City of the Dead (Alex Delaware, #37)(54)

Milo said, “And still took a discount? Yeah, that ain’t morality.”

We examined the money trail, including another futile search for credit or debit accounts, followed up with a visit to Palms Tudor Care Center.



* * *



—

That led to confirmation of what we’d read: fifteen grand paid faithfully for two years, per the facility’s administrative director, a round, cheerful man named Hector Aguirre packed into a white polo shirt with a TCC logo and mustard-colored slacks.

The drive from Delage’s apartment to Palms Boulevard just south of National had taken thirteen minutes. Convenient when you rented rides and wanted to be near your helpless sib.

Milo said, “So Mr. Bankster was a good client.”

Hector Aguirre said, “Well, Joey’s the actual client, but sure, Charlie’s been fine.”

He beamed nervously at us across an empty almost-wood conference table. On the way, we’d passed several people slumping in wheelchairs, heard the beeps of I.V. monitors, anguished throat clearing and wet coughs, passed attendants coming and going at a steady but unhurried pace.

The facility was done up in that strange mix of colors—orange and pinkish tan—that you see in medium-sized airports and places like Palms Tudor.

Milo said, “He paid on time.”

Hector Aguirre looked at his watch. “Like clockwork. ’Course, we facilitated by billing only three times a year.”

Milo and I looked at each other. How that helped was unclear.

Aguirre saw the boast had fallen flat and tried to recover. “The main thing, we trimmed off the top because what the heck, you have to be human.”

Trying to sell it smoothly.

Milo said, “How much did you take off?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Per…”

“Year.”

“Ah.”

“We’re under no obligation but why not?” said Aguirre. “He seemed a nice fellow, Charlie. Delicate, you know?” Smiling and waiting for a reaction that didn’t come.

“Good guy,” he said. “Can’t believe someone would do that to him.”

“Is there any other family you’re aware of?”

“Nope. I’m sure of that because Charlie told me he was it.”

“How often did Charlie visit his brother?”

“From what I saw, once a week?” said Aguirre. “Can’t tell you if he came in when I wasn’t here. We don’t keep visitor records, we’re an open facility.”

“Are you aware of Charlie ever having any conflict with anyone?”

“Here?”

“Yessir.”

“No way. Nice guy, cool with the staff. We don’t have conflict.”

Milo said, “What about with another client?”

“Sir,” said Hector Aguirre, “our clients are incapacitated.”

“How about with the relative of another client?”

“Nope, never,” said Aguirre. “And yeah, I can be sure. I’m not going to lie, we don’t get that many visitors.”

“People stash their relatives and forget about them?”

Aguirre winced. “Man, you come right out and say what you think. I’m not going to lie and tell you that doesn’t happen. Dumping. It does, it’s not good but it does. But also I like to think families get relaxed because they trust us to service their loved ones.”

That sounded like something a mortician might say. This place felt like eternity’s waiting room.

Aguirre said, “Do I like the clients not being visited more? For the ones who can tell the difference, sure I don’t like it. Is it reality? What can I say? I’m not going to lie and tell you no one comes but on a given day it could be no one or one or two or three. Except on birthdays. Then they show up. We bake cakes. Tasty cakes, the families like them. Clients who can eat solids like them. We do balloons, those acetates…”

As if realizing he was bombing onstage, he trailed off.

Milo said, “Did Charlie ever visit Joey with anyone else?”

“Couple of times, there was a girl,” said Aguirre. “I remember her because she was…hope I’m allowed to do this but seeing as you’re guys.”

Grinning, he outlined an hourglass.

Milo said, “Hot.”

“Oh yeah. Lots of shape, lots of blond. I figured her for a friend of Charlie’s. A pal, if you catch my drift.”

“Not a love interest.”

“Love interest,” said Aguirre, as if learning a new term. “Well, you know. He, Charlie, was obviously of the gay persuasion.”

“Did he ever show up with a boyfriend?”

“Nope, just her, the blonde. And like I said, just a couple of times. Literally. Two…at least that I saw and I usually see everything from seven a.m. to nine p.m.”

Milo said, “Long shift.”

“Goes with the job. They make it worth my while.”

“The owners.”

“You bet,” said Aguirre. “Great bunch of people, they’re a family based in Seattle. I know what people think but you’d be surprised.”

“What do people think?”

“Owners of places like this are vultures. People who think that should try doing it themselves.”