16 Hitman (12 page)

"All right," I said. "It's not accidental the police got your name.
Your name was brought up in connection with the man whose
murder they're investigating."

"What do you mean, `brought up'?"

"It's a delicate matter. There are things I can tell you, and things
I can't tell you. But say you were quite deliberately brought into
the picture. The question, of course, is why?"

"I'm still not following you."

"Okay, try this on for size. The police had two names. Victor
Marsden and Martin Kessler. Victor Marsden is dead. Someone
killed him. No one knows why. But it's possible the person who
killed him was attempting to kill Martin Kessler. If so, it won't be
long before he discovers his mistake."

"You're saying this person might be trying to kill me?"

"That's right."

Martin Kessler's grin was enormous. "That's absolutely idiotic.
"No one's trying to kill me."

A bullet whizzed by his head and imbedded itself in the wall.

I SUPPOSE I COULD HAVE been lucky and not gotten Crowley.
After all, this wasn't a homicide. Or even an attempted homicide.
It was really just a stray bullet. Which in New York, alas, isn't that
rare. Only the timing was unfortunate. My suggestion that the man
might be in danger before a bullet missed him by inches had rather
nasty implications. At least that's the way his wife seemed to take it.
She made no bones about calling the cops. And insisted she talk to
someone involved in the Victor Marsden case. Upon which the shit
hit the fan.

Crowley wasn't far behind. He settled himself at Kessler's dining
room table, accepted the cup of coffee Earth Mother offered him,
and sat there sipping it just as if he were a student in one of
Kessler's seminars.

"So," Crowley said, "this gentleman nearly got you shot."

It was all I could do not to jump to my defense. But nothing I
could say was going to be of any help.

Not that I needed help. Kessler was broad-minded. Magnanimous.
"I'm not saying it's his fault, but it's certainly what he had in mind."

"He came to see you?"

"That's right."

"Did he call first? Make an appointment?"

"No. He just rang the bell."

"He rang the bell, you let him in, and almost got shot."

"Not that quickly."

"Well, how quickly was it?"

"I don't know. He was explaining why he was here."

"Why was that?"

"To warn me."

"Warn you of what?"

"He said my life might be in danger."

"Did he now? And why was that?"

"He didn't say."

Crowley looked over where the detective was digging the
bullet out of the wall. "I'm going to want to match that up."

The detective had to be a good ten years Crowley's senior. His
look said, "Gee, I never would have thought of that."

Crowley turned his attention back to Kessler. "You have no
idea why your life might be in danger?"

"Just what he said."

"I thought he didn't say anything."

"Just my name"

"What about your name?"

"He said the police had two names. Mine and another guy's.
And the other guy is dead."

Crowley cocked his head ironically. "Did he happen to mention
where the police got those two names?"

"No. Why?"

"Never mind. Did what he said scare you?"

"No. It sounded stupid."

"What about now?"

"It still sounds stupid. But apparently there's something to it"

"How soon after he entered the apartment did you get shot at?"

"It was only a few minutes."

Earth Mother was getting impatient. "You're asking the wrong
question."

"Excuse nie?" Crowley said.

"The shot was a few minutes after he entered the apartment. But
it was immediately after my husband stepped in front of the window."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

"Why did you go to the window?"

"I didn't go to the window. We were talking. I stepped in front
of the window."

"He didn't suggest you go in front of the window?"

I kept my mouth shut, but it was getting harder and harder.

"No, he didn't."

"Or lead you to the window?"

"He didn't lead me to the window. He may have stepped in
front of the window."

"Really? He walked to the window and you followed?"

"That's a little strong"

"But accurate?"

"No, it's not accurate. The three of us were in the room. We
were all standing. Countered as people said things."

"Countered?"

Kessler looked embarrassed. "I staged the Christmas pageant.
That's theater talk."

"That's ridiculous," Mrs. Kessler said. "Nobody countered anything. Nobody led anybody to the window. This gentleman
looked around the room because he'd never been here before. He
stepped in front of the window. My husband did, too. And
someone shot"

Crowley jerked his thumb in my direction. "Any chance the
shot could have been aimed at him?"

"Is that wishful thinking?" I said sarcastically. Still, I found the
idea unsettling. Even knowing it wasn't true.

Crowley ignored me and the Earth Mother, concentrated on
Kessler. "He never called your attention to the window?"

Kessler hesitated. "Oh"

"Well?"

"I'm an English teacher. The word never ..."

"I don't care if you're the Queen of Sheba. I asked the question
because I want an answer. Did he ever direct your attention to the
window?"

"Well, that's the thing," Kessler said. "He rang the bell. I didn't
know who he was. I was reluctant to let him in. He told me to
look out the window."

"He told you to look out the window?"

"That's right."

"You went to the window then?"

"Yes."

"The same window the shot came through?"

"That's right."

"What happened then?"

As Kessler described my dance move, Crowley sized me up
from head to toe as if he'd just cracked the case. Of course nothing
made sense. The operation was being masterminded by a lunatic.

Crowley cocked his head. "Just for fun, you want to attempt an
explanation?"

"I was trying to show him I was harmless. Clearly that backfired."

"And while he was framed in the window-no one shot at
him then?"

"No."

"So you had to go inside."

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "Because I wanted to meet his wife and be standing next to him when he was shot, just in case you
missed the implication that I might be involved."

Earth Mother appreciated the logic. "That really doesn't make
any sense.

Crowley frowned. "Before you go taking his side, I would like
to point out that this man has refused to cooperate with the police.
If he had, this could have been prevented."

"Oh, bullshit," I said. "I told you this guy might be in danger.
You thought the idea was stupid, so I stopped making suggestions."

"That's not what happened."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the detective digging
the bullet out of the wall was grinning from ear to ear, and clearly
getting a kick out of my giving Crowley a hard time.

Crowley noticed. "You got that bullet yet? Make sure you keep
track of any scratches you put on it"

"That his first bullet?" I said, rubbing it in.

"I'm through playing games." Crowley clapped his hand on
Kessler's shoulder. "Do you have reason to believe this man might
be in danger?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Someone shot at him."

Crowley's face was turning red. "Besides that"

"I traced the names of two people. One of them is dead. That
raised concerns for the other."

"Why?"

"Fifty percent is a statistically poor survival rate"

"Who gave you this man's name?"

"My client."

"Really? What did he say about him?"

"He didn't say anything about him"

"He just gave you his name?"

"That's right."

"Why did he give you his name?"

"I can't answer for his motivations."

"Did he ask you to trace it?"

"No, he did not"

"What did he say when he gave you his name?"

"I'm not discussing nay business with my client."

"You're not a lawyer.You don't have attorney-client privilege.You
can't refuse to answer questions about what your client told you."

"Oh, yeah? Just watch me."

Crowley's mouth fell open. So did Kessler's and the Earth
Mother's. The detective kept his cool, but he was enjoying it enormously.

"I'm just an ordinary citizen, but I have rights.You can't push
me around. I'm done answering questions, and I'm going home. If
you want to detain me, you'll have to arrest me."

"All right, damn it.You're under arrest."

"Well, it's about time."

I whipped out my cell phone, called Rosenberg and Stone.

RICHARD ROSENBERG WAS AT HIS sarcastic best. "Let me be sure
I got this straight.You arrested this man because you didn't like the
way he answered your questions?"

"Don't be silly," Crowley said.

"I assure you I'm not being silly. I've listened to your explanation and that's all I can come up with.You don't even seem to have
a charge. To the best I can determine, you arrested my client on
suspicion of not pleasing you with his answers"

"I arrested your client on obstruction of justice."

"Yes, but that's such a broad charge. Barricading yourself inside
a bank, taking hostages, and shooting the negotiator would certainly be an obstruction of justice"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous from the point of view of the negotiator."
Richard shrugged. "On the other hand, I assume refusing to pay
your parking ticket could be considered obstruction of justice"

"On the other hand," Crowley countered, "withholding material evidence in a murder case could be considered obstruction of
justice."

"Good thing my client hasn't done that"

"Oh, but he has."

"Really? I'd like to see you prove it. I can't wait to get you on
the stand"

"Your client accepted employment from a hitman. Knowing he
was a hitman. That hitman is now suspected of a murder, and your
client won't talk. I don't see where you've got much wiggle room."

"That's because you didn't go to law school." Richard pursed
his lips. "Look, here's my best offer. Let us walk out of here right
now and I won't make it a matter of principle to wind up with
your house and car."

Crowley scowled. "Are you threatening me?"

"Absolutely not. A threat implies the intention to do something wrong. My intention is merely to go to court."

"So, according to you, the phrase `threat of legal action' has no
meaning?"

"Oh, do you want to debate semantics? I love debating semantics at four hundred and fifty bucks an hour. Only I doubt if my
client can pay it. I'd have to sue him for my fee."

"I'm not fooling around here. There's been a murder and an
attempted murder. Your client's involved."

"In what way?"

"He knows the killer. He was employed by the killer. Now he's
covering up for the killer. As well as his own involvement."

"You're saying Stanley's an accessory to murder? As a charge, I
like it better than obstruction of justice"

"I'll file it if you don't cooperate."

"Now, that would count as a threat of legal action.You're quite
right, there is such a thing, and you're guilty of it"

"I want to know the name of your client."

"Stanley Hastings."

"Not your client. His client."

Richard grimaced. "There we run into a problem. It is possible
that my client's client was not entirely truthful in giving his name.
Leaving my client with an erroneous perception of who he actually was"

"Are you saying that's the case?"

"I'm saying it's possible."

"It's possible pigs fly, but I wouldn't want to bet on it"

"Too bad. That would be an interesting wager."

"Are you going to keep evading the question?"

"I'm not evading the question."

"You're not answering it, either."

"You're the one who started talking about pigs"

Richard's cell phone rang. He whipped it out, said, "Hello? ...
Thank you," and flipped it shut. "Judge Harwell has done me the
favor of going to court. He is there now for the purpose of fixing
bail for Mr. Hastings. Care to take a little stroll? I can't wait to hear
the evidence on which you base the current charge. Or the ones
you're threatening me with. Judge Harwell's going to love those."

Crowley looked like a naughty schoolboy about to be sent to
the principal.

I loved it.

RICHARD WASN'T PLEASED, despite getting to flaunt his legal
prowess and bop cops around, usually two of his favorite activities.
He seemed to enjoy persuading Judge Harwell to release me on my
own recognizance, but I guess it wasn't that much of a challenge.
The minute we were safely out on the street, he raised a withering
eyebrow. "Really, Stanley, this is beneath you"

"You said call if I got arrested."

"For murder. Not obstruction of justice."

"You weren't specific. You're a lawyer. You should have closed
that loophole."

"I suppose," Richard groused. "Tell me, did you goad them into
arresting you?"

"Just a little."

"Serves me right. So, what's the story with this bullet?"

"You know as much as I do. I called on the guy. Someone shot
a bullet."

"Was he tailing you?"

"Who?"

"The guy who shot the bullet. Come on, numbnuts. These
questions aren't all that hard."

"I didn't see anyone following me. And I was looking for it. It
doesn't mean they weren't. But if I'm right, they went straight for
Kessler."

"When's the last time you were right?"

"You'd have to check with my wife. She keeps a list."