“You all right?”
“Well,” she said, “I’ve got thinner blood. Unfortunately, nothing else got thin. So what can I do for you, darling?”
I told her.
“Department of Corrections,” she said. “Haven’t had much to do with those yokels in a long time. Not since I consulted to Sybil Brand. Back then they had some state grants for therapy, but that was all for inside the prison, helping inmates with kids learn to be good mothers. Good idea, but the oversight was pathetic. Never heard about an outside project such as you’re describing.”
“It may not exist,” I said.
“And you’re asking about this because . . .”
“Because it may relate to some murders.”
“Some murders,” she said. “Ugly stuff?”
“Very ugly.”
“You and Milo . . . how’s he doing, by the way?”
“Working hard.”
“He’ll always be doing that,” she said. “Well, I’m sorry nothing comes to mind but just because I haven’t heard about it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I’ve been teaching, have kind of lost touch with the divine world of public monies . . . what you’re describing could be a pilot study, let me fire up my Mac and see . . . okay, here goes, click click click . . . can’t seem to find any pilot postprison rehab therapy studies from NIH or HHS or . . . the state . . . maybe it’s private . . . no, nothing on that list, either. So maybe it was approved as a full-term grant, not a pilot.”
I said, “You might want to check under ‘Sentries for Justice,’ and if that doesn’t work, I’ve got some other buzzwords for you.”
“Give them to me.”
“ ‘Synergy,’ ‘demarginalization,’ ‘attitudinal shifting,’ ‘holistic interplay—’ ”
“That sound you’re hearing in the background is Mr. Orwell groaning.”
I laughed. Waited. Listened to Olivia humming and muttering to herself.
“Nothing,” she said, finally. “Not on any databases I can find. But not everything makes it into the computer in a timely fashion, there are good, old-fashioned printed lists. I don’t keep them here, have to go over to the main office. Which is locked for the night . . . give me some time, darling, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Olivia.”
“You’re more than welcome. Come over sometime, Alex. Bring Allison. Is she a vegetarian or something like that?”
“On the contrary.”
“Oh, lucky you,” she said. “Then definitely bring her over. I’ll marinate some skirt steaks, my skirt steaks are famous. You bring Allison and some wine. I could use some adorable people in the house.”
*
Six-thirty. Milo called me from his desk.
“Jerry Quick’s CPA was cagey, but I managed to get a few things out of him. First of all, I got a clear impression Quick is not a big-money client. Secondly, Quick’s income comes in spurts, he’s got no regular income coming in, just whatever deals he can close, and the CPA never sees the checks, just writes down what Jerry tells him. His main gripe was that Jerry’s income was unstable, so establishing estimated tax was a hassle.”
“Not a big-money client,” I said. “How’s he’s been doing recently?”
“Couldn’t get the guy to spill specifics, but he did say Quick was late to pay his bill.”
“Same thing Sonny Koppel complained about, so maybe Quick’s living on the edge. House in Beverly Hills, a Mercedes, albeit one that’s a few years old. Appearances are important. Toss in Gavin’s medical bills, and there’d be pressure.”
“Sure,” he said. “It would explain Quick getting into something iffy and lucrative. But what it doesn’t explain is why would Sonny and the others want him involved? Guy’s a middling metals dealer. What could he offer?”
“Guns are metal.”
“From therapy to guns? A burgeoning crime syndicate?”
“It’s just what came to mind,” I said. “Dealers like to deal. Quick travels around buying scrap. Don’t police departments scrap confiscated weapons?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Anything’s possible, but there’s still nothing to connect Quick or anyone to therapy mischief, let alone arms mischief. And I still can’t locate the bastard. I got hold of his home phone records, but there’re no calls to any airlines. No travel-related stuff of any kind. Couldn’t find any business phone, so I asked Sheila about it. She said he uses prepaid cells. Which is just what you’d do if your business was shady. Meanwhile, Sheila still has no idea where he is. So maybe you were right and he is on the lam.”