“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I will be greatly surprised if these rumors and accusations prove to be true. I suspect Christine is the unfortunate victim of idle gossip.”
Okay. That makes me feel a little better.
Until I call Christine.
“Hey,” I say when she answers the phone.
“Hey.” She doesn’t sound very cheery.
“You busy?”
“Sort of.”
“Ceepak and I need to talk to you again.”
“Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are all these people calling me?”
“What people?”
“Let’s see. The Bollendorfs. The Crabtrees. Janet Malone. Addie Galloway. All the people whose parents I worked for before I went to work for Dr. Rosen.”
“Well …”
“Did you really ask Jodi Bollendorf if her dad died ‘under mysterious circumstances?’”
I sigh into the phone. “It’s my job, Christine.”
“To do what? Ruin my life?”
“No. Find out the truth.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“Yes. I think you are.”
“You
Okay. Bad choice of words.
“Can you swing by the police station and talk to us?” I say. “Or, if you like, we can come back to my apartment and …”
She cuts me off. “The police station.”
“Great. Say in half an hour?”
“No. My lawyer can’t be there till three.”
“Your lawyer?”
“Harvey Nussbaum.”
“You hired a lawyer?”
“It is her right to consult with an attorney,” says Ceepak, who’s, of course, listening to my side of the conversation. “And to have that attorney present during questioning.”
Great. My partner’s giving
“Okay,” I say. “Three o’clock. Bring Harvey.”
“Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“I thought we were …”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
And she hangs up in my ear.
44
So, we have a few hours to track down Revae Dunn.
She works as the office manager at a place called “The Garden State Reproductive Science Center,” about half a mile away from Mainland Medical in Avondale.
It’s a very medical-looking building. Lots of dark windows and sterile stucco walls. The islands of grass sprinkled around the asphalt parking lot look like they get manicured instead of mowed. As we pull into a visitor parking spot, I notice that Michael has been even more generous to Revae Dunn than her sister.
In a parking slot “Reserved For Office Manager,” I see a bright red Jaguar XKR convertible. Those kitty cats cost over a hundred thousand dollars. That’s right. More than some houses.
“Michael Rosen sure likes the Dunn sisters,” I mumble as we climb out of Ceepak’s car, which, all of a sudden, doesn’t seem all that super dooper any more.
“Indeed,” says Ceepak, admiring the convertible. “And judging by their vehicles, I believe Revae is his favorite.”
Revae Dunn agrees to talk to us.
“For five minutes. We’re very busy.”
We’re in her nice, gray-on-gray-carpeted office. She’s dressed in a crisply starched linen business suit the color of a dove. Her hair is perfectly coiffed. Her earrings match her necklace, which matches her bracelet. The woman has style.
“Ms. Dunn,” says Ceepak, “given your rigid time constraints, kindly allow me to be blunt: Why did the wealthy Hollywood producer Michael Rosen buy you a Jaguar convertible worth well over one hundred thousand dollars?”
“Who said he did?”
“Me. We know that Dr. Rosen also purchased a car for your sister Monae and, at your insistence, procured her a position as a home health aide at Dr. Arnold Rosen’s home in Sea Haven.”
“Who are you again?”
“John Ceepak. Chief of Detectives. Sea Haven PD. This is my partner, Detective Boyle.”
Revae Dunn glances at her wristwatch.
“I believe we still have four more minutes,” says Ceepak.
“Look, detectives. What we do here at this clinic needs to be treated with the utmost confidentiality.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Why has Michael Rosen been so generous to you and your sister?”
“I asked him to look after Monae as a favor to me. She’s fifteen years younger than I am. Mom and Dad called her their ‘whoops baby.’ I suppose I tend to mother-hen her. Anyway, a year or so ago, she was drifting. Living with me or our brother. She had no direction or goals. Finally, I encouraged Monae to take a class and obtain her home health aide license. It took a lot of effort-on my part and hers, but she did it. She was qualified to start a real career with a potential for growth. However, that did not mean her struggles were over. Like many young women of color, she had trouble finding employment. So I lent her a hand. Used my connections.”
“With the Rosens?”
“That’s right.”
“And so we come back to my original question: Why has Michael Rosen been so generous and helpful to you and your family?”
“Because we, here at the clinic, have been extremely helpful to him and his family.”
“How so?”
“Dr. Rosen’s only grandson. Michael’s sole nephew. We had a hand in that. Fifteen years ago, Dr. Rosen paid for his daughter-in-law to undergo certain fertility treatments.”
“Were you here at the time?”
“Yes. Judith Rosen and her husband, I believe his name is David …”
“That’s correct.”
“They had been trying to get pregnant with no success for several years. Judith was rapidly approaching her fortieth birthday.”
“So her biological clock was ticking.”
“Very loudly. Plus, her father-in-law, Dr. Rosen, desperately wanted grandchildren. So, after several
