Fever(37)
“Distant, withdrawn,” Janssen said. “Started holing up in his flat. Wouldn’t answer e-mails or acknowledge chess problems I sent him. Wouldn’t return phone messages.”
“Did you know he was in debt, not paying his bills?”
“Yeah, I heard. I can tell you part of the reason: he lost two of his best consulting jobs.”
“How did that happen?”
“He wasn’t doing the work. Just didn’t seem to care anymore.”
“When did this happen?”
“Four or five months ago.”
“He tell you this?”
“No. Another friend of his, Aaron Myers.”
“Do you know Myers well?”
“Not very. Met him through Brian, but we didn’t hit it off. I ran into him later on at a computer trade show at Moscone and we got to talking. He was worried about Brian, too. But neither of us knew what to do about it.”
“Might’ve contacted his mother.”
“Myers did that, or started to, but Brian found out and threw a fit, told him to mind his own business. I thought about doing it on my own, but … you know, I didn’t want to make things worse by sticking my nose in. I figured he’d talk to her on his own if things got bad enough. But he didn’t?”
“No. She doesn’t know about his weird behavior or financial problems,” Runyon said. “All she knows is that somebody beat him up last week.”
“Beat him up? Brian?” Janssen looked and sounded amazed. “Who?”
“He told his mother he was mugged. He told me he was carjacked.”
“And you don’t believe it’s either one.”
“Can you think of another explanation?”
“No. Brian’s totally nonviolent. If you’ve met him …”
“Monday afternoon, at his flat. His girlfriend was there with him.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Brandy. You know her?”
“No way. I never met anyone named Brandy.”
Runyon described her and her foul mouth, summarized the scene at Youngblood’s flat.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Janssen said. “I can’t imagine Brian letting anybody talk that way about his mother. He didn’t stand up to this Brandy at all?”
“Not for a second.”
“Man. She sounds like a … whore.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Brian and a woman like that?” Head wag. “That’s just crazy.”
“Not the type he’s attracted to?”
“Lord, no. His mother tell you he was engaged to Ginny Lawson?”
“Yes.”
“You talked to her yet? Ginny?”
“Not yet.”
“When you do you’ll see what I mean. She’s the total opposite of this Brandy—total. Real devout. Her hobby is singing gospel music.”
“Why did she break off the engagement, do you know?”
“Brian wouldn’t say. I figured it must have something to do with the weird way he was acting.”
“So it wasn’t the breakup that led to his erratic behavior.”
“No. The weird stuff started a few months before.”
“And for no apparent reason that you could see.”
“None. Just … out of the blue, seemed to me.”
“Has Brian dated any other women since Ginny Lawson?”
“Besides this Brandy? Not that I know of.”
“Before Ginny?”
“Well, Verna Washington. She was kind of funky.”
“Funky how?”
“Oh, the way she dressed, her tastes in music and food. She’s a chef for some restaurant in SoMa. They seemed like kind of an odd couple, but she wasn’t nasty or anything.”
“How long were they together?”
“Not long. Couple of months.”
“What broke them up?”
“Don’t know. You’d have to ask him. Or Verna.”
“You have an address for her?”
“She was living in the outer Sunset back then. Lake Street, I think. I don’t know the number.”
Easy enough to find out. Runyon made a note. Then he asked, “Did you know Brian paid off most of his debts three months ago—ten thousand dollars’ worth?”
Janssen showed surprise again. “No, I didn’t know. Where’d he get that kind of money?”
“I was about to ask you the same question. Certificate of deposit or IRAs, possibly?”
“No way. His family never had much and he’s never been big on future planning. He and Ginny argued about it once that I know about.”
“Loan from a friend? Aaron Myers?”
“Not Myers—he doesn’t have that kind of money. And if Brian has any other friends with that much cash to loan out, I don’t know who they could be. Maybe he got it from a bank or finance company.”