Mitchell Smith (52 page)

Love, Mother P.S. You’re the pleasure and triumph of my life, sweetheart.

Ellie put the letter back in its envelope, and lay think. It seemed to her that Sally had loaded a lot of her own problems onto her daughter. A young girl like Sonia didn’t need to have that sex stuff thrown at her that way. -And, there was something else . . . Ellie took the letter out of its envelope again, leafed through it, and found the page, Then she got up to get her purse, and looked up Susan Margolies’ number in her notebook-came back, sat on the edge of the bed, and called her.

“Hello?”

“Th I i I s is Ellie Klein. NYPD? I spoke with you last week.

Silence.

“My partner and I are coming over to see you tomorrow morning. I don’t know what time. -I think it would be a good idea if you were there all morning . . . didn’t make us come looking for you. Understand?”

“What did you say Your name was?”

“Klein. You know my name.”

Silence.

“You be there, O.K.? You be there waiting from seven o’clock on,” Ellie said, and hung up. Then she tried calling Tommy in Brooklyn, but the line was busy.

Delgado got several calls on his limo phone, coming ing about it for a moment.

into town fast-no siren on, but slap light revolving to ease him swiftly down boulevards washed medium yellow by tall stooping streetlights. The fourth call was Cherusco’s.

“Well . . .

The Chief sighed. “John,” he said, “-I shouldn’t have to tell you these things . . . John, when people with the power to embarrass and severely damage the Department commence a course of action that lowers their balls deeper and deeper into our pocket, it seems reasonable to encourage, rather than discourage. -Besides, we’re one up.”

“For the time being,” Cherusco said. “And I’ve got some advice for you, Chief. -It might be a good idea to tell your boy Anderson we’ve had a cover tap on that corner phone near Flowers’ for three months. We got it for the Pisano thing, and it’s still in place.”

“I’ll certainly pass that on, John,” the Chief of the Department said, pushed a button, and took his fifth call.

Father Gruenwald, and arrangements.

The Counter Intelligence people had left no comforts in the Village apartment when they’d gone, and Tucker had been lucky to find a half-melted bar of soap with two curly brown hairs sticking to it for his shower. The shower did him good, though-The soap didn’t offend; he was in that rare tender mood when he felt grateful for other people’s insignia. He took his shower, dried with a small dirty towel, and looked at his face in the mirror over the sink. The right side was very swollen, right eye almost closed, black skin mottled blacker. There was still a buzzing in that ear. He walked into the bedroom, lifted his suitcase onto the bed-his belly and side were sore, too, from the kicks-and took fresh chinos, socks, Fruit of the Looms, and a white shirt from his suitcase, and put them on. Put on his running shoes, too. -Felt better on his feet.

At the closet-he’d stacked Budreau’s and Mason’s suitcases in there, out of the way-he took his Italian pistol in its shoulder harness down from a hook and strapped it on then went back to his suitcase for a tan windbreaker.

He walked to the apartment door and out, doublelocked the door behind him, went down the hall and one flight of stairs, and out the building’s front door and stoop into Thompson Street. A line from Camino Real occurred to him. “-The streets are brilliant, tonight.”

Thompson Street, shadowy, quiet on a cool autumn night, opened into Bleecker, blazing in yellow and red, decorated in series with cross-street arches of light bulbs reflecting in pavement still wet from rain and thick with traffic, foot and vehicular-ambulating oddities (rarer now than they had been), tired tourists doing their last round before going uptown to their hotels, and ethnic kids in from the boroughs for adventure, all drifting toward or away from Mulberry Street and the last night of San Gennaro, the festival late this year, delayed by the death and funeral of the parish priest.

Tucker walked a block east on Bleecker, crossed the street, walked down a flight of steps into a drugstore, and bought a pair of large-lensed dark glasses for twelve dollars and seventy-three cents. He climbed up again to a shadier, green-tinted street, all lights dimmed, the night enhanced, even sounds seeming subdued.

Tucker walked back down Bleecker to MacDougal, then up a block to a coffee house called the Olive Tree went in, and up some steps into a large room, busy: dimly-lit and Levantine, and saw the Colonel sitting in a booth against the opposite wall.

A girl came to seat him, but Tucker said, “My buddy’s over there,”

nodded to the Colonel, and sidled through the crowded tables to him. The Colonel had taken off his British Warm; it was folded on the seat beside him.

Tucker slid into the booth and sat opposite.

“That’s a bad face, Tuck,” the Colonel said. His breath was sweet with alcohol.

“Feels just the way it looks.”

“Well,” the Colonel said, “-the thing’s all over TV.”

“I’ll bet,” Tucker said. A Chaplin film, a silent, was being projected on a large screen at the back of the room. Charlie was having trouble with a big man with thick black eyebrows.

“I’ve heard of jinxed operations,” the Colonel said. -I suppose this one takes the cake.”

a tray. rown hair

“-Just in time to save miling u at her, and the girl p Colonel a drink, and Tucker

“Your dinners will be coming in a minute,”

lifted the tray, and left. she said, “Bourbon,” the Colonel said.

“Doubles. -I think we need them.”

Tucker took a long drink. “—Kicked Mason’s ass down On those tracks-After that moron proceeded to fry himself-and commenced to tear Budreau up. We are talking here, about one tough motherfucker. We should have 6t shot i him in the back of the head.”

“No, no, no!” the Colonel murmured on a high note, trying to keep his voice down. “-You can’t pee in these people’s faces, Sergeant. I told you! There has to be at least the Possibility it was muggers, some thugs picking on the wrong man. You can kill a cop in a robbery or a brawl, but you can’t assassinate one without The New York Times sticking its nose in!”

“We Should have assassinated this mother; that’s for shit sure,” Tucker said, and had more of his drink. ‘-You

“Jinxed’ doesn’t really describe it, does it, colonel? -A fucking disaster , would be somewhat more accurate.”

The Colonel looked away, out across the room to the bar. “I already ordered……

‘-First we had that nut with the groceries; now, tonight, we had this animal. Let me tell you, that cop chewed Mason up and spit him out real quick. -And Mason had already stuck him in the back twice. Seven inches of steel, double-edged.”

Bizarre,” the Colonel said, still gazing over at the bar. The Colonel was looking old; his face seemed to Tucker to have been cut out of light green paper by someone very skillful. An artist.

“Sir, this operation has been bizarre for some time.

… Tucker took off his dark glasses for a moment to wipe his right eye with a napkin; it was tearing. With his glasses off, the Colonel’s face turned to white aper.

“-We are also losing the body count on this one. P

“Tell me about it,” the Colonel sid, green again, and smiled as a thin gray-eyed girl with long light-b came to the my life,” the smiled back the other.

know how many times in my life, since I was grown, 9” He held up two fingers.

have been knocked on my ass “Tonight was the second.“And if that man had been able me, I’d be right down there on those tracks to V_et hold of I stuck him wiib them. -Mason had stuck him twice, and twice.”

“What about Budreau)” fighting for his life, is what “Budreau did O.K.

He was he was doing

. And he didn’t make it

“Those boys,” the Colonel said, mournful. “These?”

“Well,” he said ,_ boys . and ook a drink. I called ry pleased, feet a useful lesson Washington. They are ve has been administered, Not so happy about the casual about that; said they were excessive. Gave me ties. Upset.”

some goddamn … nonsense…. with their dinners on The girl came back to their booth her tray, and served them out

,, the Colonel said to Tucker, ,I ordered shish kebab, d here.”

—supposed to be very 900 ewing on the It was good, but Tucker had trouble ch right side of his mouth. He tried chewing on the left side, and that was better.

After a few bites, Tucker said, “What next … ?” -[bey didn’t say we could leave,” the Colonel said, finished his drink, and looked around the room for their waitress. “-But I don’t think there’ll be anything next.

Washington thinks we’ve made our point … they doubt there’ll be any more police activity on the Gaither thing, or in our direction either.”

Their waitress started to walk past the booth, heading back toward the kitchen, but the Colonel held up his empty glass.

,,miss … I’ll have a rfifll on this, I think.”

When she’d gone, the Colonel, flushed, livelier,,, said, “I think the boys in blue understand us, now….

I ” Tucker said, took a bite Another such victory …

of shish kebab, and chewed it carefully.

Colonel said, looking toward “Pyrrhus … yes,” the the bar.

Ellie made herself a small icecream soda with ginger ale and Hiagen-Dazs, vanilla, finished it in the kitchen ignoring Mayo’s begging-then went to the hall phone and tried Nardone again. Still busy. She thought of calling Clara, and decided to do it, rather than wait for Clara to call her. It was getting late.

She had to go and get her purse for the number, then called the Palmer House and asked for Clara’s room.

Clara picked up on the second ring.

“Yes?” Very businesslike.

“Very businesslike, Clar.”

“Oh, you bitch … I’m glad you called.”

“What’s happening? Is Henry coming through for you?”

“Darting, I don’t think Henry can come through for me. These Midwest guys scare him to death , Very, very stile earnest. Very, very ex-FBI.

I think they I carry cuffs on the back of their belts, just in case.”

“You really think they won’t appoint you9”

“Oh, not to worry, I’ll get something. Tomorrow’s probably going to be the last day of the conference, coming down to the wire, -I’m playing it very ladylike, very quietly competent, very eager to team from men with such experience. They ask me out for dinner; I go to dinner, I shake my butt a little, I laugh at their jokes a lot, and when asked to dance, I gracefully take the hard-on on my hip. -I think I’ll get something.”

“it sounds like a pain in the ass to me, Clar.”

“That, I won’t let them do. -And if they do give me assistant fed pros, they have a big surprise coming, because little Clara is going to bust their chops. I’ll kick ass from Cicero to Chevy Chase.”

“Well … I think you’ll get it.”

“And if I do–and I have to move out here in January . . . ‘ ‘ ?

I’ll be out here for a year, anyway, on this Teamster thing-which will come to nothing, by the way, courtesy of the present administration-I’ll be out here for a year, anyway……

“I know . . .”

“Well, little Clara has learned her lesson. -Begging don’t help. So, little Clara ain’t a going’ to beg.”

“I do love you, Clar-“

“But not ‘that way’? Not forever and a day?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t think so, either. Well, what’s new with the Gaither thing?

How the hell’s that big case going … ?

And how’s that little rat of a cat?-I almost said ‘our little rat of a cat,’ but I suppose that’s no longer accurate.”

“I think the case has started to give__,, “No shit?-That’s great!”

“First place, she was robbed. We think that was the motive.

“How much?”

“Over a hundred thousand, cash.”

“Then I think you’re right. -What does the Male Principal think?”

“I don’t know yet. -But I think Tommy’ll agree

“Well, go to it, teaT ‘cm up. -And Mayo’s been missing me?” -Ellie jumped a little when her door buzzer sounded. -The night man usually called on the intercom if any body asked for her.

“Clar, somebody’s at the door-“

“O.K, OX-signing off. I should be back in town in a couple of days.

I’ll call you.

“O.K. Bve-bye …

The buzzer sOunded again as Ellie and she u tied her robe tighter and went to took =g1p the peep.

shoulder of a raincoat, then she At first, she saw only the somebody standing behind himsaw Anderson’s face and and unlocked the door. here in a damp tan gabardine Anderson was standing tim in his epauleted blue.

raincoat. Leahy behind was with a woman detective Ellie knew named hall.

“‘What . Ellie said . - made an odd bare feet a slow wave of cold.

Anderson in face, then started to say something. on’t tell me. it’s

“Don’t tell me,” Ellie said. “-D bad.” She backed into the apartment, and Anderson led g, “Honey …

them in after her with Terrier Reise saYin honey, please. Come on, now

… woman detective, -Is it Tommy?” E11i.e said to the “It’s not Tommy.

-Is he dead”” ut her arm around “Oh, honey,” Terrier Reise said, and p ‘

g up any more.

Ellie’s shoulders to stop her from backin

,,-I’m afraid son’t you just say so9l’ Ellie said, “well … why did hearing her words oddly low-pitched and long-drawn-out.

Everything moved in the slowest motion. “Come in the living room and sit down,” she said to them in the new voice, and tried to shrug Terrier Reise’s arm off her shoulders. -This is the worst dream I ever had, she thought, and must have said it out loud, because Anderson made his face again.

“He was killed in a fight in the subway,- Anderson said.

“Tommy wasn’t killed in a fight,” Ellie said. ‘-Do You know anybody that could kill Tommy in a fight?”

She had goose bumps all over, it was such a ridiculous idea.

“Come here and sit down, dear,” Terri Reise said.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone,” Elbe said. ‘-If you want to take care of somebody, why don’t you go and take care of somebody else?”