Dark Ambition (43 page)

"Then you must also know that they've given the police enough to charge you with two counts of pandering, which the last time I looked is a felony in this state. Since you've sent both of these young women to New Jersey on your business during the last year, that's a federal offense."

"Let's be real clear about this," she said defiantly. "I never mention any illegal act on the phone. My girls are hired out as escorts to go to dinner or the theater. I instruct them expressly never to engage in any illegal act. They sign a paper agreeing that they won't do that. I can even show you the papers Trish and Sabrina signed if you'd like. If they end up doing something illegal, like soliciting for prostitution, there's no way it can lead back to me. So you don't have a thing to charge me with."

"That's not what Trish and Sabrina say."

Alexandra snorted. "Don't underestimate me. My old man didn't do much for me, but he taught me to know when a cop was bluffing. I know those girls. I know what they'd say."

"And in addition, we've got you on income tax evasion."

She shook her head. "Like hell you do. I pay taxes on every dollar I earn."

"Well, there's a certain gentleman who paid you last year in excess of one hundred thousand dollars and—"

"Whoever he was, it was all listed as taxable income. Talk to my accountant. I use Pricewaterhouse. You sure you don't want some coffee?"

As far as Jennifer was concerned, Ben's game plan wasn't scoring any points, so she said, "Yeah, I'd like a cup."

Alexandra started toward the kitchen. "Do you want any croissants?"

"No." Irritated, Ben tapped his fingers firmly on the glass-topped coffee table. "Bitch," he mumbled softly. "We're going to break you, sweetie. Wait and see."

When Alexandra returned with four Wedgwood cups and saucers on a teak tray, Ben said, "This is no joke. You may have bought off the New York police, but I'm prepared to recommend a federal case based on the New Jersey calls you sent Sabrina and Trish out on. I'll pursue it if you force me to."

Alexandra regarded Ben with disbelief. "Please don't start all that bullshit again. I know what my legal situation is better than you do. I've got a law degree from NYU."

"You're kidding," Jennifer replied.

"Hardly, Miss Moore. I also spent two years working for a large New York law firm. Doing stock-and-bond issues. That life totally sucks. No pun intended. So I decided to go into business for myself. I've been damn successful at it."

"Doesn't it bother you that it's illegal?"

"Going out on a date isn't illegal."

Ben said, "If you've got such a great business, you wouldn't like to be charged with arranging to transport women across state lines for an immoral purpose."

"My lawyers could beat a charge like that faster than you could file it."

Alexandra smugly picked up her cup and sipped some coffee.

"But could they beat a murder conspiracy charge?"

She set her cup down hard, spilling coffee in the saucer. The game was over. "What? Whose murder?"

"Robert Winthrop's."

Fear appeared in her eyes. "You've got to be kidding. I had nothing to do with that gardener."

"Forget the gardener," Ben said. "He didn't kill Winthrop."

"Then who did?"

"A woman you sent to have sex with Winthrop. She brought a gun with her and decided to use it. And we've got you for conspiracy to commit murder because we figure that somebody knew you could get a woman into Winthrop's house. They paid you a lot to get this woman in. That's how we figure it."

Her face went rigid. "What makes you think I knew Robert Winthrop?"

Jennifer jumped in smoothly. "That's what Peg Barton told us in London. You even split her fee for servicing our distinguished secretary of state." She snapped open her briefcase, pulled out a brown envelope, and tossed it to Alexandra. "Copies of canceled checks of payments Winthrop made to you in the last year."

Ben turned up the heat. "I must advise you, Miss Hart, that you are now the target of the criminal investigation into the death of Robert Winthrop. You know what that means. If I were you, I'd hire a good criminal lawyer. You're going to need one."

She raised her hand weakly. "Hold it a second. Time-out. I don't need a lawyer; I'm ready to make a deal. I'll talk to you."

"And what kind of deal did you have in mind?" Ben asked.

"I'll tell you everything I know about Winthrop. In return, I get immunity from any murder conspiracy charge as well as the transporting of women across state lines for an immoral act."

Ben shot back quickly, "I'll give you the interstate transportation. That's it. On murder conspiracy you get nothing. From the facts we now have, you're in deep shit. You've got to clear yourself."

She sipped her coffee and stared off toward the window, weighing her options.

Finally, Alexandra said, "I've got nothing to hide on the Winthrop murder. In fact, I'd like you to catch the SOB who did it," she added bitterly. "He cost me a bundle by taking out one of my best customers. Will you give me the immunity on the other charge in writing?"

Ben replied, "I thought you'd never ask."

He reached into his briefcase, pulled out the document, and handed it to her. She read it quickly and pushed it aside.

Jennifer placed a tape recorder on the coffee table and pushed the record button as Alexandra began to speak.

"On Friday, the day before Winthrop died, a woman called me. She said that her name was Ann Winthrop, Robert's wife. Naturally, I was worried. It's always messy if a client's wife finds my number and calls."

Jennifer was nonplussed. What was going on? Ann had never told her about this call.

"Well, anyhow, Mrs. Winthrop said that she and her husband had an open marriage. She knew that he used my services. She wanted to give him a surprise for his birthday on Saturday afternoon at two o'clock. At home. A session with one of my best girls."

"This is preposterous," Jennifer said.

Ben shushed her. He wanted to hear where this was going. "What else did this woman who said she was Mrs. Winthrop tell you?"

"That on Saturday I should send the girl down on the Delta Shuttle at nine-thirty, then call Robert and tell him a surprise was coming. I shouldn't tell him who was responsible for the surprise."

Jennifer was looking at Alexandra in total disbelief. The madam had shifted to face Ben before continuing. "Mrs. Winthrop said she or someone else would meet the girl at National Airport with a sign that said Rome Industrial. They would take the girl to Robert. She also told me that she'd have fifty thousand dollars in cash delivered to me in a few hours to cover transportation, the girl and so forth."

"That's a lot of money," Ben said, "for something like this."

She eyed Ben suspiciously. "Meaning that I should have guessed something more was involved?"

The woman was no dummy, Ben thought. How'd she manage to make such a mess out of her life?

"Honey, you'd be surprised when sex is involved how people spend money. I once had a New York Yankee who—"

Ben interrupted her. "Let's stick to this situation. Did you get the money?"

"A courier, a young man, delivered it an hour later in a blank brown envelope."

"What company was the courier from?"

"I have no idea. I didn't pay attention."

"Did you have any reason to believe that Ann Winthrop, or whoever was calling you pretending to be Ann Winthrop, might have been involved with a foreign government?"

She shook her head. "No."

"So you took the money?"

"Yes. Which I will, of course, report as taxable income at the end of the year."

"No doubt. And?"

"Saturday morning, I told Betsy to take the nine-thirty Delta Shuttle to Washington. She's gorgeous. A new girl from Iowa. She was excited about the idea of being with the secretary of state." Alexandra's mouth turned down. "It was the worst thing I ever did in my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously, it led to Robert's death. Like I said, he was one of my best customers. Dummy," she muttered, angry at herself. "I was stupid. I should have seen through it. The money blinded me."

Ben brought her back to the story. "What happened to Betsy when she got to Washington?"

"I didn't find out about any of this until she got back. But a blond woman met her at the airport. Said she was Ann Winthrop's secretary. When they got into the blonde's car, the blonde handed Betsy ten thousand dollars, and said the plans had changed. Robert was tied up on some urgent state department business during the afternoon. The blonde said she was taking Betsy to the Washington Hilton Hotel. She handed her the key to room 742 and told Betsy to be there
that
evening from six on. Robert would come by as soon as he could."

Jennifer shook her head in dismay. Ann Winthrop didn't have a blond secretary.

"What'd Betsy do?"

"She'd never been in Washington before. So she did the monuments in the afternoon, went to the top of the Washington Monument, touched old Abe Lincoln, and looked at Thomas Jefferson. Then she went back to the Hilton at about five-thirty. She turned on the TV and heard about Robert's death. In two seconds, she packed up and came back to New York."

"Where's Betsy right now?" he asked.

"At home, I think. Over on East Seventy-second."

"Get her over here now."

Alexandra was hesitant. "Can I ask why? I'd really like to spare her."

"Well, you can't. I want her to make an ID from some pictures."

* * *

Betsy arrived fifteen minutes later. One look at her, and Ben knew that Alexandra wasn't exaggerating. The woman was gorgeous. About twenty-four years old, she was large-busted with sandy brown hair and a smooth, clean complexion. Straight from the farm, she had an innocence about her. New York hadn't yet hardened her.

He could see the fear in her eyes as her gaze darted from one of them to the other. "Are you cops?" she stammered.

"We're helping them," Ben responded in an authoritative tone. "As long as you cooperate with us, nothing will happen to you. I promise."

From Betsy's expression, she wasn't persuaded. Alexandra took her into a back bedroom. When they returned a few minutes later, Betsy's look had changed. She had been intimidated into following her whoremaster's command.

After she corroborated Alexandra's story, Ben handed her a picture of the blonde, taken that morning at George Washington hospital. Betsy's fingers were wet and clammy. "Is that the woman who met you at the airport?" Ben asked.

She stared at it for a long moment. The bandage on the nose and facial bruises were making the ID difficult. Finally, she squinted, then nodded.

"You're sure of it?"

"I'm sure. I'll never forget what she looked like. She gave me the creeps."

"What do you mean?"

"She had a dead look in her eyes. She was a killer, that one. I could tell."

Ben told her to write her address and telephone number on a small piece of paper. With a trembling hand, she gave it to him.

"Please, you won't tell my parents what I'm doing in New York, will you? They think I'm working for an advertising agency."

* * *

"You guys don't believe for a minute Ann Winthrop made that call, do you?" Jennifer said as soon as they were in Mark's car on the way to LaGuardia. She was in the front seat. She turned around and looked at Ben in the back.

He put his hand on her arm to calm her. "I agree. There's no reason to believe Ann did it. Anyone could have paid a woman, or asked a secretary or a woman friend to make the call, pretend she was Ann Winthrop, and follow the script. Our George Nesbitt could have even made the call. Personally, I think Ambassador Liu arranged it. We learned how deft he was at setting up encounters of this type from Peg Barton in London. Still..." he hesitated. He hated asking Jennifer because she'd chew his head off, but he had to. "You'd better touch base with Ann to close the loop."

Jennifer sighed. "All right, I'll call her." Jennifer pulled the cell phone out of her purse.

After she explained to Ann what had happened, Ann laughed. "That's the most preposterous thing I've ever heard. Me arranging a prostitute for Robert?"

"That's what I told Ben. Did you ever talk to Alexandra Hart?"

"I never even heard of the woman until we found Robert's checks to her. And by the way, Robert's birthday is April fifteenth, tax day. A wife would know that. She'd never use a phony birthday as an excuse for a surprise gift to her husband, because it's so patently false."

"Okay, I get it," Jennifer said.

When she told Ben what Ann had said, he was convinced she hadn't made the call. Somebody had arranged for another woman to make that call to Alexandra Hart. It was Liu, Ben was now certain.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

Ben and Jennifer went immediately to the Department of Justice from National Airport.

"It's time for us to go see Ambassador Liu," Ben announced as they walked through the door into the AG's office.

Hawthorne was in the midst of dictating to his secretary. He rose from his chair with a start. "Let's take a break, Mary Beth."