Murder Miscalculated (15 page)

“I hope, My Dear Kid, that you will not disappoint me.” The date specified for our lunch was the next day.

“Oh, hell,” Sammie said when I showed it to him later that day. I was there to drop off another assortment of wallets. “Don’t go, Kid. I’ve heard about these lunches of hers. There’s only two ways you leave from them.”

“And they are?”

“Through the front door, if you sign on the dotted line and agree to work for Doris.”

“And the other?”

“Through the back door with your fingers broken, if you don’t.” Sammie handed the invitation back to me. “Don’t go, Kid.”

“The problem is that I have to keep up the appearance for at least a few more days until Talbot finishes up his operation.”

Sammie grunted as he went over the figures on the tally sheet and then handed it to me. “I still don’t trust that guy, Kid. I wish I’d never gotten mixed up with him. I prefer working with crooks. At least you know they’re trying to rip you off.”

I signed my name to the tally sheet while mentally adding the value of the stolen goods I’d turned over to Sammie. I gave a small whistle. “I didn’t know I was on such a roll.”

Sammie smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing for the cops that you’re on their side. Otherwise the news would be carrying stories about the latest crime wave.”

Sammie’s words of warning still echoed in my head as I walked up the steps of The Empire Room and pushed my way through the lobby doors as if I owned the place. I figured a bold front was my best move, despite the lack of anything with which to back it up.

Although it was only a few minutes before eleven, I felt a bit like a western gunfighter meeting his adversary at noon for a showdown—except in my case, the middle of the street was a plush and ornate dining room where the sparkle of chandeliers competed with the sparkle of diamonds rings on so many of its patrons’ fingers.

My illusion of control vanished in the length of time it took someone to jab something hard into my side that felt like I imagined a gun would feel. Jeremy and another of Doris’s gang stood close beside me.

“Come on, Kid. This way.” He jabbed me again, and I shuffled off with them. We crossed the wide lobby with them not letting me get more than a few inches away as we walked. There must have been a dozen people in the lobby, but no one paid attention as we pushed through a service door at the back.

Our journey continued down an industrial hallway whose last refurbishing had been when Eisenhower was president. A flight of black iron stairs brought us down to the open door of a boiler room.

The other guy felt my coat pockets until he found my cell phone. He showed it to Jeremy, who shoved it into his jacket pocket.

Jeremy shoved me inside the boiler room and slammed the door shut before I could catch my footing. I heard the doorknob rattle as he locked it.

I was alone.

I didn’t shout.

I didn’t pound on the door.

I admit to trying the doorknob.

I also paced a lot. The room was about twenty-five feet by fifteen. A large steam boiler took up most of the space. It was hot, and the air smelled of oil. A constant hiss of unseen steam and water was just loud enough to notice but not too loud to tune out.

As I paced the short open space on the floor, I made a list of the mistakes I had made in my life. This was near the top. I tried to look at my watch, but it wasn’t there. Ever since I’ve been carrying a cell phone, I’ve haven’t bothered to wear a watch very often.

I tried counting to a thousand as a way to mark time but was distracted somewhere around four-hundred and fifty by a mouse running across the floor. Mainly I just paced.

The door opened again after what I calculated to be four hours. Jeremy stood in the entrance.

“Come on,” he said, echoing our previous conversation.

I stayed where I was and held up my hand. “Just one moment.”

Jeremy looked puzzled. “What? You can’t do that.”

I put my fists on my hips. “Answer me one question, and I’ll go with you.”

He looked around as if I was trying to con him. Satisfied there were no lurking dangers, he said, “Okay. What’s your question?”

“What time is it?”

He told me. Exactly two hours and ten minutes since I’d arrived. So much for my keen sense of time.

The lobby was empty of all but a few patrons. They took no notice as we left the service door and crossed the lobby. Jeremy opened one of the leather-paneled doors for me. I paused, and he gave me a little shove.

The dining room was at near capacity, and the air was filled with the low murmur of conversations, competing with the sound of the small grand piano near the entrance. The pianist was a short woman with blonde, spiked hair. She was dressed in black slacks, a matching black jacket and a starched white blouse. She smiled at me when she saw I was watching her, then turned back to the sheet music in front of her. It was an old Beatles song, gentrified by its arrangement and setting. I wondered if such music would accompany my fingers being broken.

Probably not, I decided. That would be done back in the boiler room so that my screams didn’t disturb the diners and spoil their lunch.

Jeremy poked me. “Come on, Kid. Get going.”

Doris Whitaker was at her usual table on the far side of the large room, and I wove my way through the tables to her. She looked me up and down and nodded as I arrived.

“How nice of you to accept my invitation, Kid, and that tie works very well with the shirt. Was that your choice, or did your wife Lynn pick it out for you?”

My heart grew cold at her words. Doris was making it clear that Lynn would be a target as well if I didn’t go along. “Hello, Doris. Thank you for inviting me. May I?” I motioned to the empty chair opposite her.

The two who had grabbed me sat on either side. The one whose name I had yet to learn was on my left, and Jeremy on my right. I noticed both were keeping their chairs at a slight angle to the table. I guess Chad had warned them of what had happened last time.

I became aware of a pair of lengthy legs in fishnet stockings and stiletto heels standing next to me, and a waitress placed a salad in front of me along with a glass of iced tea. I should have thanked her, but under the circumstances my manners were diminished.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” said Doris. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I picked up the iced tea and took a sip.

“Not at all, Doris.” I put down my drink and picked up the salad fork. Start with the outside and work your way in, Fast Eddie had taught me all those years ago. I silently thanked his ghost for those years of etiquette lessons and tucked into the salad. If it was going to be the last meal I ate with unbroken fingers, then at least it was a good one. After a couple of bites I caught Doris studying me. “It’s very good,” I said, motioning toward the salad with the fork.

“Kid,” said Doris. “I’m very disappointed in you. I thought you had better sense.”

“Don’t tell me I’m using the wrong fork after all,” I replied with a cheerfulness I didn’t feel.

Movement behind me stopped my thoughts. Chad had walked up behind me. This did not look good. “Hello, Chad,” said Doris. “You’re late. You know I don’t like tardiness.”

Chad answered her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Whitaker. It took longer than I expected to get the information.”

“And?”

Chad went around the table and leaned over to whisper to her.

I watched her eyes. She showed momentary surprise, and then her eyes grew cold. “I see. You did very well, Chad. Thank you.”

Doris motioned to the guy on my left. “Gordon, go back downstairs and make certain everything is ready.”

He got up and left, and Chad sat down in his place. Jeremy, on my other side, got up and stood next to me. I wasn’t going to be able to duck out so fast this time.

Doris looked at me with regret. “I had so hoped we could work together, but now I see that it was never to be.”

I swallowed. This was not going the way it was supposed to go. I started to protest. “Well, now, Doris, let’s not give up completely on working together. Maybe we can work something out.”

Doris shook her head. “Do you know what Chad just told me?”

It was my turn to shake my head.

“He told me he was late because he was checking out some information I’ve recently received.”

“Information about what?”

“Information about you, Kid. That you are working for the feds and are helping them build a case against me.”

I almost laughed with relief. “Oh, come on, Doris. You don’t believe that, do you?”

“I have to admit I had my doubts.”

I started to relax. Too soon, as it turned out.

“Chad, why don’t you tell The Kid where you were this morning?”

We both turned to Chad, whose wolfish grin was working overtime.

He cracked his knuckles. “The man who gave Mrs. Whitaker the dope on you also told her how to confirm what he said. I went to your bookstore and handed a note to the old geezer behind the counter and told him to give it to Agent Cochran.”

My heart felt as if it had stopped.

Chad continued. “The old guy went to the back room, and a minute later this other dude came out with the note.” Doris motioned to him to continue.

Chad went on to describe how Cochran, confused by the note, which was blank inside, had come out from the back room and identified himself. Chad had excused himself and left.

I barely listened to what he was saying. All I knew was that I was in trouble, deep trouble.

I became aware that Chad’s story had ended, and all three of them were looking at me. It was strange. I was sitting in a crowded, swank restaurant where people were talking and laughing and enjoying their meals and drinks. I was surrounded by people in a public place but was as alone as I’ve ever been in my life.

I made an effort to talk my way out of it. “It isn’t what you think, Doris.”

“Shut the hell up,” Doris said with a snarl that exposed the woman under the façade. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a stool pigeon.” She clasped her hands tight as though trying to control her emotion. After a few seconds she looked at Chad and then at Jeremy. “Are you boys up to what needs to be done, or should I do it?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Whitaker, I can do it,” replied Chad.

Not to be left out, Jeremy bobbed his head up and down and said, “Me, too, Mrs. Whitaker.”

Doris checked her tiny, elegant wristwatch and gave a quick glance around the restaurant.

“It’s too crowded to get him out without creating a scene. We’ll have to wait.”

Something caught her eye behind me. “Shit, I forgot about your lunch.”

A waitress arrived a few seconds later with a large silver platter carried above her head. Doris waved and awarded her a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m sorry, dear, but we aren’t ready for our entrées just yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll take these back to the kitchen.” The waitress turned to go, but the huge tray got away from her, and an instant later Chad found himself with a lap full of food.

“You clumsy cow!” shouted Doris. The waitress took no notice and instead delivered a powerful kick with her fishnet-stockinged leg and drove a wickedly pointed, high-heeled shoe right into Jeremy’s crotch. He doubled over and fell with a cry. Half a second later the waitress swiveled and brought the empty tray crashing down on Chad’s head. He fell face forward onto the table. It was all over in no more than three seconds.

The waitress grabbed my shoulder. “Come on, Kid!” she shouted in a voice I love. I looked up at her from where I sat. Her blonde wig was askew, and I could see black hair under it.

“Lynn?”

She didn’t answer. She just hauled me to my feet and gave me a kiss.

I tossed my napkin on the table in front of Doris. She had a dazed look on her face. “Sorry, Doris, got to run.”

I took a few precious seconds to grab my cell phone from Jeremy’s jacket.

“Come on, Kid, let’s get out of here!” Lynn tugged on my arm.

She and I joined hands and ran out of the Empire Room, past bewildered patrons and staff alike. As we ran past the pianist near the door, she gave us a mock salute, then continued playing.

Lynn paused in the lobby long enough to take off her shoes. “I can run faster without them.”

We kept on running out the front doors and down the steps to where a car was waiting. Lynn opened the back door, and we piled in. Cochran was behind the wheel. He punched the gas, the tires squealed, and we took off.

I was angry, and it scared me how angry I was.

Lynn squeezed my hand. “Kid,” she said in a voice that showed she was scared of my anger, as well. “You’ve got to calm down.”

She looked at Cochran. “Cochran’s right. We don’t know for certain Talbot’s the one who told Doris that he was here at the store.”

It had been less than an hour since my narrow escape from The Empire Room, but it was more than enough time for my anger to build.

“Who else could have told her?” I demanded of Cochran yet again as we sat at the table in the back room.

He didn’t answer this time, knowing nothing he had said so far or could say would satisfy me.

The buzzing of Cochran’s cell phone broke the silence. He flipped it open and mouthed the name of the caller, “Talbot.” Then he answered.

Lynn and I listened as he gave his boss a condensed version of what had happened. Talbot must not have responded right away, as after a long pause Cochran asked, “Are you still there?” A moment later he added, “Yes, both Greg and Lynn are here with me.”

He lowered the cell phone from his ear, placed it on the table and pressed a button. “Okay, we’re on speaker phone.”

“Smith? Talbot here. I understand you ran into some difficulty.”

My face grew hot. “Yes, I suppose you could call almost being killed some difficulty.”

“Well, I’m glad things worked out okay. Ms. Vargas, Cochran says you saved the day. Nice work.”