"When was this?"
"Oh last year sometime, maybe longer, maybe a year and a half."
"And you've not seen him since?"
"No."
"Do you know why he needed the money?"
"Well, alimony, I know; and child support."
"Doesn't his business do well?"
"He always says it is. But then when he wants to borrow money he will say the money is in some bank in a foreign country and he can't get it out, or all his cash is tied up temporarily in some huge event he's doing and he'll pay us back as soon as the event happens."
"He ever pay you back?"
"No."
"You know where he might be now?"
"No, why, is he missing?"
"Yes."
"Well, my God, how long?"
"Several days, now," I said. "His office is closed. He's not in his apartment."
I decided not to mention that he was a suspect in a murder investigation. Apparently, she had missed the second-section story in the Globe, or the twenty-second Action News brief on Channel 3.They worried mostly about crabgrass out here.
"Do you think he's all right?" she said.
"He may have just gone off for a few days R and R," I said. "You have any idea where he might go if he wanted to get away for a while?"
"Not really," she said. "I don't know too much about Brad's personal life."
"No summer home, or ski condo or anything like that?"
"Not that I know of. Brad was always on the verge of bankruptcy," Nancy said. "I don't think he could afford anything like that."
"Know anyone named Buffy?" I said.
"Buffy Haley," she said. "Was Brad's second wife. He had two children with her."
"Know where she is now?"
"Not really. When they divorced she got the house in Winchester, but I don't know if she stayed."
"Carla Quagliozzi?"
Nancy smiled a little. "Third wife."
"Know about her?"
"No. She wasn't around long. I think she was pregnant when they married. I don't know where she is."
"Ever hear of an organization called Civil Streets?"
"No."
"Know anyone named Jeanette Ronan?"
"No."
I tried the rest of the names in the harassment suit.
"No."
"Did you ever go to any of the events Brad put on?"
"No. Joel hates stuff like that. He gets home at night he wants a drink, dinner, and a ball game."
"Who wouldn't?" I said. "So you didn't attend Galapalooza, last January."
"No. I never even heard of it. Galapalooza?"
"Galapalooza," I said. "If you were Brad and you needed for whatever reason to get away, where would you go?"
She gave it some thought. I drank my coffee and admired her knees some more. The coffee wasn't very good. The knees were.
"I have no way to know where," she said. "But it would involve a woman. Brad liked well, now that I start to say it, I'm not so sure I was going to say he liked women. He certainly needed women. He had great luck attracting them. Have you met him?"
"Yes."
"Then you see how handsome and charming he is."
"More so even than myself," I said.
"Perhaps you're too modest," she said. "But he had a terrible time hanging on to them. Carla was, as far as I know, his last marriage, but there are certainly a lot of girlfriends. I'd look for him with a woman."
"How'd he feel about Susan?" I said.
"He always said she was the one he should have stayed with. Is the question just curiosity?"
"Probably," I said. "I'm involved because he came to her with a tale of woe. But when I spoke to him, he denied any trouble."
"You're a man," Nancy said.
"Yes, I am."
"He couldn't admit to another man that he was in trouble, or that he was anything but an All Ivy League success."
"You're saying he could get Susan to ask me to help but he couldn't admit to me that he needed help?"
"Yes."
"Wow."
"You know he changed his name?" she said.
"Yes."
"A lot of it is my father's fault," she said. "He thought that being a success in America was to join the Yankees, to be everything Brad pretends to be."
"You didn't change your name," I said.
"Well, actually, of course, I did."
"Yeah. To Ginsberg. A fine old Yankee name."
"I see your point," she said. "No, Joel and I are Jewish. We have no desire to be thought otherwise."
"So how'd you escape your father's dream," I said.
"Well, I was a girl," she said, " and I got some help."
"A sound decision in both cases."
"I didn't decide to be a girl, Mr. Spenser."
"Well, I'm glad it worked out that way," I said. "You'd have been wasted as a boy."
She colored slightly and smiled.
"Well," she said. "Well; I guess, thank you."
I smiled, my low-wattage smile. I had promised Susan exclusivity, and I didn't want Nancy to fling herself into my arms.
"Anything else you can tell me about your brother?" I said.
"He's not a bad man," she said. "He's just my father screwed his head up."
"You had the same father," I said, "and you did something about it."
"I know," she said.
chapter twenty-seven
I WAS SITTING IN my office with a pad of lined yellow paper trying to find a pattern in the matter of Brad Sterling aka Silverman. Susan always said that the paper was a really ugly color, even after I had explained to her that all detectives used yellow paper with blue lines on it. It was how you knew you were a detective. But even though I was using the correct paper, I was getting nowhere, and slowly, which was another way to know you were a detective.