“He is a little unusual,” I conceded. “I find it peculiar he was so vividly aware of Beryl. She was one of a very large number of people through that place every day. She was coming in what? Once a month, maybe less?”
He nodded. “But she stood out like a neon sign to him. Could be perfectly innocent. Then again, maybe not.”
I recalled what Mark had said about Beryl’s being “memorable.”
Marino and I sipped our coffees in silence, darkness settling over my thoughts again. Mark. There had to be some mistake, some logical explanation for why he wasn’t listed with Orndorff & Berger.
Perhaps his name had been left out of the directory or the firm had recently become computerized and he was improperly coded, and his name didn’t come up when the receptionist keyed it into her computer. Maybe both receptionists were new and didn’t know many of the lawyers. But why wasn’t he listed in Chicago at all?
“You look like something’s eating you,” Marino finally said. “Been looking like that ever since I got here.”
“I’m just tired,” I answered.
“Bullshit.” He sipped his coffee.
I almost choked on mine when he said, “Rose told me you skipped town. You have a productive little chat with Sparacino in New York?”
“When did Rose tell you that?”
“Don’t matter. And don’t go getting hot at your secretary,” he said. “She just said you had to go out of town. Didn’t say where, who, or what for. The rest of it I found out on my own.”
“How?”
“You just told me, that’s how,” he said. “Didn’t deny it, did you? So what did you and Sparacino talk about?”
“He said he talked to you. Maybe you should tell me about that conversation first,” I answered.
“Nothing to it.”
Marino retrieved his cigarette from the ashtray. “He calls me the other night at home. Don’t ask me how the hell he got my name and number. He wants Beryl’s papers and I’m not about to hand them over. Maybe I would have been more inclined to be more cooperative, but the guy’s an asshole.
Started giving orders, acting like King Tut. Said he’s the executor of her estate, started threatening.”
“And you did the honorable thing by sending the shark to my office,” I said.
Marino looked blankly at me. “No. I didn’t even mention you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. The conversation lasted maybe three minutes. That was it. Your name didn’t come up.”
“What about the manuscript you listed in the police report? Did Sparacino ask about it?”
“He did,” Marino said. “I didn’t give him any details, told him all her papers was being processed as evidence, gave him the usual about not being at liberty to discuss her case.”
“You didn’t tell him the manuscript you found was receipted to my office?” I asked.
“Hell, no.”
He looked strangely at me. “Why would I tell him that? It isn’t true. I had Vander check the thing for prints, stood there while he did it. Then I took it back out of the building with me. It’s in the property room with all her other shit even as we speak.”
He paused. “Why? What did Sparacino tell you?”
I got up to refill our coffee cups. When I returned, I told Marino everything. When I was finished, he was staring at me in disbelief, and there was something else in his eyes that thoroughly unnerved me. I think it was the first time I had ever seen Marino scared.
“What are you going to do if he calls?” he asked.
“If Mark does?”
“No. If the Seven Dwarfs does,” Marino said sarcastically.
“Ask him to explain. Ask him how he can work for Orndorff & Berger, ask him how he can live in Chicago when there’s no record of it.”
My frustration was mounting. “I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out what the hell is really going on.”
Marino looked away, his jaw muscles flexing.
“You’re wondering if Mark’s involved … tied in with Sparacino, involved in illegal activities, crime,” I said, barely able to put into words this chilling suspicion.
He angrily lit another cigarette. “What else am I supposed to think? You haven’t seen your ex-Romeo for more than fifteen years, haven’t even talked to him, heard a word about his whereabouts.