Chapter 26

The traffic in Boston was chaotic, the city a maze of one-way streets. When at last Julie neared Solomon Chrysler’s original store, the area began to look familiar, if more cramped. The dealership, in particular, seemed much smaller than when she had worked there…a common trick of memory. She pulled into the crowded car lot, recalling Joan’s words, “The Lynn and Waltham stores are much larger”.

Julie didn’t recognize any of the salesmen jockeying for position. One of them, a slick-looking young man, came out to greet her.

“Hi! Welcome to Solomon Chrysler. How can I help you today?”

“Sorry, but you can’t. I’m not looking for a car. I’m here to see Avram Solomon. Is he in?”

“Yes, he is. Go on in.”

“Is he still in the front office?” she asked, figuring Avram must have moved into Milton’s private office with the big one-way mirrored wall that looked out on the sales action.

“Yep, right over there,” he said, opening the door and pointing.

Julie thanked him and quickly crossed the showroom floor, hoping Avram hadn’t seen her. She turned down the hallway and knocked on the first door on the right.

“Yes, what is it?” said Avram.

“A visitor,” said Julie, opening the door and sticking her head in, all smiles.

His shock was obvious.

“Julie…good to see you!” he said, quickly regaining his composure.

Avram looked like a stock broker, not a car dealer. His dark hair was combed smoothly back. He wore leather suspenders over a crisp white shirt, and his silk tie sported an elegant Windsor knot.

Julie had interrupted him while he was discussing something with one of the service managers. He dismissed the man. “Go ahead and do the job for them, Richard. Got to keep the customers happy,” he said, ushering him out.

The man left, shaking his head.

Julie noticed that Avram’s office was designed to reflect the stature of its occupant. It looked like the chamber of a pompous judge. His desk was grand, with an equally imposing chair behind it, larger and higher than the two in front of the desk. There were pictures of him with dignitaries, but no family pictures were in sight.

“So, Julie,” he said, assuming his throne and directing her to a chair opposite him, “this is an unexpected pleasure.”

Julie noted his posture. He sought to give her an impression of relaxation. He leaned back in his chair and smiled but, at the same time, he made a high steeple with his hands. Just the fingertips were touching. It was a smug gesture, creating a wall between them. Further, there was controlled aggression in his eyes.

“Yes, I wanted to spend an extra night in town,” she said.” So many memories here in Boston, especially at Solomon Chrysler. I just thought I’d drop in and say hello, for old times’ sake.”

“Well, that’s wonderful! Perhaps we could have dinner,” he said, smiling and leaning forward. “Where are you staying?”

From an expert’s point of view, Julie appreciated Avram’s smooth transition. He actually looks and sounds genuine now. He’s fascinating, she thought. And reminded herself… like a cobra.

“I’m at the Marriott Long Wharf, but I’m planning to do a little shopping and turn in early,” she said apologetically.

“You and I didn’t get much time to talk about Marc at the wake, Avram. I was so stunned by his death. He was a very good friend of mine, as you know. Of course, I’m not a family member, but I thought…if I could find out just a few more details…it would give me closure, you know?”

“Of course,” said Avram, visibly relieved.

The steeple is lower. Good. We’re playing nice now.

“How can I help?” he said.

“I was wondering, Avram; you went down to see Marc just before I did. Did he seem depressed to you?” asked Julie, assuming the visit.

“Yes, he did, I’m sorry to say.”

“Even though his career was going so well and he’d just been offered $40 million for Castle Cay?”

Avram’s dark eyes were riveted, burning through her. He picked up a Mont Blanc pen from the desk and began turning it, end over end, in his right hand. Sardonically, the bottom half of his face kept smiling.

“Yes,” he said. “Even so.”

I can’t believe it; he’s displaying superiority. Like this is some kind of game. We’ll see about that.

“It’s quite a coincidence - after so many years of owning Castle Cay - that Marc gets a multi-million dollar offer to buy the island and suddenly ends up dead, don’t you think?”

That did it.

“Listen to me, Merlin,” he said, standing, signaling that their meeting was over. He jabbed the Mont Blanc at her like a bayonet with each point he was making. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that sale is done. And further, Marc’s estate goes to my uncle, Matthew Castle, and not to me. I am merely the trustee. So, unless you have a legitimate question regarding my brother’s suicide, I think I’ve helped you all I can with your…closure.”

“I’m sorry, Avram,” said Julie, rising and feigning apology. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I just found the timing curious. I know, of course, that you were here in Boston when Marc died; I’m sure it was a terrible shock. By the way, do you happen to know Roland Archer or Susan Dwyer?”

“Yes, it was a shock,” said Avram, holding the door open, glaring at her. “And certainly, I know Marc’s agent. I don’t know the other person. Now, if you don’t mind, I really am busy.”

Julie said goodbye and walked out to the Camry.

You were shocked, all right, Avram.

When you saw ME.

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