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Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Jonathan Kellerman
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. CHAPTER
  6. CHAPTER
  7. CHAPTER
  8. CHAPTER
  9. CHAPTER
  10. CHAPTER
  11. CHAPTER
  12. CHAPTER
  13. CHAPTER
  14. CHAPTER
  15. CHAPTER
  16. CHAPTER
  17. CHAPTER
  18. CHAPTER
  19. CHAPTER
  20. CHAPTER
  21. CHAPTER
  22. CHAPTER
  23. CHAPTER
  24. CHAPTER
  25. CHAPTER
  26. CHAPTER
  27. CHAPTER
  28. CHAPTER
  29. CHAPTER
  30. CHAPTER
  31. CHAPTER
  32. CHAPTER
  33. CHAPTER
  34. CHAPTER
  35. CHAPTER
  36. CHAPTER
  37. CHAPTER
  38. CHAPTER
  39. CHAPTER
  40. CHAPTER
  41. CHAPTER
  42. CHAPTER
  43. CHAPTER
  44. CHAPTER
  45. CHAPTER
  46. CHAPTER
  47. CHAPTER
  48. CHAPTER
  49. CHAPTER
  50. CHAPTER
  51. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  52. Copyright

Helga Gemein’s look said if you needed to ask, you didn’t deserve to know. “The Kraeker is a performance art gallery scheduled to be built in Basel by the year 2013. My plan is to submit a proposal for heat and light sustainability that would synchronize with the art itself. Des asked to be assigned to the preliminary drawings. Obviously, a project of that scope would help his career.”

“But it never got that far.”

“That is not clear. Once I clean up the mess my partners have left me, I may very well assemble another team. Returning to Europe will be a welcome change.”

“Had enough of L.A.”

“Quite.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about Des that could be helpful?”

“His sexual appetite was conspicuous.”

Milo blinked. “By conspicuous, you mean—”

“What I mean,” said Helga Gemein, “is that Des was highly motivated toward maximal screwing. Was his death sexual in nature?”

“How do you know that about him, ma’am?”

“If you’re asking, in that peculiarly prudish American way, if I speak from personal experience, the answer is no. My information comes from the other women who worked here. Each of them discovered that Des had requested to screw her.”

“Requested?”

“Des was polite. He always said ‘please.’”

“You didn’t fire him?”

“Why would I?”

“That’s pretty blatant workplace harassment.”

“Policeman,” she said, “one can only be harassed if one contextualizes herself as helpless. Everyone said yes. Des is a handsome man. In an immature way.”

“How exactly did you learn about all this, Ms. Gemein?”

“That is a voyeuristic question.”

“My job can get that way.”

She touched a hemp earring. “There was a staff meeting. Des was away from the office on something or another and Judah Cohen was in Milan, so no men. If you knew anything about women, you’d know that, plus alcohol loosens tongues. One of them had seen another go off with Des after work and wondered out loud. It didn’t take long to compare notes. Everyone agreed he was attentive and reasonably endowed, but lacking in creativity.”

I said, “How many women are we talking about?”

“Three.”

“Four women at the meeting, but only three were propositioned.”

“If you are asking in that American way if I am homosexual, I am not. Though I am not opposed to homosexuality on moral grounds. Why did I not screw Des? He did not appeal to me.”

“He never came on to you?”

Blinking, she caressed the top of her head. “We maintained a professional relationship.”

Milo took out his pad. “Could I please have the other women’s names?”

Helga Gemein smiled. “I will talk slowly: Number one, Sheryl Passant, our receptionist.” Waiting until he’d copied. “Number two, Bettina Sanfelice, a dull girl who served as an intern. Number three, Marjorie Holman.”

“Your former partner.”

“Correct.”

“Des didn’t see the need for a professional relationship with her.”