Jonathan Kellerman: Obsession

“Adult genre wasn’t for you.”

“Not really.”

Petra said, “But you hooked up with Mary.”

Fisk said, “It started off as a training thing. I got her into advanced stretching, light weights, balance and posture. Cardio she already did on her treadmill. She’s in great shape for forty-seven.”

Mary Whitbread’s stats put her at fifty-three.

Petra said, “She is a very attractive woman, Robert. So the two of you developed a sexual relationship.”

“Not really,” said Fisk.

“Robert, we found you guys in bed.”

“There was sex but it wasn’t primarily sexual.”

“What was it?”

“Intimacy. Being friendly.”

“But that did include a sexual relationship.”

“Depends on what you mean by relationship.”

Milo muttered, “This guy should run for president.”

Raul Biro said, “We’re defining it as you fucked her.”

Long pause. “That happened. Occasionally.”

Biro leaned in. “Is there some reason you’re ashamed of that, dude?”

“No, she’s…no, I’m okay with it.”

“What?” pressed Biro.

Fisk didn’t answer.

“Something go wrong in that department?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” said Fisk. “She’s older, that’s all.”

“Hey,” said Petra, “age is arbitrary.”

“That’s what she said.”

“You and Mary became intimate and you came to see her tonight.”

“We didn’t see each other in a while, she said she was making a vegan dinner, tempeh and tofu. I got her into vegan, sometimes we went to Real Food Daily.”

Milo said, “Ah, the pitfalls of tragic love.”

Petra said, “Mary had you hang with Blaise so…”

“He wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“It wasn’t dope Mary was worried about, was it, Robert? She was concerned about some really bad stuff. She knew about other crimes Blaise had committed.”

Silence.

“Robert, we got you the juice and the PowerBar and we even bought some extra bottles, which are right outside if you get thirsty again. But you’ve got to hold up your end. Let’s not forget: Those were your prints on Lester Jordan’s windowsill. If Blaise tells another story, that makes it your word against his and we’ve got to follow the evidence. But if we knew Blaise had a history of violence, that would change things.”

“Let me ask you,” said Fisk. “Again, theoretically.”

“Sure.”

“Knowing about something isn’t a crime, right?”

“Not if you had nothing to do with the crime.”

“That fingerprint, Detective Connor, it could happen any kind of way. Maybe I walked by there another time and touched it. Maybe Blaise got one of my prints and stuck it there. Or someone made a mistake, that happens, right?”

Petra smiled. “Anything’s possible, Robert. But even flawed evidence is better than none.”

Fisk said, “I can tell you more important stuff than what happened to Lester. But all I know is what Blaise said. I was never there.”

“What kind of important stuff?”

“Mary knew, too. You’re right, that’s why she hired me.”

Milo said, “Intimacy goes the way of all bullshit.”

Petra said, “Anything you can say to help us-and yourself-would be appreciated, Robert.”

Fisk sucked in his breath. Stared at the empty wax cup he’d drained five times. “I’m thirsty again.”

Petra sat back, crossed her legs.

“Detective Connor, all I know is what Mary told me. She said Blaise killed some guys over dope, they tried to cheat him because he was young, fifteen, sixteen. They figured he’d be too scared to fight back, so he shot them.”

“Names?”

“She said one was Lester’s friend and Lester didn’t like that, woulda slapped Blaise around but he got scared Blaise would shoot him, too.”

“Bunch of anonymous dope guys,” said Raul.

“Don’t know any names. She said he also killed some girls ,” said Fisk. “Two girls, used to live on top of them. Mary knew Blaise did it, probably with some guy he used to run with, but she couldn’t prove it.”

“Yet another anonymous guy,” said Petra.

“Some tweaker,” said Fisk. “Sold smack for Blaise and Blaise gave him speed.”

“Why’d Mary figure the two of them were involved?”

“The guy showed up in a van one night, late, packed stuff with Blaise.”

“Stuff,” said Petra.

“Garbage bags. Mary thought maybe bodies, she was scared,” said Fisk.

“But she never told anyone except you.”

“Scared,” Fisk repeated.

“Where’s this pal of Blaise’s?”

“Dead, O.D.’d. Right on their street, Mary figured he came by to score from Blaise, shot up and dropped.”

Raul said, “Another anonymous addict bites the dust.”

Fisk squirmed in his chair. “Don’t you want to hear about those girls ?”

Petra said, “Sure, why not.”

“Actresses,” said Fisk. “Adult genre.”

“Why did Blaise kill them?”

“Because he’s insane.”

Petra scrawled in her pad. “No-name dope guys, no-name porn actresses, no-name tweaker. Quite a list.” She looked up. “Anything else?”

“That’s all I know-heard about.”

“How many years ago did these girls supposedly get killed?”

“Way before I met Mary. Ten, fifteen years, I don’t know.”

“Mary never told anyone.”

“She’s scared of him,” said Fisk. “He used to look at those girls and yank himself. She caught him, out in the garage. Instead of apologizing, he tells her she doesn’t stop bugging his privacy, he’ll hurt her.”

“He threatens his mommy-your intimate friend,” said Petra. “You hang with him anyway?”

“With me, he’s respectful.”

Milo said, “This guy’s brain -dead.”

Petra said, “Must’ve been fun hanging with someone like that.”

“No, ma’am, it wasn’t.”

“Blaise ever talk to you directly about any of these alleged murders?”

“Never,” said Fisk, too quickly. “He bragged about other stuff. Being a big-time music producer.”

Petra said, “Mary knew he’d murdered two girls a long time ago, waits years later to hire you to watch over him? Why would she do that unless she knew about other murders he’d done in the interim?”

Fisk didn’t answer.

“Robert, what else has Blaise De Paine done?”

“Never seen or heard anything. I swear.”

“Okay, let’s talk about Moses Grant.”

“Can I have more juice?”

“First tell us about Grant.”

“The night Blaise killed Lester, Mosey drove, he was waiting on the street, in the car. Blaise had him park it around the corner.”

“The Hummer.”

Nod. “Blaise gets back in, brags to Mosey about what he just did. Mosey thinks Blaise is kidding. Blaise screams at him, I’m serious, asshole. Mosey looks at me like, No way, right? I don’t answer. Mosey’s hands start shaking, he starts driving, goes through a stop sign, we almost crash into another car. Blaise is screaming, Pay attention, asshole. Mosey makes himself calm down but he’s different after that.”

“How so?”

“Watching out the side of his eye, not eating so much, not sleeping great.”

“Despite that, he kept hanging with you and Blaise.”

“He thought Blaise was going to hook him up with Puffy, Dr. Dre, Russell Simmons.”

“Blaise has those kinds of connections?”

“Mosey believed he did.”

“Blaise was stringing Mosey along,” said Petra.

Nod. “So Mosey’d drive and do stuff for Blaise and Blaise didn’t have to pay him. Blaise liked having a big black guy being his slave, Get my shirts from the laundry, dude, buy me this, buy me that, dude. Everyone thought Moses was a bodyguard but he’s soft.”