Shallow Graves

you spoke to was her unde.“
    “That’s right, I think. I mean, I know that’s what I told you, and I’m pretty sure I’m right.“
    “But you never met him or anyone else in her family.“
    “No. Why?“
    “Like I told George downstairs, Mau Tim was connected.“
    “Connected to what?“
    “Tommy the Temper Danucci.“
    “Danucci? The Mafia boss?“
    “Mau Tim, or Tina, was his granddaughter.“
    Lindqvist’s eyes flitted left-right-left. “Oh, God. Oh, my God.“
    “You and Georgie have a half-million policy on the life of a mobster’s favorite offspring.“
    She sagged back in the lounge chair. “But we never... I nobody ever—what do they do, ‘come around’?“
    “They came around. Checked you out discreetly. Thought you looked okay for her. They took a somewhat dimmer view of Oz Puriefoy.“
    “Oz? Why?“
    “Because he’s black.“
    “Oh, God.“ Lindqvist came forward in the lounge. “What about Sinead?“
    “What about her?“
    “She’s living with Oz. I can’t afford to lose another model right now, John.“
    A woman who could keep her eye on the bouncing ball of business. “The family sent an enforcer around to have a talk with him. About a year ago. I don’t see any threat to either of them that way.“
    “That’s good.“ Lindqvist sagged back again, eyes dosed. “That’s a relief.“ Then the eyes opened. “Mau Tim’s... relatives. Will they be looking for a piece of the policy?“
    “They haven’t said anything to me about it.“
    “Should that be a relief, too?“
    “I don’t know, Erica. I don’t work for them. Right now, I’m just trying to work around them.“
    She seemed to think that over. “They’re using you. To find out who killed Mau Tim.“
    “I’d hate to negotiate against you.“
    An attempt at a saucy smile. “You wouldn’t feel a thing. That you didn’t want to, I mean.“
    “You had a key to her place.“
    “What?“
    “Mau Tim’s place. You had a key to her building.“
    “Oh, no. I mean yes, yes to her building, but Mau Tim never—“
    “But Sinead did.“
    “Yes.“ Lindqvist seemed to be trying to measure something else, maybe how much I’d found out from the other people I’d seen. “I guess the owners of her building—Oh, God, that’s the family, right?“
    “Right.“
    “I guess the owners didn’t want keys being given out, but Sinead wanted to be sure that somebody nearby could get into her place if need be. So she gave us a set.“
    Nearby. What was wrong with Yulin’s explanation at the Brookline house finally hit me. “I thought Sinead’s family lives just over in Medford?“
    Lindqvist’s voice turned cautious. “I think that’s right.“
    “Why didn’t she give them a set of her keys?“
    “For all I know she did.“
    Lindqvist didn’t sound convincing. “You ever use your key. Erica?“
    A quick “No.“ Very quick.
    “Where are the keys kept?“
    “Downstairs. In a lockbox.“
    “So George has access to the box as well.“
    A slow “Yes.“ Very slow.
    “George ever make use of that key, as far as you know?“
    “He... he went over to see Sinead once.“
    “Once.“
    “Yes.“
    “Why?”
    “Why once?“
    “Why at all.“
    “George fancies himself a... mentor of sorts.“
    “To the younger models.“
    “Yes.“
    “Male and female?“
    Lindqvist gave me a frosty look this time. “Not that I know of.“
    “I was thinking about him living with Quinn Cotter out in Brookline.“
    “Oh. Oh, that’s purely economics. Or economical, if you want to be specific. George was living beyond his means by quite a lot.“
    “Because the take from the agency isn’t shared fifty-fifty?“
    The frosty look. “I brought more to the agency than George did.“
    “Like the office space.“
    “And I bring more to the agency than he does. I’m the one who breaks her ass pitching accounts to lechers who can’t wait to get through me to get to the girls. I’m the one who creates the market for our models. George sits and plays social director over the telephone.“
    “And makes house calls.“
    “House calls?“
    “Like on Sinead Fagan.“
    “Yes.“
    “But just once.“
    “Yes.“
    “We’re back to why. Erica.“
    Lindqvist seemed suddenly tired. “George thought there was something wrong with Sinead. Something she needed to talk out. He was wrong.“
    “In what way?“
    “She’d already talked it out with me.“
    Sinead and her “quite a lots.“ I said, “Little sister to big