The Museum of Desire: An Alex Delaware Novel(76)
—
Not to be.
Okash’s building was well maintained, full security, with an in-house manager, a woman named Ada Mansour who responded to Milo’s buzzer-push with a snappish “Police?” and took her time appearing.
Fifties, stocky, bleached blonde in a brown shirt with faint military overtones over tan stretch pants and a scowl that looked sewn-on.
She sidled through one of a pair of glass doors, folded her arms across her chest as she listened to Milo’s request.
Responding before his final word faded. “Nope, can’t let you in.”
Milo said, “It’s a welfare check, ma’am.”
“Based on what?”
“Ms. Okash is missing.”
“For how long?”
“She didn’t show up for an appointment a few hours ago.”
Mansour smirked. “That’s missing? No way, Jose, it’s not going to work again.”
“Again?”
“My son used to play in a band, bunch of them were sharing a dive in the Valley. Cops claimed it was a welfare check so they could bust the door. Ali got arrested for drugs and he doesn’t even use them. Cost me a fortune.”
“There’s nothing like that going on now, ma’am.”
“So you say. My lawyer got everything dismissed because you guys shouldn’t have entered in the first place. Cost me an arm and a leg and a lot of time and energy so forget it.”
“How about this?” said Milo. “You go into her apartment and check.”
“Check for what?”
“Is she there, is she okay.”
“She’s out,” said Mansour. “I saw her leave and she didn’t come back. She looked fine.”
“How can you be sure she didn’t return?”
“My unit’s near hers. If she was there, I’d know it.”
“She a good neighbor?”
“Now the questions start?” said Mansour. “She’s quiet and pays her rent. That means good. You suspect her of something? The owners don’t want no problems, you guys hide something and something happens there’ll be lawyers, believe me.”
“It’s a welfare check, ma’am.”
It didn’t fail because it was a lie. Mansour was primed to refuse. “Ma’am, huh? That’s what all of yous called me when I had to bail out Ali. Ma’am this, ma’am that. Meanwhile they’re putting me through the wringer.”
She turned to leave.
Milo got in front of her and tried to give her his card.
She kept her hands by her side. “Ugh. What do I want with this?”
“I’m available in case of problems. Ms. Mansour.”
“Like you care,” she said. “Like I believe anyone about anything anytime anyplace.”
* * *
—
Back in the Seville, he laughed. “Checked the weather this morning, didn’t see any storm warnings.”
I said, “Nowadays, everything’s personal.”
“Ain’t that the truth. So what’s next…maybe whoever owns the gallery building will have a friendlier attitude. Let’s see who that might be.”
I started the car. “West to the station or east to downtown?”
“You always say optimism’s healthy. Let’s aim for Hart Street.”
* * *
—
The ride was quiet but for grunts and clicks as he worked his phone.
Disgruntled bear harassed by crickets.
He sat back frowning. “Plug in the address and an outfit called AOC, Limited, comes up. But a search for business licenses and DBAs pulls up nothing. The only link I can find is an outfit in Macao: Asian-Occidental Concepts. I go on their website and everything dissolves. One more try.”
His thumbs worked. “Now it’s frozen.”
He switched the phone off and on. “Know anything about Macao?”
“Part of China, I think they like casinos.”
“Hmph—okay, it’s the—get this—Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China. I’m visualizing a mail-drop in a dim sum joint.”
I said, “Sounds like a trade center with tax benefits. Is there a chamber of commerce?”
“Hold on…there is, indeed…but it’s gobbledygook…okay, here’s something: The place has cultural agreements in Europe. Company calls itself Asian-Occidental, maybe that’ll lead somewhere.”
He muttered as he worked.
“Lisbon, Portugal…nada…Coimbra, Portugal, nada…one more place in Portugal…Porto—that where the wine’s from? I could use some…also zilch…next stop…c’mon Link?ping, Sweden…thanks for nothing, Blondie…okay, here we go, Brussels, Belgium.”
He gave the thumbs-up and returned to the screen. “The Belgium-Macao Friendship Society lists a whole bunch of companies and top of the list is AOC. Along with…three subsidiaries. First one is…hold on, this is a mouthful…Nieder…sch?n…hausen Fine Arts…then Western Import-Export, then Heigur, Limited. Why’s that third one familiar?”
I said, “Owner of the house where Okash delivered the painting.”