Shallow Graves

that had been in the air before he interrupted us.
    “Mr. Cuddy, I can give you only a few minutes.“
    I stood. “A few minutes should do it.“
    Dani looked at his secretary for a moment, then just said, “Rita, hold all my calls.“
    “Yessir.“
    His office was rectangular, but some sort of shaft for the building’s structural integrity ran at a diagonal to the ceiling, creating a lean-to effect on that side of the room. The opposite surface was more standard, covered with framed prints of grouse, pheasant, and quail. At least there were no polo fields or yacht basins.
    Outside his window, six other skyscrapers eclipsed most of the horizon. His view between them was a thumbprint of Boston Harbor and a hundred yards of Logan Airport runway.
    Dani settled behind a cherry desk with Scandinavian lines. The credenza, desk chair, and both client chairs were of the same grained wood, the third hue in the Oriental rug beneath us picking up the cherry color. The underlying wall-to-wall carpeting that continued in from the hall was beige, as were his lowboy file cabinets and shelving. He had a personal computer on the credenza, not much of anything beyond a telephone complex and pen set on the desk.
    Dani looked at me, the hair thin and the eyes sharp but the face expressionless, again the only emotional part of him his lips, which twitched a little. Dressed impeccably in another Brooks Brothers suit, this one gray with a houndstooth pattern, he gave the impression of a man who had seriously considered a hair transplant only to decide, rightly, that it would make him look silly.
    “Well, Mr. Cuddy?“
    “I’ve been out to the building. Your cousin and I did a walkthrough, and I have a couple of questions.“
    “Ask them.“
    “How many people have a key to Mau Tim’s apartment?“
    Even his lips suggested he expected that one. “I wouldn’t know. She wasn’t supposed to give them out.“
    “To your knowledge, who has a key?“
    “Certainly Cousin Ooch. Perhaps the downstairs tenant— they were good friends.“
    “Her agents?“
    “The modeling agency? Perhaps, but I don’t see why.“
    “Her current boyfriend?“
    “If she had one. Or more than one. As I told you before, I really didn’t know much about her social life.“
    “How about you?“
    The lips danced. “Me?“
    “Yes. You’re a trustee of the building, right?“
    “I am a trustee in a paperwork sense, yes. But Ooch would take care of all the... on-site matters.“
    “You have any keys to the building?“
    A pause. “I imagine I must have a front door key somewhere.“
    “How about the second floor?“
    That stopped the lips cold. “The second floor?“
    “Yes. The guest suite or whatever you call it.“
    Vincent Dani stared at me, then said, “What does that have to do with a burglary on the third floor?“
    “Probably nothing.“
    Dani’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His silence was interrupted by a tap-tap-tap on the office door. I turned halfway to see a man lean across the threshold. His hair was that maize color blond turns to when most of us just get gray. He wore round wire spectacles and a jaunty bow tie on a white shirt so starched it rode his chest like body armor. I bet myself that his first name would be a last name.
    “Vincent, terribly sorry to disturb you, but I’m just back from Washington and now off to London and I did want to congratulate you on joining the partnership.“
    The man’s voice was as crisp as the starch in his shirt, the crackle of a no-nonsense. North Shore Yankee.
    “Uh, oh, thank you, Whit. I appreciate your support.“
    “Support well deserved, Vincent, well deserved.“ Old Whit seemed to make the next statement for my benefit. “Contributions like yours cannot go unnoticed. Or unrewarded.“
    Dani was uncomfortable about Whit loitering in his doorway. For his part, Whit seemed to be reminded of something by his last comment. The man looked to the right outside Dani’s door and then spoke more softly. “I believe this is Charlie’s last day… “
    “Thanks, Whit, I’ve already had the chance to wish him well.“
    “Right. Right then. In that case. I’ll be off.“
    Old Whit sent a smile and a nod my way and I’m sure had forgotten about me by the time he’d taken ten steps.
    Dani was coming back to me when I said, “Charlie the guy next door?“
    “Uh... yes.“
    “A little young for retirement.“
    “He’s not retiring. He’s... leaving the