The Girl on Prytania Street Page 12

  “Hmm.” The detective gave me a long unimpressed glance and didn’t bother to compliment me as all the other officers on the force typically did. I found it irritating.

  “What is this about?” I asked taking a seat. “I don’t have much time.”

  “Mr. Givens, are you aware that Jay Simmons has been murdered?”

  “What?” My throat grew dry and itchy. “Cindy, some water please.”

  “Right away, Mr. Givens.” The young housekeeper hurried out of the salon and into the kitchen.

  “The prime suspect in your daughter’s disappearance has been killed.”

  “I don’t understand. He was in police custody, wasn’t he? How did this happen?” I thought of Kate and her plan to hire a hit man to knock off the kid. She hadn’t actually carried through with the crazy idea, had she? No. She was going through a rough patch, but murder, she didn’t have that in her, did she?

  “Yes, he was in police custody.”

  “Then what happened?”

  The serious officer studied my face carefully before speaking. “We believe that he was poisoned. Began coughing up blood in the middle of the night. His cellmate began screaming. By the time the guard got to the cell, he was dead.”

  “Then, it was his cellmate?”

  “Not quite, his cellmate has no motive and we haven’t found any evidence linking him to the crime which makes it all the more interesting. We haven’t found any other suspects. Jay Simmons had no enemies, wasn’t involved in any crime aside from the alleged pictures found on his computer. In addition to his death, his apartment was broken into last night. There doesn’t seem to be anything missing. All of the appliances and electronics are still there as are all the other objects that may be of value.”

  The realization of what he was trying to say was coming into focus. “What are you trying to say, Detective Ryan?”

  “You wouldn’t have any information for us, would you, Mr. Givens?”

  “You aren’t implying that I had something to do with this?” My throat was getting drier, tighter as the seconds ticked by. Where was Cindy with that water? She was so incompetent. I made a mental note to give the HR guys a piece of my mind.

  “Well, you do have a motive, don’t you, Mr. Givens?”

  “No, I don’t; I don’t even know the kid. I’ve seen his mug on his social media account, but I’ve never met him in person. Like you always say, innocent until proven guilty, right?”

  “You are a powerful man, Mr. Givens. You’re about to marry one of the richest women in America and have a restaurant that is attracting the attention of celebrities.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything? It’s not a crime to pursue the American Dream, is it?”

  “No, that is not a crime in itself, but the desire for power and the superiority complex that comes with it can result in a crime. Are you saying that you weren’t angered by the pictures we found on his laptop?” He opened his briefcase and took out large black and white shots of the pictures. Zoe, naked and in compromising positions that she should have never been in. My jaw clenched as I numbly stared at the pictures of my daughter. I hadn’t protected her. Maybe Kate was right, maybe this whole thing was my fault. Maybe I had been a lousy father. I looked away unable to stare at the photos any longer.

  Cindy walked in with the pitcher of water and dutifully poured me and the detective each a glass. There was a long pause before I finally spoke. “Of course I was angered. How could I not have been? She was my daughter for crying out loud, but that doesn’t mean I would murder the guy because he was hooking up with Zoe.”

  “Really, Mr. Givens, take a closer look at these photos.”

  “Hey, man, what’s your deal?” I got up from the couch and walked towards the window. I placed my arms against the glass and stared at the expansive skyline. It was so limitless, vast, full of ideas that hadn’t even been thought of yet. This detective clearly didn’t have that perspective. He was limited by what he thought was the truth. I felt his body next to mine. His shadow loomed over me.

  “My deal is getting to the bottom of this case. My deal is finding out the truth and bringing the people responsible for these crimes to justice.”

  I faced him. “Look, I’m a man who lost a daughter. Did thoughts of murdering the suspect ever cross my mind? Yes, they did. Am I sorry that the only suspect in my daughter’s murder case is dead? No. I am not sorry. I am a man who believes in karma, Detective Ryan. Maybe the little bastard deserved to die or maybe he didn’t. I can’t be the judge of that, but I did not have anything to do with his murder.”

  The detective stared at me in that unsettling manner of his but didn’t say anything. “I see and what about your wife? Do you think that she’s capable of murder?”

  “Soon to be ex-wife,” I reminded him.

  “Well?” His deep eyes pierced into mine. “Do you think that she is capable of murder?”

  I stared at the building across the street. A few minutes passed before I could give him an answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Interesting, why do you say that?”

  I turned to face him again. “If you had asked me that question three years ago, I would have said never. The Kate I knew wouldn’t have hurt a fly. She was the gentlest person I ever met, which is why I felt the need to always protect her.”

  “Protect her?”

  “Yeah, you know, we were the “us against the world” dream team. She was too good for the world. I hated seeing assholes take advantage of her, especially the dick she was with before she got with me.”

  “Her ex? Tell me more about him.”

  “Some writer dude, a big shot who screwed with her head for years and got her hooked on cocaine. She was a mess when we met, but she fell for me and got clean. I promised to always be there for her no matter what. We had each other’s backs for almost fourteen years, but then everything changed.”

  “How so?”

  “Zoe disappeared, and we fell apart. Kate became withdrawn, desperate to find Zoe at all costs. I couldn’t keep up man, it got to be too much.”

  “So you gave up on her? Cut her off and started to play house with someone who could offer you more? Is that right?”

  “Gave up? I wouldn’t call it giving up, more like distancing myself in order to maintain my own sanity. I tried everything to help her, she doesn’t want my help or anyone else’s.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She’s not the same anymore. She’s taking these pills that are messing with her mind. They make her say and do stuff that is out of character, things that she normally wouldn’t ever dream of doing. Half of the time she can’t remember the things she’s said and done. There is sober Kate and then there is pill popping Kate. Pill popping Kate has officially taken over and I don’t think the old Kate is coming back.”

  “What kind of pills is she taking?”

  “Some of those high-level painkillers that just about everyone seems to be addicted to. I don’t know the exact brand.”

  “I see. Can you give me an example of how these pills have changed her personality?”

  “Last month she came into my restaurant and Sara went missing from the play area. The entire restaurant staff was in a frenzy to find her. Turns out Kate had taken her into the bathroom. She had locked herself and Sara in a stall and was singing lullabies at the top of her lungs. It took me two hours of groveling and sweet talking before she finally let Sara go on the grounds that I wouldn’t call the cops or press charges. She threatened to flush the baby down the toilet. How messed up is that? What kind of person threatens to flush a one-year-old down the toilet?”

  “I see.” The detective’s face was expressionless as he scribbled something on his notepad. “Were there any other noteworthy incidents that could suggest Kate is capable of plotting a murder?”

  My body tensed. I looked out the window again. I didn’t want to rat Kate out any more than I already had but I couldn’t risk being involved in any type of scand
al. It would be terrible for business. “Well, there is one small thing.”

  “And what is that?”

  “She called me yesterday. She was high, upset that the pictures had been found on the kid’s laptop …”

  “Go on.”

  “I didn’t think much of it at the time, but in light of the recent development, I think there may be something more to it. She wanted me to help her hire a hit man to knock off the kid.”

  “I see,” the detective said. His expression remained unchanged. “And what did you say?”

  “Of course I said no. I told her that there was no way we could do that. Who does that? Who actually hires a hit man? Do hit men really exist aside from the movies? I thought the idea was plain crazy, and I tried to talk her out of it. Despite everything, I don’t want her to get into trouble, end up in jail or worse dead.”

  “Do you think that she went through with it? Hiring someone?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t say. She was going on about a bunch of names she found in some deep web browser. I’m pretty low tech and don’t know much about that stuff. I want to say no with one hundred percent certainty, but I can’t. I want to believe that the old Kate is still in there somewhere, but I’ve been around enough addicts to know that not all stories end happily ever after.”

  “Tell me your experience with addicts, Mr. Givens. Considering your current position and opulence of this place, it’s hard to believe that you’ve had too many struggles.”

  “That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all day. You know my history, why are you asking me these questions?”

  “I know that you moved to New York as a penniless teenager and now here you are one of the richest men in town.”

  “Aww shit, don’t tell me you think I’m dealing or some other wild theory that places me at the center of this murder.”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “My mom was an addict, I grew up on the streets. I vowed never to go near any of the stuff. I made it by working hard. Does that answer your question?”

  “It sounds like quite a stressful situation that you’re in, Mr. Givens, a man with your reputation can’t have a crazy soon to be ex-wife who can’t be trusted, can he?”

  “It’s not ideal, I’ve been trying to convince her to get help. She won’t listen. I know that she’s still furious with me over how things turned out and isn’t afraid to tell me any chance she gets. Last night she trolled the restaurant’s Instagram page and left lewd comments on almost every picture. It took my staff forever to fix the mess. Honestly, I don’t know what else she is capable of. As time passes her anger and inability to give a shit seems to be getting stronger.”

  “How is your fiancée handling your troubled relationship with Kate?”

  “Anita’s a champ. She doesn’t get involved with the drama. She didn’t even react when Kate took Sara. She’s rational and thinks ten steps ahead of us mere mortals. She’s kept me sane through all of the craziness, I can’t imagine my life without her. All she wants is for me to get the divorce papers signed so we can both move on with our lives. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Which is why I’m headed to New Orleans today. You can call me a quitter or whatever, but I’m only doing what any sane man would do, preserving his own sanity.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Givens. I’m headed down there myself,” the detective said closing his notepad and appearing to be satisfied with the outcome of the interview.

  I gave him a grin. “You’re going to talk to Kate? Good luck, man.”

  “Oh, it’s not luck, Mr. Givens.” He gave me a small pat on the back and turned to leave. I watched after him wondering how he was going to be able to get her to construct a coherent sentence.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kate

  I opened one eye and studied the kaleidoscope of patterns on the wall caused by the morning sun slipping through the lace curtains. My body was heavy and lifeless as if weighted down by sacks of potatoes. I struggled to remember what I had done yesterday and eventually flashes of the fake news reporter, fajitas, bearded men, Nigel, and a dead Charlene Dubois came into focus. I glanced at the clock and was horrified to find that it was already 11 a.m. I had to meet Mrs. Dubois for another session soon. I was not looking forward to hearing more about Charlene and what had become of her.

  I thought of Zoe and imagined what she would be doing at this time of day. I pictured her lost in a book dressed in her favorite black t-shirt, the one with the Edgar Allan Poe head, sipping on a strawberry latte. I typically started the day with an image of Zoe alive somewhere doing the things that she loved. I had read somewhere that the power of visualization was very real. I didn’t really buy into that theory, but I figured that I didn’t have much to lose by putting it into practice.

  I opened the mini-bar, took out a water bottle, and popped a pill. I glanced outside and was relieved to see that the media circus was in full swing, but my stalker was nowhere to be seen. Maybe I had imagined him after all. Once I had lost an entire Sunday convinced that there had been a man attempting to break into my apartment. Turns out it had been a balloon whose string had gotten caught in a wire antenna; however, at that time I had been convinced it had been the man’s head and the wires had made up his body.

  “Kate, are you awake?” Madame Queenie’s voice was bright and chirpy.

  I cleared my throat forcing back the residue of margarita mix and pills. “Yes, I’m up. Is anything the matter? The session was supposed to be after lunch, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it will start shortly. I’m trying to get Mrs. Dubois to eat a light lunch before we get started. She hasn’t eaten in days, which is not to her advantage.”

  “I can imagine.” Yesterday was the first full meal I had eaten in years. It was odd, things that were so normal before such as eating, grooming, and managing to get out of bed were now a continual struggle. I had taken normal for granted and now I would have given anything simply to cook a meal for Zoe, do her dirty laundry and yell at her for leaving her books scattered all over the house.

  “Listen Kate, there is someone here to see you.”

  “Is it a blond guy with overly bleached teeth holding a stack of divorce papers in his hand? If it is, tell him to come back another time.”

  “It’s a Detective Ryan,” she said putting an emphasis on the word detective.

  Nerves filled my stomach and my body started to tremble. What did he want? I wasn’t ready to hear any more bad Zoe related news. What if he had found her body? I wouldn’t accept that. I popped another pill, opened the window, and stuck out my head. I had to escape and get far away from there as possible. I looked down, the ground seemed so distant, but I didn’t care. Heights had never bothered me much. I managed to sit on the ledge. My legs dangled wildly in the air, I silently counted to three.

  “Kate, get down from there this minute.” Madame Queenie’s voice was stern. I turned to see her standing in the doorway with a serious expression on her face. I felt like a high school student who had been caught cheating on a test rather than an adult.

  “I’m not a child, you can’t tell me what to do,” I said stubbornly channeling Zoe and the tone she used on me when I was pushing her buttons.

  “Then stop acting like one. You’re a grown woman. Start acting like it.”

  “Who in the world are you?” I was genuinely surprised by her boldness. “You barge into my room unannounced and start bossing me around. I think you’re overstepping your boundaries as the dutiful bed and breakfast owner.”

  I felt her hands take hold of my arm. “If you want to jump, fine, let me help give you a little push. If you want someone to put you out of your misery, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Let go of me!” I screamed.

  “Then get off the ledge and come inside.”

  “I can’t face the detective. I can’t hear what he has to say,” I said quickly hoping that she would understand and maybe even help me escape.

  “Yes, you can. Look at me. Y
ou may feel like you’re alone, but you’re not. There are people who can help you.”

  I got down from the ledge and looked her in the eye. “There is nothing left for me.”

  “I know about your daughter, I know about your husband and your current struggle, Sylvia filled me in on everything. You’re not alone. You may feel like you are, but you aren’t, I promise you. Last year, in this great city of mine, more people died from accidental drug overdoses than from murders for the first time in history. People are medicating themselves because they’re sad. They’re not bad, they’re sad. You are not bad, Kate, you are sad, you are simply very very sad and that is okay, but you have to acknowledge that fact. You think you’re angry but that’s an act, you’re sad. You’re in a black hole. However, you can come out of this black hole, but only if you want to. I’ve seen people in worse situations emerge victorious because they chose to live. Right now you’re choosing death, but if you start to choose life, you’ll grow stronger, I promise. You’re not meant to be this way. You’ll get better. You are not your addiction. You are not your pain. You are not your loss. Those are things that happened to you, they are not you.”

  I shook my head, covered my face with my hands and started to pace the room. A swirl of possible theories and horrible situations swam around in my head and none of them seemed positive. I couldn’t see a solution out of this mess I was in aside from taking my own life. I struggled to remember half of what I had done and said yesterday and the usual gaps in memory emerged. I didn’t want to be a walking zombie, I honestly didn’t.

  “Kate, please stop and look at me.”

  I stopped and peeked at her through my fingers. “What?”

  “You have to take this one step at a time. Put on some clothes and face that detective with pride. Make Zoe proud of her momma.”

  Those were the magic words I needed to hear. If Zoe could see me now, she would have been horrified. She would have classified me as a weak character with no backbone who should have been killed off in the first three chapters of any given book or the first ten minutes of any movie. I wouldn’t have wanted her to see this drug-addled mess. “Okay, I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”