Линвуд Баркли - Elevator Pitch

Valerie was about to press harder about what had gone on between him and his son, but she was interrupted by a text. “What’s this?” she said, reading it.

The mayor raised his head, waiting.

“It’s reception,” Valerie said. “The police are here.”

“Probably Chief Washington,” Headley said. “Maybe she knows more about this Wooler guy they’ve arrested.”

Valerie slowly shook her head. “No. It’s two detectives.” She looked up. “They’re looking for Glover.”

The mayor went ashen-faced. “They have detectives in the health department?”

“What?” Valerie said. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” Headley said.

Valerie entered a number, then put the phone to her ear.

“Hey, it’s Valerie. Are those detectives still there? Okay, yeah, put one of them on.” She waited a few seconds, then said, “Yes, hello? Who’s this? Delgado? What can I do for you, Detective Delgado?” She listened, then said, “Well, I’m sorry but Glover is not here right now. Perhaps this is something I can help you with?”

She listened some more. “I see.”

“What is it?” Headley asked.

Valerie put her hand over the phone and said, “They specifically want to talk to Glover.”

“You better call him,” Headley said, his voice weak, tipping his head at the landline on his desk.

Valerie told Delgado to hold on, picked up the receiver for the mayor’s phone, and entered the number for Glover’s cell.

She waited several seconds before finally saying, “Glover, it’s Valerie. Can you call me the minute you get this?”

She went back onto her cell and said, “I tried his cell but he’s not answering. I’m sorry. His home address? I don’t—”

Headley reached across the desk and snatched the phone out of Valerie’s hand.

“This is Mayor Headley,” he said, with more courtesy than usual. “Who’s this I’m talking to?” He listened for a second. “Can you tell me what this is about?”

He held the phone to his ear for another five seconds, said, “Okay,” then, without saying anything further, handed it back to Valerie. She put it to her own ear, said, “Hello?”

“She hung up,” the mayor said.

Valerie lowered the phone. “What did she say?”

“They’re coming here. To talk to me.”

Bourque and Delgado had never before been in the office of the mayor of New York City. If they were impressed, they were trying very hard not to show it. Valerie had met them just outside the door, and when she took them in, Headley was pacing the room. He had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie.

“Detectives Bourque and Delgado,” Valerie announced.

The two detectives each introduced themselves so the mayor would know who was Bourque and who was Delgado.

“What’s this about?” the mayor asked.

“It’s really your son we want to talk to,” Delgado said.

“About?”

Bourque said, “It’s tied to an investigation we’re working on.”

“So this has nothing to do with the mouse.”

Bourque glanced at his partner, as if to ask Did I hear that right? But instead, he said, “We’re investigating a homicide, sir.”

Headley almost looked relieved. “By my count, there’s what, ten of them? Seven deaths by elevator, three in the explosion.”

“We’re looking into the death of Otto Petrenko,” Delgado said. “His body was found on the High Line Monday morning.”

“Petrenko?”

“An elevator technician,” Bourque said.

Now they had Headley’s attention. “Elevator technician? Is there a connection between his death and what’s been going on?”

“Possibly,” Delgado said. “Before he died, Petrenko became very worried about the safety of his relatives in other parts of the country. It’s possible he was being coerced to provide details on how elevators function, that he feared these relatives would be harmed if he didn’t go along. At the moment, it’s just a theory. Not long before he was killed, Petrenko met with a man who visited him at his place of work. No one else knew who this man was, and Petrenko didn’t talk about him to anyone. We’ve been trying to find out who that man might be.”

“Why do you think Glover might be able to help you with that?” the mayor asked.

Bourque said, “We managed to track down the car this man was driving. It came from the City Hall car pool.”

Valerie, who’d been standing off to one side through the discussion, said, “It did?”

“It had one of those stickers on the back,” Delgado said. “Part of your green campaign, sir. We had a partial plate and a distinguishing mark on the bumper. With all that, we were able to find the exact car.”

“Hang on,” the mayor said. “When did you say this was? Because it’s very possible, given the events of this week, that someone from the city would be talking to an expert in how elevators work.”

Delgado said, “As I mentioned a moment ago, Mr. Petrenko died sometime between Sunday night and Monday morning, before that first elevator event in the Lansing Tower. This meeting predates that.”

“Well, I guess the simplest thing to do,” Headley said, “is find out who signed the car out that day. You don’t need Glover to do that for you. We should be able to get that information. Can we do that for the detectives, Valerie?”

“Absolutely.”

“We’ve already done that,” Bourque said.

The room went quiet.

When the mayor didn’t say anything, it was Valerie who decided to ask the question. “Who signed it out?”

“Glover Headley,” Delgado said.

The mayor and Valerie exchanged glances.

“That’s why,” Bourque said, “we would like to talk to Glover. We just want to clear this up. That’s the way it is in an investigation. Tying up one loose end, then moving on to the next thing.”

“That’s right,” Delgado said. “So if you could just tell us where we might find him, so we could cross this angle of inquiry off our list.”

Headley turned, walked toward his desk. He ran his right hand up to the back of his neck, kneaded it like it was bread dough.

“He just... resigned,” Headley said.

“Why?” Bourque asked.

“Because I’m a son of a bitch,” he said. “Look, I’m sure there’s a very simple explanation for this. I’ll be talking to Glover tonight — he’s coming to the Top of the Park opening — and I’ll ask him what this is about and get back to you tomorrow.”

“We would prefer to talk to him ourselves, sir,” Delgado said. “And we need to talk to him sooner than that.”

“Look, we just tried to raise him and he’s not answering, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

Bourque said, “We need his cell number and home address.”

Valerie looked at her boss, as though waiting for permission. He gave a weary nod, and she said, “I’ll write those down for you.”

She slipped out of the office.

Delgado and Bourque both took out their business cards and placed them on the mayor’s desk. “Give us a call,” she said, “if he should happen to show up sooner.”

Headley looked down at the cards but did not touch them.

Valerie returned with a slip of paper and handed it to Delgado. “I gave you his email address, too,” she said.

“If he’s not in the building, or at home, you know any favorite places he might hang out?” Bourque asked. “Coffee shop? Bar? Park?”

The mayor looked at him blankly. “I can’t think of any. Valerie?”

“No,” she said.

“What did Glover do, before handing in his resignation?” Delgado asked.

“Um, data analysis, polling, techie stuff,” Valerie said.