Three Fates

much. Thank you for the water,” she said to the assistant and hurried to the elevator. She bit the inside of her cheek until it hurt, kept right on biting until she’d gotten to the main showroom and out the door.
    New Yorkers were too used to lunatics to pay any attention to a drably dressed blonde giggling hysterically as she ran down the sidewalk.
     
     
    “YOU WERE BRILLIANT.” Malachi all but hoisted her into the back of the van, then caught her in a rib-crushing hug. “Bloody brilliant.”
    “I was.” She couldn’t stop the giggles. “I really was. Even though I nearly wet my pants when Anita spoke to me. Then I thought, if I can just get into her office for a minute, I can put the last little mike there. But I kept wanting to laugh. Nervous reaction, I suppose. I just . . . somebody shut me up.”
    “Happy to.” Malachi closed her mouth with his.
    “If you kids would settle down, you might want to hear this.”
    Jack switched the audio on, took off his headphones.
    “. . . understand what a police detective might want with me. Would you like some coffee?”
    “No, thanks, Ms. Gaye, and we appreciate your time. It concerns a property you owned, a warehouse just off Route Nineteen, south of Linden, New Jersey.”
    “Detective, my husband owned a number of properties, which I inherited . . . Oh, you said ‘owned.’ I recently sold a New Jersey property. My lawyers and accountants handle most of those details. Is there some problem with the sale? I haven’t heard anything to indicate it, and I know the deal was finalized earlier this month.”
    “No, ma’am. No problem that I’m aware of.” There was a slight rustling sound, a pause. “Do you know this man?”
    “He doesn’t look familiar to me. I do meet a lot of people, but . . . no, I don’t recognize him. Should I?”
    “Ms. Gaye, this man was found inside the warehouse in question. He was murdered.”
    “Oh my God.” There was a creak as Anita sat. “When?”
    “Time of death is often hard to determine. We believe he died very close to the date you sold the warehouse.”
    “I don’t know what to say. That property hasn’t been in use for . . . I’m not completely sure. Six months, perhaps eight. This should have been brought to my attention. I’ll have to contact the buyers. This is dreadful.”
    “Ms. Gaye, did you have access to the building?”
    “I did, of course. My representative was given all the keys and security codes, which would have been turned over to the purchasers. You’ll want to contact my real estate representative, of course. Let me have my assistant get you his information.”
    “I’d appreciate it. Ms. Gaye, do you own a gun?”
    “Yes. Three. My husband . . . Detective.” Another pause, longer. “Am I a suspect?”
    “These are just routine questions, Ms. Gaye. I assume your three guns are registered.”
    “Yes, of course they are. I have two at home, one in my office, one in my bedroom. And I keep one here.”
    “It would help if you’d turn the guns over to us, for elimination. We’ll issue a receipt.”
    “I’ll arrange for it.” Her voice was stiff now, and frigid.
    “Could you tell us where you were on September eighth and September ninth?”
    “Detective, it’s beginning to sound as if I should contact my lawyer.”
    “That’s your right, Ms. Gaye. If you want to exercise that right, I’ll be happy to interview you, with your attorney, down at the station. The fact is, I’d just like to cross my t’s here and let you get back to work.”
    “I’m hardly going to be dragged into the police station to be questioned about the murder of a man I don’t even know.” There was the slapping sound of paper against paper as she flipped through her desk calendar.
    She rattled off times, appointments, business and personal time. “You can verify most of this with my assistant or, if need be, my domestic staff.”
    “I appreciate that, ma’am, and I’m sorry to bother you. I know it’s upsetting.”
    “I’m not used to being questioned by the police.”
    “No, ma’am. Case like this, you’ve got to look at all the angles. It’s a puzzler why this guy would go all the way out to New Jersey to get shot. And in that building. Well. Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Gaye. Some place you got here. First time I’ve been inside. Some place,” he reiterated.
    “My assistant will show you out, Detective.”
    “Right. Thanks.”
    There were footsteps, the sound of a door