice. “He’s here to see me?” Lamper’s expression struggled between annoyance and concern. “Tell him I’ll see him in a couple of minutes.” Then he turned back to his computer.

Like boss, like flunky. Shaking his head, Cole trotted out of Bookkeeping and up to the reception area. “Welcome, boys. Lamper will be with you when he thinks it appears he’s squeezing time for you into his very busy schedule.”

Hamada and Razor had taken the chairs he always preferred, those offering a good view of Gina’s legs. She gave them her brilliant smile even with her attention on a phone call. Though she spoke rapid Spanish, Cole caught enough to gather that this was the middle of a conversation to a girlfriend — interrupted by Hamada’s entrance and now resumed — about a date on Saturday. Hung like a what, did she say?

Hamada understood better. He grinned.

Gina saw. She started and quickly ended the call, cheeks reddening.

“I’m sorry,” Hamada said. “I couldn’t help hearing.”

The blush spread from her hairline into the deep vee of her blouse. “You speak Spanish?”

Better than he did Japanese. A result, Cole knew, of a growing up in San Antonio close to the Hispanic community…thanks to the friendship forged in an internment camp between Hamada’s grandfather and a guard named Rafael Navarro.

Gina’s phone rang. After answering, she nodded at Hamada. “Mr. Lamper can see you now. It’s down the hall on the right.”

In his office, Lamper looked across his desk at the seated detectives and regarded Hamada with a politeness that did not quite mask concern…or the usual surprise at the difference between Hamada’s appearance and his voice. “I don’t understand. If Miss Benay can’t be reached through the number I gave you, I fail to see what more I can do. I’m sorry. It must be important if Homicide needs to reach her?”

Standing at the office door, Cole watched Gao. While her eyes remained fixed on her computer monitor, she leaned toward the door, her head cocked…clearly straining to hear. He read no anxiety in her face, though.

Hamada gave Lamper a bland smile. “It would help us to know when Miss Benay told you about her family emergency.”

“She left a voice mail message for my assistant Wednesday night.”

That would be the call to this number. Cole caught Hamada and Razor exchanging glances that only another cop would notice.

“May I speak with your assistant?” Hamada said.

Lamper raised his voice. “Mrs. Gao, will you please come in.”

She came eagerly…and settled in the chair Hamada gave up for her, folding her hands in her lap.

Hamada sat on the corner of the desk that put his back toward the wall. “I’m interested in the voice mail message Miss Benay left. Is it still on your phone?”

“I erased it.” Her voice took on a defensive edge. “There was no reason to save it.”

And every reason to erase it, if Gao were lying about the message.

Hamada said, “How did Miss Benay sound?”

Gao looked puzzled by the question. “Sound?”

“Was she anxious?”

As if she had shot a cop?

Gao considered. “Yes. Which is perfectly normal I think, with a family crisis.”

Cole frowned. If Gao were lying, she was damn good at it.

“When did you last see her?” Hamada asked.

“When she locked the front doors after me at a quarter to six.”

Cole blinked. Gao left? Then she must have come back later. The security camera up front would have recorded it. Was there any chance they still had that footage after four days?

He walked out to Gao’s computer. With luck, no one would notice the activity. He opened a notepad and started work on the message. At the same time, laboring over the keystrokes, he listened to the voices in the office.

“Locked up after you?” Hamada asked.

“Miss Benay worked late.”

Rear vision caught Razor sitting up straighter. “Was anyone else here?”

Thank you, amigo! Check out the dream story. When those facts were corroborated, Razor would have to accept that the two of them really talked.

“Not to my knowledge.” Gao said. “What’s this about? Is Miss Benay in some kind of trouble?”

Cole listened closely to her tone. Was she concerned for Sara…or anxious to determine what the police knew?

Hamada’s face gave away nothing. “She may have witnessed an incident that evening.”

“Then why are you talking to us? Ask Miss Benay. Didn’t Mr. Lamper give you her family’s phone number?”