Silent Victim - C. E. Lawrence [28]
They didn’t have long to wait. The manager rushed in, a worried look on his face. Lee had told him over the phone that something had happened to Ana, but had not gone into specifics.
“Hello, I’m Sayeed El Naga,” the manager said, shaking their hands. He too was dark and, judging by his name and accented English, from the Middle East, but unlike the elegant maître d', he was small and balding, with a compact body and nervous, eager energy. He had a darkly handsome face, with large dark eyes, full lips, and very white teeth. He exuded personal warmth and goodwill.
He pulled up a chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and looked Lee earnestly in the eyes. “You said you have something to tell me regarding Ana. So let’s not waste time—what is it, please?” His tone was polite but firm, as though he expected something less than the truth from the encounter.
Lee met his gaze. There was no point in trying to soften the blow. El Naga had asked for the truth, and it would be a shock no matter how he said it. “Ana is dead. Her death has been classified as a homicide.”
El Naga fell back in his chair as though he had been shot. He stared at Lee without speaking, his mouth open. Finally he said, “When—how? Who did it? Where did you find her?”
Butts stepped in. “They found her yesterday, in the river.”
“The Delaware?”
“No,” said Lee, “where the Harlem River meets the Hudson.”
“What was she doing there?” said El Naga.
She was coming to see me, Lee wanted to say, but the time of death hadn’t yet been conclusively determined. It was harder to pinpoint with victims who had been in the water for some time, as Ana had.
“We don’t really know yet,” said Butts. “I wish we could tell you more, but we’re trying to figure it out ourselves.”
“Ana hated the water,” El Naga said. “She told me that once,” he added apologetically.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind,” Lee said gently.
“Yes, yes, of course—anything.”
“Did she have any enemies that you know of?” Butts asked. “Anybody who expressed a dislike for her, or who had a reason to harm her?”
“No, I can’t think of anyone. She was a little strange, you know, had an odd way about her, but she was a good worker, and got on reasonably well with the rest of the staff.”
“What about customers?” said Lee. “Was there anyone who acted suspicious or inappropriate with her recently?”
El Naga furrowed his thick black eyebrows and chewed on his lower lip. “Let me think. This is a pretty upscale clientele, you know,” he said defensively, as if the restaurant itself were a suspect.
“Yes, I know,” Lee reassured him. “I used to come here when I was a boy.”
El Naga’s face brightened momentarily. “Really?”
“Yes—I grew up not far from here.”
“It’s very nice here, isn’t it?” El Naga said. “I like the countryside so very much. I still can’t get used to snow, though—it is quite different where I come from.”
“Yeah, and where’s that?” Butts asked.
“Egypt—Cairo. Very noisy, very dirty, very polluted, don’t you know? I much prefer it here—I have even bought the snow boots for this winter.”
“So was there anyone you can think of who came here who might have acted strangely toward Ana?” Lee prompted.
El Naga’s face grew serious again. “No … oh, wait, yes—there was someone, about a week ago. I remember Ana telling the maître d’ that if he ever came again, would he please give him to another waitress.”
“Did you get a look at the guy?” Butts said eagerly.
“Sadly, no. It was a very busy Sunday brunch, you see, and I was helping out in the kitchen. One of the cooks was away and we were short-staffed. I’m so very sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he added, looking dejected.
“No, thank you for what you’ve told us—it could be very helpful,” Lee said. The man was so earnest and eager to please that Lee wanted to