Steel took a long slow drag on his cigarette before blowing the smoke out through his nostrils. Andrea thought that it made him look like an angry dragon.
"Who am I really? Detective Leo Steel." He held out a hand to her again to shake. "Did I forget to introduce myself?"
"No. You did that first thing," Andrea replied. "And you've been flapping your badge around a whole lot. Mind if I take a look at that?"
Steel glanced over his shoulder at the uniformed officer who was still standing sentry at the crime scene. "Maybe we should move this conversation somewhere a little more secluded," he said in a low growl.
Andrea folded her arms and stared him down.
"Oh I'm quite comfortable where we are thanks. In fact, maybe we could call the officer over to join us? I don't think he got a good look at your badge either."
Steel looked like he was considering his options, before he shrugged and pulled out his badge once more. This time it was a much slower, more reluctant action. He flipped it open and gave Andrea a long opportunity to examine it.
The black leather holder was divided in two. On one side was a thick metal badge with a blue embossed seal showing the scales of justice, the word 'DETECTIVE' in large letters and a badge number. It was similar to—but not quite identical to—the badges of the city's police department.
The other side of the holder was an ID card. It had his name, a couple of dates and identification numbers, a photo of Steel that must have been from 20 years ago when he had more hair, and again the word 'DETECTIVE' in large letters… and the word 'private' in much smaller text.
Andrea had known something was off about Steel. He wasn't with the police department. He was a private detective, like out of an old mystery novel. Now that the truth had been confirmed, she fully expected him to have a drinking habit, an ex-wife, and a string of bad debts. That tended to be what PI's in the film noir stories had.
Once Steel had given her a good chance to look his ID over, he flipped it back into his jacket with the same flourish he'd used previously. "It's all in the wrist. You do it with enough confidence, most people wouldn't have the guts to ask for a closer look."
"Cute," Andrea said. "Where did you get that, out of a cereal box?"
"Theater prop," he admitted. "Everyone thinks you want a badge that's super shiny to make people think it's real, but what really feels authentic is a badge that looks like it's taken a beating."
"So why are you breaking into crime scenes and impersonating a police detective, Mr Steel?"
Steel held up a protesting finger. "I think you'll find I never actually lied. My name really is Leo Steel, and I am a detective… It's not my fault if people assume I'm with the department when I introduce myself that way."
"Uh huh," Andrea said skeptically. She leaned in and whispered, "You think that's what the cop over there would say?"
Steel glanced over his shoulder again. "Probably not, but I'd prefer to not find out, so I appreciate your willingness to keep our tones low... Are you sure I couldn't convince you to step around the corner with me?"
"We can just stay here and keep things subtle," she said. Given that she didn't know what Steel wanted or what he was capable of, she felt a lot safer knowing that help was only a few steps away.
Steel shrugged again and took another pull on his cigarette. "Well since you have seen through my, shall we say, subterfuge, mind if I ask you what tipped you off?" he said, leaving thin smoke trails as he waved his cigarette around with his words.
So many things, thought Andrea. "Let's say I had a gut feeling." No reason to tip her hand as to what she had spotted, or help him to refine his deception.
Steel nodded sagely. "Guts are important in this business, guts and grit. You need a lot of both when you don't have a whole department backing you up."
"Well that's fascinating, Mr Steel, but you still haven't told me what you're doing here."
"Actually, I just did. Backup. For you." Steel reached into his other pocket and pulled out a business card. "This is a potentially dangerous business you're poking your nose into, kid. We have a, let's say, 'mutual acquaintance' who thought you might need someone to keep a—no pun intended—'eye' on you. Well, now you've got a Private Eye on you."
Mutual acquaintance? Andrea's first thought was that this was another of Kyle's 'arrangements'... but surely he would have told her about Steel.
Then she thought about Jackie keeping her in the dark about the meeting with Kyle. It seemed as much as everyone thought she was a competent and talented lawyer, they didn't mind leaving her out of important information.
But who else could it be? Jackie? Didn't seem like her style. Kyle's father? Kyle wouldn't think that very likely. Who else was there?
She hated admitting ignorance, but there was no point in her not just asking.
"Does this mutual acquaintance have a name?"
"Yeah, their name is 'The Client,' and right now 'The Client' wants to maintain a level of anonymity. And since they're the one paying me, that's what they get." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Unless you want to beat their offer?"
Andrea didn't think she would be able to herself. Kyle probably would be able to afford it, but Andrea would need to get access to his finances first…
Steel pursed his lips in a 'your loss' expression and handed her his card. "Give me a call if you have any leads you want chasing down or you need some muscle for busting down doors and looking scary." He gave her another scrutinizing look and said, eyebrow raised, "I think you got a lotta moxie myself, but you don't look particularly intimidating."
Andrea took the card. She still didn't trust Steel and wasn't about to share any of her theories with him, but he was right that there might be situations where he could prove useful.
Steel tipped another lazy salute before stuffing his hands into his trench coat pockets. "Other than that, don't be surprised if you catch sight of me out of the corner of your eye. I'll try to be discreet," he said, tapping the side of his nose. "Just think of me as your guardian angel. Be seeing you," he said, as he spun on his heel and headed back towards the elevator.
Andrea didn't think knowing that Steel was following her around would do much to make her feel safer. He certainly didn't fit the image of a guardian angel.
Even though Steel didn't think that there was any chance the other tenants had heard anything, Andrea still knocked on the next two nearest doors. No. 5106 was supposed to be up for sale, and indeed there was absolutely no response when Andrea knocked.
No. 5103 on the other hand appeared to have a high tech electronic doorbell installed. Andrea couldn't understand why someone would have gone to the trouble, when only people who were supposed to be there could even get to this floor.
A moment after Andrea pressed the bell, the face of a young woman appeared on the LCD screen. After Andrea introduced herself, the woman told her that her name was Lexie, she hadn't heard anything and that her baby was sleeping right now, so she wasn't going to let Andrea in.
There wasn't much else Andrea could think to do. She hoped that Steel wasn't going to be waiting for her in the lobby. Since that was where he had waited in the first place to find her, Andrea suspected he might be loitering around there waiting for her to leave. Stepping into the elevator, she noticed that while the express elevator didn't stop at the lower floors of the building, there were buttons for the packing garage.
Maybe if she snuck out through the garage, she could give Steel the slip. Given he undoubtedly knew where she worked, she knew this wouldn't lose him forever, but she'd take a win where she could.
The garage was cool and echoey. Andrea didn't know how safe she would feel walking through the garage alone, but the exit was clearly marked, and fortunately, the area was more brightly lit than a lot of underground lots.
Before continuing on her way, Andrea noticed a number of designated parking bays, reserved for the building's residents. Naturally, the high paying condo owners had the prime spots closest to the elevator, though she wouldn't have been at all surprised if many of the residents had chauffeurs. Still, each of the bays was marked with its corresponding Unit number, and No. 5104 was occupied…
It probably didn't have anything to do with the case, but Andrea was curious what kind of car Kyle would drive.
A lot of the Tims she knew liked to brag about their electric vehicles the same way they boasted about how great their latest workout regime was. The ones who were married usually had some sort of souped up pickup truck to haul their boats on vacation. Andrea couldn't see Kyle falling into either of those groups. He would most likely be one of the petrolheads who drove a four-wheeled midlife crisis, like a Lambogini or a Mustang. The kind of car that could go from zero to sixty in five seconds but spends its whole life stuck in city traffic.
Kyle's parking bay was obscured behind a large Cadillac Escalade, so Andrea had to walk closer for a better look.
As more of the car came into view it became increasingly familiar. To Andrea's surprise, it wasn't a supercar or an American muscle or even a Japanese import…
…Kyle drove a Volvo.
It was a NICE Volvo, their top-of-the-line XC90, a luxury SUV, wonderfully comfortable, incredible safety features… but it was a Volvo! Volvo's had a reputation for being practical to the point of boring. It looked like Kyle had this year's model.
She would never have guessed—and yet, it was exactly what she should have expected. Because like so much else about Kyle, Andrea found his choice of vehicle irrationally annoying.
She had been saving up to buy one of these! This exact model!
This felt like turning up at a party and finding another girl had worn the exact same dress; the sense of 'well, now one of us is going to have to change'… There was absolutely no reason to think that she couldn't still buy one… except now she knew if she did, it would feel tainted in an absurd way because he'd had one first.
Putting her annoyance aside, Andrea decided to satisfy her curiosity and take a look inside. It was locked of course, but she could peer in through the windows. Much like his apartment, it was all clean and uncluttered, as though it was fresh out of the showroom. If it wasn't for some mud on the tires, Andrea could have believed that it had never been driven.
There was a neatly folded newspaper and a half visible pair of glasses on the passenger seat, and a note resting on the dashboard. Andrea couldn't make out what it said from where she was standing, she needed to get closer. She pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands so she wouldn't leave fingerprints on the paintwork and leaned out over the hood. Her hair kept falling in her eyes, so she used her pen as a makeshift hairpin and fixed her hair up into a quick bun.
Even with her hair out of the way, the note was a little difficult to read upside down, but Andrea realized that this was Kyle's shopping list for the meal he had planned for Triss.
It had to be Kyle who wrote it himself. No-one else she knew would have written 'Bluefin' with a little heart for the dot over the 'i'…
Looking at the list, Andrea had several thoughts.
First, she apparently still hadn't plumbed the depths of Kyle's unusual relationship with food.
Second, she found it difficult to believe that this was the shopping list of a killer, and wondered if it could be submitted as evidence in her case.
And third, as ridiculous as she knew it was, she couldn't help finding it a little endearing.
***
Andrea didn't think she had time for any other investigations before her court appointment, but there was time to meet briefly with Kyle again. As the guard opened the heavy door of the interview room, a thought struck Andrea.
"I don't think those will be necessary." She indicated the restraints on Kyle's wrists and stepped aside for the officer to remove them.
As much as she tried to maintain a stoic expression, she couldn't prevent the corner of her mouth from curling into a tiny smile at Kyle's look of surprise.