disagreement ramped up into something damaging, she’d be the one smoothing the ruffled feathers. It was a surprise to all of us that she ended up living like a hermit.
From her home office Corinne specialized in developing and testing advanced security systems on contract for banks and Wall Street firms. She could negotiate her way around the Web as well as any hacker.
Her building was a yellow-brick monolith at the corner of Eighth Avenue and Twenty-third. Days went by without her ever knowing whether the sun shone or the rain poured down. Her blinds were always closed. She once said she could tell it was fall because the heating system cranked on. I don’t believe she even owned a proper winter coat. The building’s front entrance was a few steps from the subway, where she could connect to all the services she needed. Right across the street, a Dunkin’ Donuts and Dallas BBQ provided sustenance. She ate a lot of ribs and cherry crullers.
Corinne was as cloistered as any medieval nun.
Sure enough, she answered when the doorman buzzed her.
I had no idea whether the evil chip could read elevations as well as coordinates, so outside the elevator I stuck it into a wad of gum that I fastened under a ledge.
As soon as I stepped across her threshold I was wrapped in a long, enthusiastic embrace. “How are you? I tried to visit you ages ago, but the hospital wouldn’t let anyone near you and you just seemed to vanish after that. I must have tried to call or email a dozen times.” She touched my lip. “Did your mouth get hurt in the accident?”
“Sorry for not getting back to you. I couldn’t face talking to anyone for a long time. I’m better now, physically anyway.” Telling her about the attack would just upset her more.
She gave my hand a squeeze, shooed the cat off a chair in the living room, and offered me a seat. Her cat, a colorpoint Persian, mewed his displeasure. “And now this happening to Hal. I totally caved when I found out yesterday.”
“He got careless I guess,” I said.
“It’s not that hard to do. I’ve seen it enough times. That stuff just rips the shit out of people.”
“I knew you’d be really depressed about it.”
“Well, thanks for coming to see me. I know we don’t get together as often as we used to, but I’m always thinking about you guys.” Corinne’s best feature was her gorgeous brown eyes. Right now they were getting a little teary. “I used to envy Hal, growing up with all that privilege. It always surprised me that he hung around with us.”
I felt a flash of guilt. Had I not been facing this labyrinth of trouble I would have touched base with her right away. I didn’t want to cause her even more distress by telling her the real reason for Hal’s death.
“Can I get you a drink or something?”
“A coffee would be good.”
“Black, right?” She said this as she walked to the kitchen, more a rhetorical question than anything.
When she returned I could see she’d put on a few extra pounds since the last time we’d been together. She’d always been pleasingly plump with ample curves, and had carried it well. Guys found her easy laugh and warmth appealing. It mystified me that she kept herself hidden away like this.
She handed me my coffee and sat on the couch opposite, her mug in her hand. “Do you know anything about arrangements for Hal?”
“No. Apparently the police haven’t released his body yet. So Laurel tells me.”
“How’s she taking it then?”
“Not well. And there are mega problems with the estate to clear up. Both Mina’s and Peter’s.”
Corinne let out a sigh. “That mother of his. She kept him trapped like a fish in a bowl. At her funeral Hal could barely stand, he was so distraught. Incredibly strange, what he did with her. Peter’s in a nursing home now, isn’t he?”
“He’s in really poor shape. Can’t feed himself anymore, doesn’t recognize anyone.”
“At least he won’t know what happened to his son.”
“Yeah. A weird kind of blessing.” I sipped my coffee. “Corrie, there’s something I was hoping you’d help me with. Do you have any time right now?”
“I’m just finishing up some work. How much of a hurry are you in?” “Huge.”
“What’s it about?”
“Some people have been giving me a bad time. They want to get their hands on an artifact that belonged to Samuel and they won’t identify themselves. The only lead I have is an unusual website with a forum about alchemy.”
“Alchemy? You mean black magic, Satanism, that kind of stuff?”
“Not that weird. They’re serious. Apparently the website links to articles about Renaissance and medieval documents that describe esoteric methods to convert base metals into gold.”
She let out a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”
“I know it sounds crazy. But these people are rough. They’ve actually threatened me twice. To make matters worse, Hal was mixed up with them. I’ve only just found this out. And I need to know who they really are.”
“Do they show up on this website?”
“Only through masks and astrological signs. But I do have two names. Eris Haines and George Shimsky.”
“Well, let’s check things out on the screen.”
She asked me to get a kitchen chair and bring it into her study.
In contrast to the homey clutter in the rest of her apartment, her office was spartan. No books anywhere, no files, just a couple of ballpoint pens and some scratch paper. The only exception was a jumble of cat toys on the floor. The cat wandered in behind us. He grabbed a mouse with rips in the fabric and proceeded to claw out the insides, strewing white cotton stuffing everywhere, his yellow eyes fixing on Corinne with a mean glare. She laughed. “He’s just mad at me for making him get off the chair.” The cat began to purr and brushed against my legs. I put my hand down and ruffled his fur.
This amused Corinne even more. “Now he’s trying to make me jealous.”
Three monitors sat on her desk, each with a different screen saver. On one, strains of Bartok played to rain falling gently upon a field of wildflowers; on the next, ocean surf caressed a coral beach. The last monitor showed a forest blazing with autumn colors.
“That’s as close as I ever get to nature,” Corinne joked. She took a seat in a chair so technologically advanced it looked like something you’d see in a fighter jet. “It’s custom-made. Sitting for hours on end does unspeakable things to your back. Now, do you just have names? No birth dates, licenses, anything like that?”
“Only this.” I handed her the business card Colin Reed had given me. “The phone and fax numbers are duds, so the business name probably is too. Other than that, Eris Haines may be an MIT grad and she was fired from the Department of Defense. George Shimsky was a chemist.”
“That should get me started.”
I sat beside her while she searched through sites.
“Okay, I can’t find anything on Haines. There’s a good chance that’s not her real name. Ditto for the company name. Shimsky graduated summa cum laude also from MIT in 1984 at the age of twenty. One year later he had five patents to his credit. Bright boy. Worked for Dow Chemical and FMC. Didn’t appear to last too long at either one. Set up his own consulting company and then disaster hit. Good Lord!”
“What?”
“It says here he was trying to convert metals into gold.” She shook her head. “How freaky can you get? He suffered major physical trauma and stroked out. After that, I can’t find anything on him. What was the website you mentioned?”
“Alchemy Archives dot com.”
She brought up the site and spent a few minutes checking it out. “There’s some interesting stuff here, but it will take me a while to really get into it. Listen, Johnnie, I really do have a damn deadline to meet. Can I get back to you? I’ll make it soon.”
“Sure. It’s great of you to help.”
“I’m here whenever you need me—you know that.”
