Swan Dive - Jeremiah Healy (22 page)

He passed his hand over his eyes once, like a jogger
wiping off sweat. "I gotta take a piss," he said, hurrying
by me into the bathroom and closing the door.

He was in there maybe a minute, water running, when I
heard the voice from the alcove. I jumped up, then went on in.

The answering machine, which I’d left running on
Play when Nino had called me from the telescope. The tape had almost
reached its end. I hit Stop, turned down the volume, and pressed
Review. I listened to the tape rewind for only five seconds, when
what was recorded had passed. Then I replayed it.

The beginning of the message was gone, probably
erased automatically by the recording of messages after it. The only
part left was "noon, because I really should like to, uh, see
you. Please call, but at the office here. Uh, thanks so much."
The incoming tape reached its end, and I turned off the machine.

I walked into the living
area near the telescope. If the architect had put in bay windows, I
would have been able to look northward, maybe all the way to
Swampscott.

* * *

"Guess I went a little loco, man."

We were in the elevator riding down, and Nino hadn’t
spoken since he’d come out of the bathroom.

"Don’t worry about it."

He took a deep breath, let it out.

We got off at the lobby level and moved past the
guard, who stood with his hands behind his back. He smiled
officiously at us.

Outside, Nino said, "You need anything else from
me?"

"I don’t think so."

He made no effort to walk away. "Man, you been
straight with me, I be straight with you."

I thought about the tape, but said, "Go on."

"Staking out you place, I see J .J. and Terdell
messing around the cans. Then I spot their tail."

"Tail?"

"Sur-veil-lance. I think about telling you last
night, but I want to sleep on it, turn it around a little first. The
tail was you classic unmarked sedan. I see it pull in and park while
J.J. and Terdell getting ready for you. I was already there, so the
tail didn’t make me."

"Who was it?"

"Two guys, I didn’t try to see closer than
that. But one thing sure, they good. Terdell and J.J. grab you, the
tail wait till they away to turn on and come out. They follow you, I
follow them out to the construction yard."

I considered it. Nino said, "You got to know
what I’m thinking."

"Cops."

"That’s right. And that mean they see you get
snatched and don’t feel like doing nothing about it."

"That mean they see me getting beat up, too?"

"Don’t think so. I do a little recon before I
go into the pipes. The tail just wait outside the construction yard,
lights off, like they only care about where J.J .’s car go next and
not so much about you."

"Thanks, Nino." I

"Yeah, well, I gotta go. Got a major
chest-cutting at the Beth Israel, don’t you fucken know."

Dr. Rodriguez turned and walked away, pulling out his
stethoscope and twirling it like a foot patrolman with a whistle.
 

TWENTY
-♦-

I dialed my answering service from a booth on
Broadway. No messages. I tried Chris and drew Eleni, who told me
Chris was out but due back after 2:00. I told her it was important
that I speak with him and that I would be there at 2:00 sharp. She
apologized for his not calling me back the previous evening, but
didn’t give me any reasons.

I hung up, called Felicia Arnold’s office, and
waited through receptionist and secretary for her soft, breathy
hello. —

"Ms. Arnold, John Cuddy."

"I recognized your voice. And please call me
Felicia."

"I was hoping I could see you today. Around
noon?"

"I believe I can work you in."

"At your office."

"If you insist."

"Ms.--Felicia, please."

"All right. Eleven-thirty?"

“
Thank you. See you then."

I got in the Fiat and took
Route 1A through Revere, past the Wonderland dog track and the
Suffolk Downs horse track. The road breaks over Lynn Beach, then
curves north through Swampscott. I found the building again easily,
feeling confident that old Bryce would be faithfully manning his
computer terminal.

* * *

“
Oh, Mr .... uh, Curry, isn’t it?"

He looked insecure, uneasy that I’d walked in on
him while his fingers were fondling the keyboard.

"Close. Cuddy, John Cuddy."

"Oh, yes, sorry. Names . . ."

“
I’m the one who’s sorry, Mr. Stansfield,
breaking in on you again like this. But I have a few
more
questions that I thought you might help me with."

"Please, uh, sit down."

"The last time I saw you, I remember your
mentioning that Roy Marsh came to work here about the time your uncle
died."

"That’s right. Well, uh, just after, of
course."

"While you were going through your divorce."

"Right."

“
Who was your attorney?"

"My . . . uh, for the divorce, you mean?"

"For the divorce."

"I don’t quite, uh, see how that’s . . ."

"Any of my business?"

“
Wel1, y—no, no. I realize, uh, the police have
to look into everything, but . . ."

"I’m not a cop, Mr. Stansfield."

“
But you said—"

"Only that I was investigating Marsh’s death.
And I am."

He looked confused. "The police, they, uh, asked
me whether I, whether the firm ever hired any Boston private . . .
you’re, uh, the one they think killed him. Killed Roy!"

"They may have said that, but they don’t
believe it."

"Well, then, why, uh, should I answer any more
of your questions?"

“
Because I know about you and Teri Angel."

He was about to say something, but the sound of her
name froze his mouth around a syllable like a stop-action photograph.

"Your voice, Mr. Stansfield. Your voice is on
her telephone tape machine."

"But, it’s been over . . . uh, that is—"

"I haven’t told the police."

"You haven’t?"

"No. And I hope I won’t have to."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t,
uh, understand. I’m sorry."

"One step at a time. Who was your divorce
lawyer?"

He tried to focus. "Felicia. Felicia Arnold."

"And through her you met Teri."

"That’s correct. My wife and I hadn’t . . .
uh, for a long time, I was . . . uh, unable."

"And Felicia suggested you see Teri."

"Yes. I didn’t know at the time . . . I, uh,
know this must sound awfully naive of me, but . . . I, uh, actually
thought she was just a sort of . . ."

"Therapist?"

"Yes. I mean, you could tell just hearing her,
uh, speak a few sentences that she wasn’t educated very formally,
but she had a way of listening, of bringing out, uh, things that
troubled me. I even tried to pay her the first time by check. And I
haven’t, uh, hadn’t seen her in over a year."

"There’s one thing I haven’t been able to
figure out, Mr. Stansfield. How did Marsh meet Teri?"

"She called here once, to cancel an, uh,
appointment I’d made with her, and I was at the post office, so Roy
took the call and, uh, asked me who ‘Teri’ was, so I finally told
him after he already guessed."

"He threaten to expose you and her if you didn’t
set something up for him?"

"Yes. Uh, no, not exactly. I think I, uh, just
let him talk to her the next time, over the telephone when she, uh,
called here."

And the cops, looking at Teri’s or the office phone
bills, would just assume it was Teri or Marsh calling the other all
along. "Go on."

"Go on? Well, uh, there’s not that much more
to say."

"I’m afraid there is. What about the drugs?"

"I called, uh, is it Detective Guinness?"

"Yes."

"I called him when those two, uh, Negroes came
to see me."

"J.J. and Terdell."

"I don’t know their, uh, names, but I was
terrified of them. They came to see me and asked where the, uh . . ."

" ‘Material’?"

"Yes, where the ‘material’ was. I, uh, they
were quite polite, really, but here, in Swampscott . . . uh, anyway,
I told them I didn’t have any idea what they were, uh, talking
about, and, uh, they left. I immediately called our department here,
and, uh, they said to call Boston and speak with Detective Guinness."

"And you told Guinness about it? J.J , and
Terdell, I mean."

“
Yes."

"I want a look at the files on your insureds."

"I, uh."

"All the ones that Roy-boy brought into the
firm."

“
That’s not—"

“
Which may save me having to tell the police about
you and Teri, and them verifying it with—"

"All right, Mr. Cuddy. All right. I, uh, scare
quite easily enough. You can stop there."

The look on his face made me sorry I’d played so
cute toward the end. He turned away from me and toward the keyboard,
tapping, pausing, and tapping again. "Can you scroll?"

I stood and moved behind him. "Why don’t you
do it. I don’t want to mess anything up, and I’m sure you’d be
faster than I would."

He straightened and steadied a little bit at my
compliment. "Here come the A’s."

Over his shoulder, I
watched the screen for twenty minutes. A lot of people buying a lot
of arcane coverages. A few names you’d recognize from the
newspaper, mainly the sports, business, and government sections. Both
my lawyers were telling the truth. Felicia was a big customer, Chris
didn’t appear at all.

* * *

She unfolded sinuously from her desk chair. Someone
once told me that grace is the movement of weight in balance. It
suited her perfectly.

She said, "I wondered if our last discussion
would have put you off?"

I closed the door behind me and took her outstretched
hand, getting close enough to notice she was wearing a little more
perfume than usual. Not crass or cloying, just a faint enhancement.
When the fish doesn’t bite, sweeten the bait.

I let go of her hand a trifle sooner than she would
have and dropped into the client chair without answering her
question. She stayed standing and looked down at me.

"You know, you really are an intriguing man."

"Thanks."

"No, truly. I’ve seen more than most, and you
really are here because of what you’re working on, not because you
want some action. This Marsh matter is the cause of, not the excuse
for, your continuing interest in me."

"That’s right."

She poured herself back into the chair. "I find
that exciting, you know? Not being the central figure for a change."

"I have a few--"

"Let’s go to bed, you and I."

I stopped, she arched an eyebrow and smiled. "I’d
regret it," I said.

"That depends on whether you say yes or no."

I didn’t respond; she went on. "You see, if
you say yes, the earliest you can regret it is tomorrow morning."

"You’re probably overestimating me."

“
Whereas, if you say no, you’ll begin regretting
it immediately."

“
Sounds like I get depressed either way."

The eyebrow came down, the smile slid into a
disgusted frown, and she said, "I’m not sure I will have time
to see you today after all."

"What if it’s talk to me or talk to the cops?"

She laughed, regaining ground. "Please, don’t
threaten me about the killings. I’m a lawyer, remember? We invented
threats."

"Actually, I wasn’t thinking so much about the
killings as about the hookers and the drugs."

She finished the laugh, but smoothly, as if it hadn’t
died in her throat. She leaned back with a "Boy, I’ve got you
now" look. The best trial lawyer from my days at Empire used to
say that was the look he’d put on when the opposition had just
harpooned him in front of the jury.

"The hookers, you say?"

“
Yeah, like Teri Angel in Boston."

"The poor girl killed with Marsh?"

"That’s her."

"Are you suggesting I knew her?"

"Uh, yes, I’m afraid, uh, I am."

Felicia’s face indicated she didn’t like my
imitation. Not even a little.

I said, "Marsh met Teri through Stansfield, and
Stansfield met Teri through you."