Glass House (28 page)

The interior of Samuel Chilcott’s house was
a spartan wreck. By contrast to Claire Alexander’s packed and
organized existence, Chilcott lived with a television and stand, a
chair, and a couch that lost its legs at some point in its rugged
life. A kitchen was through a door at the back of the main room,
and a second door no doubt led to a bedroom and bathroom, but that
first living area they were in held nothing but those scraps of
furniture, its walls a series of mismatched paint and peeling
wallpaper.

Chilcott sat in the chair. Finn and Megan
both remained standing, passing on the chance to sit, knees under
chins, on the abbreviated couch.

“A lawyer.” Chilcott shook his head and
sounded surprised, maybe even impressed. “Good Christ,” he said
again.

“I know,” Finn replied. He managed a
sheepish smile that was admirable for its level of acting, which
was totally lost on Chilcott. “And I’ve got this case.” Megan’s
eyes flashed on him again, and Finn corrected the statement. “We’ve
got this case.”

“And you think I can help?” Chilcott asked.
Megan wasn’t sure if he was amazed or proud.

Finn started his story. “When the case came
in, I thought I recognized the name our clients gave us. I mean, I
knew I’d heard it somewhere, and I was thinking and thinking on it,
but I just couldn’t come up with where, you know?”

In his chair, Chilcott nodded a
response.

“We were probably in it, what, a month?”
Finn turned to Megan.

“I’d say at least two,” she replied, her
tone indulgent.

“Two months,” Finn agreed. “Then it hit
me.”

“What?” Chilcott asked.

“Sam Chilcott.”

“Me?” He showed both on that one, Megan
decided. Amazement
and
pride.

“Absolutely,” Finn went on. “You were the
one who knew this guy. You were the one who’d mentioned his name to
me, I was sure of it.”

“Who is he?”

“Jeremy Waldoch.”

Chilcott’s eyebrows were big, too. Big and
thick and mostly black, but for a sprinkle of gray. Megan noticed
that as they scrunched a concentrating scowl.

“I don’t ever remember mentioning Waldoch to
you.” The big eyes studied Finn.

“You know him, right?”

“Sure, I know him. I know him fine. I just
don’t ever remember telling you that.”

Megan figured they’d already lost. Finn
overplayed at the start, and Chilcott, regardless of how gullible
he seemed to be, would clam up in response.

“You did, Sam,” Finn persisted. “If it’s the
same Waldoch, that is.”

It was lost on Chilcott that confirming the
person’s specific identity didn’t matter on the question of whether
that name was mentioned. “What’s this one like?” he asked.

“Tall….” Finn checked uncertainly with
Megan.

“Tall,” she echoed. She shook her head in
disbelief. “I’d say tall guy. And big, like you. Across the
shoulders there.” She waved vaguely at Chilcott’s seated, slouching
frame. “Blondy-brown hair. Thin lips. Long nose.”

“And smooth as he could be,” Finn said.
“Carries himself all the time like he’s always certain of what he’s
doing.”

“Sounds like the one I know,” Chilcott said.
“Maybe I did tell you.”

“I’m sure of it. Out in the yard one
day.”

“What do you want with him?”

“He’s a ladies’ man, right? Had a reputation
with the women?”

“I suppose he has a way about him.” Chilcott
looked from Finn to Megan. Up and down on her. Back to Finn.

“Seems he may have had a way with one who
was a little … youngish.” Finn tipped his head toward the other man
and said it softly and on the sly, as though he were sharing
information in the prison yard once more. Megan swallowed hard at
the statement and bit back a protest.

Chilcott straightened some in his chair. His
feet found a firm plant on the floor. “How much youngish?”

“Her folks say fifteen.”

“No shit?” Chilcott leaned forward. His
elbows rested on his knees.

“No shit.”

“Piece of ass,” Chilcott muttered. “Gets you
in trouble every time.”

Megan was forgotten in the room. She didn’t
exist as Chilcott shot Finn a knowing wink and nod. If he could
have reached him, Megan thought, he’d have added a clap on the back
to emphasize the,
Ain’t it always that way
intimation
between the two men.

He remembered her after the look. “I
apologize,” Chilcott offered, not looking sorry at all.

“There’s a baby,” Finn said then. Megan’s
heart was in her throat as the lie deepened and Sam Chilcott sat
farther forward and got wrapped more into the story.

“A
baby
. That sucks for the
boss.”

Megan spoke up at that. “The
boss
?”

“Mr. Waldoch.”

“You work for him?” Finn asked.

“Have before,” Chilcott said. “Will again,
probably. Odd jobs.”

“Odd jobs like what?”

“You know. This and that.”

Finn let it slide. “Well, I …
we
represent the girl’s family. They’re plenty hot about all this, no
surprise, and they want money from Waldoch. Also no surprise. So
when I clicked this name to the guy you talked about back at Hutch,
and I dug around a bit besides, I came up with you, of all
people.”

“Yeah.” Chilcott gave an easy nod, as though
finally confirming suspicions. “Like I said, I’ve worked for him
before. Know a bit about him.”

“So you’re our guy.”

“Appears I am.”

“It’s not just about the baby, though, Sam,”
Finn went on. “We’ll get that figured out. But the issue with this
girl is also that Waldoch gives her a little
bling-bling
thing. You know, something shiny? Something special? A little money
behind it? But he takes it back. And I think that’s what eventually
put me in mind of you and Hutch, with your story about your own
girl and you getting jewelry back from her? Remember?”

Chilcott’s grin was, expectedly given its
source, big. Ear to ear. He sat back.

“Your
pretty little thing
,” Finn
prompted. “That’s it. Right? That’s what you called her.
Remember?”

Chilcott was laughing lightly now, his head
shaking side to side. “My pretty little thing,” he repeated. “You
caught me. Caught me good.”

“Tell me,” Finn said. “Fill me in on what
this is.”

“I worked for him before going to Hutch.
Couple times after I got out, too.”

“And the girl? The one you told me about in
prison?”

“Not my girl.”

“Waldoch’s, I’m guessing?”

“The same. He must’ve pulled the same thing
with your fifteen-year-old. Gave her some goods, then wanted them
back after the fact, so to speak.”

“He’s our guy, then.”

“Sounds like,” Chilcott said. “I’m no
lawyer, but it sure sounds like that’s right.”

“Now tell me something,” Finn said, “when
Waldoch asks you to go to this girl, this particular one you told
me about, and he asks you to collect, what was it he was wanting
back?”

“Bracelet,” Chilcott answered. “Expensive
thing, big diamond in it.”

“When he asks you to collect this bracelet,
what do you do?”

“I get it back.”

“I understand that. Just fine. But how, Sam?
I mean, does she just give it to you?”

“No woman is just giving up a bracelet like
that one,” Chilcott replied seriously. He’d forgotten Megan again
and was once again talking like his ramshackle living room was the
yard at Hutch. “No piece of ass is doing that right out front.”

Megan cringed.

“So,” Finn started, “you had to … convince
her.”

Chilcott brightened. “That’s a fair way to
put it. I had to do some convincing.”

“Which was the story you told us at Hutch.
About why you got your time there.”

“I guess you do remember it right.” Chilcott
chuckled to himself. “I don’t remember mentioning the boss at all,
but I guess you got it.” He looked up at Finn. “This helping
you?”

Finn started to answer, but Megan cut in.
“What about Lora Alexander?” she asked. “Do you know her?”

Chilcott suddenly remembered Megan again.
Any of that
life of the party
look he could manage was gone
at the interruption, and it was Finn he addressed.

“Not a name I recollect.”

“Try harder,” Megan told him. Chilcott
glanced at her again.

“Another pretty one,” Finn said. He
described her from the picture he’d seen at Claire’s.

“Not familiar.” A blunt and immediate
response.

“This one was a necklace,” Finn tried. “A
gold necklace, with diamonds set along the length.” He waited,
watching. “Some of the diamonds were pink.”

Chilcott’s big eyes opened farther, only
slightly, but still enough.

“You remember her,” Finn said.

“Yeah. I do.” Chilcott closed the admission
with a thin and guilty smile he plainly didn’t mean to show.

“What do you remember?” Finn asked.

The big man was quiet for a moment. Whatever
passed for meaningful thought was working behind eyes that were
fixed on a point that Finn and Megan could only guess at. “The boss
liked her,” Chilcott said softly.

“Liked her how?”

“They had some sort of thing going on.
That’s not really rare for him. But this one was a big deal. A
big
deal.”

“And the necklace? Did you collect that one,
too?”

Chilcott was switching from face to face,
one to the other. “How’s this relate?” he said finally. “This
Alexander woman, how’s she fit in with your girl?”

“Pattern,” Megan said. “We line up a bunch
that he’s treated the same way, we trot them all out in a row, and
the threat from it gets big enough to make him want to own up to
supporting a fifteen-year-old’s baby. Like he should, for his
kid.”

Chilcott considered that. In whatever way he
could, he chewed on Megan’s participation in the lie Finn had
started, weighing what little he likely knew about law with the
precious little more he knew about life.

“It was the same deal,” he said. “Same way,
you know? Just the other day.” Chilcott was uncomfortable. He
shifted his frame in the rundown chair. “Went to her, asked for it
back, she said no.”

“You pushed her around a little?” Finn
asked, as friendly and understanding as he could manage in the
circumstances. “Same sort of convincing?”

“Exactly,” Chilcott said. “I convinced her.
She coughed it up.”

“Where was this?” Megan said.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Pattern,” Megan repeated automatically.
“Where was it?”

“Her house,” Chilcott answered quickly.

Megan got a chill that was difficult to
explain. Something more than a hunch, but less than fact. Megan and
Finn stared in silence at the mound of a man sitting in front of
them. They listened without comment as he spoke with growing but
dubious assurance.

“Yeah, it was her house,” he said more
strongly. “Her house, and she was fine when I left it. She was just
fine.”

“What about the necklace?” Finn said. “It
was that one? The gold with the diamonds, some of them pink?”

“That was the one, yeah. Some of them pink.
I gave it back to the boss, and I never saw it again.”

“You took it then? At her house?”

“Sure, I took it then. Course. Sure.” Face
to face, looking from Finn to Megan and back. “How’s this relate?
What’s this girl’s name, this client of yours?”

Finn didn’t hesitate. “Susanna.” It was his
mother’s name, the only one that came to him. “Susanna Walton. You
don’t happen to know her, too, do you?”

The name and the implication in the question
that came with it shut Chilcott down. “No,” he said. “Not that
one.”

Finn forced a smile. “Too bad. I was
thinking you might be our big break.” He turned to Megan. “We
should move on.”

“Absolutely.”

They headed to the door. Chilcott, unmoving,
stayed in his chair.

Finn had the door open, and Chilcott still
hadn’t made a sound. He was staring at their backs, fingertips at
his lips.

“At her house, right?” Finn asked him,
looking back.

“At her house what?”

“Lora Alexander. Getting the necklace
back.”

Chilcott looked away this time. “Sure,
Finn,” he said. “At her house.”

Any ability Finn had even to force a smile
was gone. “Good to see you again,” he lied. “Thanks for the help.”
He followed Megan out the door.

_______________

“Your colleague?” Megan said as she was
opening the car door. She got in, reached across and popped the
lock on Finn’s side.

“I could’ve made you a legal assistant.” He
sat and shut the door. “He’s got an issue with women, remember? I’m
guessing it might be a bigger issue if he realized you were the one
wanting the information and that, oh by the way, you once happened
to be in the profession of putting people in jail.”

Megan didn’t respond to that. “Claire
Alexander told us her daughter was wearing that diamond necklace on
the day she died,” she said instead. “Had it when she left the
house, and it hasn’t been seen since.”

“She did say those things.”

“And your friend Slammer Sam in there? My
client’s sometime employee? He says he took it back from her, but
he did it at her house, and he offered up that she was just fine
when he left, even though we hadn’t asked about that.”

“He did say those things, too. And there’s
even more besides.”

Megan didn’t know what more there possibly
could be. “What?” she asked.

“The documents from Claire. I had a chance
to look through them a little on the way here. They look like
assays. You know what an assay is?”

She shook her head. “No idea.”

“It’s an analysis. Written, maybe with
pictures. An assessment of production, usually.”

“Production of what?”

“In this case? Diamonds, I think. It looks
like Lora Alexander had a map and a collection of documents related
to production of diamonds from some mines in South Africa.” Finn
tapped the envelope, resting on the bench seat between them. “Any
idea why she’d have that?”