Julie sat in the back seat of the taxi thinking about David Harris. It was Friday, September 21st, and she planned to be on the one o'clock flight out of Miami to Key West. David was all set to pick her up there.
She thought about what Joe had told her: "There was no forced entry". She reminded herself that David was the only other person in the house when Marc died. But it was no use; no matter how she looked at it, she couldn't imagine David having anything to do with Marc's death.
She got out of the cab a few storefronts down from Island World Realty, which, fortunately, was fairly close to Miami International. Julie tipped the driver a twenty. He was to come back for her in precisely one hour, if he wanted to collect another one.
She was surprised to find the place in a strip mall. There were a few guys in cubicles on phones and computers, and an older woman was sitting at a desk up front, near the door. It suddenly occurred to Julie that they probably didn't have much walk-in business for multimillion-dollar islands. Obviously, the closings took place somewhere else.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. I'm looking for Frank Martino."
A dark haired guy, late twenties maybe, rolled his desk chair backwards into the aisle between the cubes. He looked at Julie, a pleased smile on his face.
"Hi! You Julie O'Hara?"
"Yes. Frank Martino?"
"That's me. I'll be right with you."
Slick. The Bluetooth phone in his ear completes the image...
Julie was glad she hadn't mentioned Castle Cay specifically. She had merely said that she was "flying into Miami from Boston," and "wanted to talk about an island." She wanted to gauge his reaction in person.
"You want to get some lunch? There's a sub shop next door," said Martino.
"I could use a cup of coffee," said Julie, and followed him out. As they walked to the nearby sub shop, Julie noticed some expensive cars parked in front of Island World...a BMW convertible, a Cadillac and a Lexus.
They got their orders, and sat down opposite each other in a booth.
"So how's the real estate business these days?" asked Julie.
"In the tank, I hear," said Martino, smiling. "But not islands. They don't lose value like regular property and the buyers are always qualified. So, are you a buyer or a seller?"
"Neither, I'm afraid," said Julie, watching him carefully. "I'm here to talk about Castle Cay in the Abacos...and Marc Solomon."
Martino's body stiffened immediately. He was surprised and definitely unhappy. He was frowning, his brows knit together.
The deal with Holiday Cruise Lines hasn't closed yet, I bet...and he has a big stake in it.
I wonder how much?
"Who are you? What does that have to do with you?" Martino asked, no longer interested in his sandwich.
"I don't have anything to do with it. Marc Solomon was my friend, that's all. That's why I'm here. This sale just happens to coincide with his death. I only want to ask a few questions, Frank, just public record things," Julie said, sipping her coffee.
"What kind of questions?"
"Well, I already know quite a bit about it. I know it was listed for $45 million, and that Holiday Cruise Lines has offered $40 million."
"Yeah. So?" said Martino.
I knew it. The deal isn't done.
"And you are both the listing and selling agent, right?" said Julie.
"So what?" said Martino.
So that gives you a lot of motive to see this deal done...one way or another.
"Oh, nothing, really," said Julie, smiling. "Good for you! I know how tough the real estate business can be. So how did Avram Solomon come to list it with you, anyway?"
"Um, I don't know. Somebody referred him, I guess," said Martino.
He's looking away from me. Besides, any real estate agent would remember who referred a client with a property like this.
"How long was it on the market?"
"About a year, I guess," said Martino, getting agitated. "Look, if you're really an agent, Ms. O'Hara, you can forget it. This is an exclusive listing and Castle Cay is under contract."
"I'm not a real estate agent, but aren't you forgetting something? The man who signed your deal is dead."
"That doesn't change a thing. I mean, I'm sorry about your friend, but Avram Solomon has authority to sell Castle Cay on behalf of the trust."
No doubt. But why is it so important to him? What does Avram have to gain?
It seemed that every time Julie learned something, she came away with more questions. The timing of the sale of Castle Cay was disturbing, certainly not a coincidence. She concealed her frustration and smiled at the agent.
"Well, Frank, I guess that covers it. I wish you luck with the sale, I hope it all goes well. It doesn't appear to have any connection to Marc Solomon's death."
Martino relaxed a little. He wrapped up his sandwich and stood.
"Well, I've got to get back to work. Sorry about your friend," he said.
"Thank you, and thanks for your help," said Julie.
"Yeah, sure," said Martino as he headed out the door.
Julie walked slowly to the end of the strip mall. The cabbie was punctual, and dropped her off in plenty of time to get a sandwich before boarding the small commuter plane. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.
Before long, she was in the air, headed for Key West.
* * * * *