“You want them to know I’m a cop?”
“I think that’s the only way we’ll get inside.”
“Backup?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Vice?”
“Not exactly.”
“Snatch?”
“Close.”
“When?”
“Twelve thirty.”
“Okay,” Charley said, and hung up.
When I got back to the car, I resolved to end it quickly, to get Gus Quilk back, and then be done with it, with no regrets. The only responsibility that mattered anymore was to myself. Or so I made myself believe.
Traffic was still heavy. Teresa Blair said nothing, even though I glanced at her from time to time, trying to lead her thoughts. The lights from the opposing cars swabbed her cheeks like yellow tissues. It was a quarter to twelve when I pulled into the little parking area in front of the Jack Tar and hid my car behind the red double-decker bus the hotel used for promotional jaunts.
“I can’t go inside,” I said to her. “Not yet. You go in and sit in the lobby where you can see the elevators. In a few minutes an attractive Oriental girl should come in. She’ll probably be wearing a short fur jacket. She has a curved scar just to the left of the corner of her eye. Follow her into the elevator and see what room she goes in, then come back here. I’ll take it from there. She may be alert for trouble, so play it cool.”
“How do you know all this?” Teresa Blair asked.
I fingered the book of matches embossed with the name of the hotel that Ms. Wong had given me at the Federal Building earlier in the day. “I just do,” I said.
“Is Gus in that room?”
“Maybe. If he is, I’ll get him out. Don’t try anything yourself. Remember what happened to Grinder.”
She nodded and got out of the car and started to walk away, then turned back and tapped on the window. I rolled it down. “What you’re thinking about me,” she said. “It’s probably true.”
“I know.”
“Then you aren’t doing this for me.”
“No. For Gus. And me.”
“Good,” she said, and walked away again.
I didn’t intend to but I fell asleep. When she came back, she had to shake me to wake me up. “Did she show?” I asked thickly.
“Room nine-fourteen.”
“She suspect you were following her?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What do we do now?”
“Wait.”
She opened the door and got out of the car again. “Don’t try anything stupid,” I said.
She smiled and walked to the red bus and climbed inside it. A few seconds later I saw the faint glow of a cigarette high atop the English bus, in the middle of the second deck. I got out of my car and climbed inside the deserted vehicle and trotted up the steps and sat on the seat across from her. “Are you sure Gus is in there?” she asked me.
“Reasonably.”
“Are the men who have him the same ones who killed the policeman in El Gordo?”
“Yes. But they didn’t plan it that way. Grinder must have forced their hand. The men are Justice Department lawyers. Feds. Part of the Organized Crime Strike Force.”
I couldn’t see her face but I guessed it was amazed. “And they took Gus?”
“Right.”
“For God’s sake, why?”
“Because they don’t want Tony Fluto to be tried for the murder of Phillip Vincent. The same reason they tried to keep me from finding you.”
“But why don’t they want Tony to be tried? I’d think they’d want just the opposite.”
“Because Phillip Vincent, or Johnny McCall, was a witness against your husband Frankie in Las Vegas. Because after he testified, he disappeared. With the help of the government. They call it the Witness Security Program now. Key witnesses against organized crime figures are given new identities and new jobs and all the rest in exchange for their testimony.”
“I’ve heard about that. But what does it have to do with Gus?”
“Tolson was trying Fluto for murder, because he wanted him out of El Gordo for good. To prove his case, he was going to have to prove exactly who Vincent was, in order to establish premeditation on Tony’s part. When it came out that Tony had penetrated the feds’ security system and found out where Vincent was, and then killed him, the Witness Security Program wouldn’t have been worth a damn. Word would get around fast. The next time the feds promised a witness a new ID, the witness would laugh in their face and refuse to testify. These federal guys are real gung ho. Tolson’s case was expendable. It was screwing up the big picture.”
She didn’t say anything for a while. I made myself think of things other than her. “Will there be shooting?” she asked softly.
“I don’t think so. They aren’t killers. They just underestimated Grinder’s pride. I’m sure they only intend to keep Gus until the case against Fluto is dismissed. Which is going to happen tomorrow morning. I think I can cut a deal. If I can get through the door.”
“Maybe we should wait.”
“No. I want it over with. Tonight.”
“How are you going to get in the room?”
“With him.”
I pointed to the lot below and to the gray Ford that had just pulled in it. Charley Sleet got his bulk out of the car and walked to my Buick and looked inside. When he saw it was empty he just leaned back against the door and waited. If necessary he would have waited for a day. I went down to see him, and Teresa Blair came after me.
“Charley.”
“Marsh.”
We shook hands. Mine fit like a pebble inside his. “How’s crime?” I asked him.
“Way up.”
“How’s punishment?”
“Way down.”
Teresa Blair coughed with nervous impatience. I introduced her to Charley. She asked us both to be careful. I told her we would. Then I turned to Charley. “They’re in room nine-fourteen. The boy is her nephew. The men, if they’re there, are feds. Justice Department. Lucas and Armbruster. Know them?”
Charley laughed. “As it happens, yes. Nice of you to tell me this earlier.”
I ignored his complaint. “Do they know you?”
“By name maybe. They know you?”
I nodded. “I think the only way to do it is knock and tell them we’re cops and get inside. I’m pretty sure they’ll want to know the situation before they make any kind of move against us. If I can get in there I think I can cut a deal that will keep things calm. Okay by you?”
“Okay.”
“They’re pretty big wheels, Charley. They could bring some heat down on you.”
“No they couldn’t,” Charley said.
I nodded and told Teresa Blair to stay where she was and got my gun out of the glove compartment and followed Charley Sleet into the hotel, more secure behind him than behind anyone I knew.
Business was still brisk enough with revelers from out of town that no one paid any attention as we strolled through the lobby. We had the elevator to ourselves and the corridor outside room 914 as well. “Got any suggestions if it starts to foul up?” Charley asked as we got to the room.
“Just don’t shoot the kid.”
“I was thinking of something more positive.”
“Just don’t shoot me.”
“As usual.”
“As usual,” I repeated.
Charley laughed and knocked on the door. There was a long pause, almost a minute. Charley looked at me; I looked at him. Then someone inside grunted. “Yeah?”
“Police,” Charley said. “Open up.”
“Why?”
“Routine check.”
“Check for what?”
“Suspected PC two-eighty-eight—lewd and lascivious acts with a child under fourteen; suspected PC two-eighty-eight-a—oral copulation with a person under eighteen. Open up.” Charley sounded like Jehovah.
The buzz of an epithet edged around the door. A fe
w seconds later it opened part way. The eye in the crack looked directly at Charley’s barrel chest. I was far enough to the side that it couldn’t see me. Charley flashed his shield. “What’s the problem, officer?” It was Lucas, sounding half-asleep.
“A young male was seen entering the room,” Charley said, “in the presence of an older man believed not to be his father. Gives me probable cause to inspect the premises.”
“For Christ’s sake,” Lucas swore. “I guess you better come in. You’re going to feel like an ass in about three seconds, officer.”
Lucas opened the door and Charley went through it and, just before it shut, so did I. “Tanner,” Lucas said when he turned and saw me.
“Reginald.”
“What’s going on? Who’s this?” He gestured toward Charley.
“Sergeant Charles Sleet,” I said. “SFPD. Know him?”
“I think I’ve heard the name. Do you know what the hell you’re doing, Tanner?”
“I think so.”
“Does this man know what you’re doing? Does he know who I am?”
“He does.” I looked at Charley. “Maybe you better check the next room,” I told him.
Charley disappeared through the door into the sleeping room of the suite. I looked around the sitting room. A couch, two chairs, a table, and a television. The TV was tuned to a black and white movie. Virginia Mayo was on the screen. An open bottle of Scotch was on the table. The elastic end of a black brassiere was sticking out from under the couch. Charley returned a minute later. “A boy, asleep or playing like it. A girl, scared and half-undressed. Looks real incriminating.” Charley was enjoying himself and so was I.
I looked back at Lucas. As usual he didn’t meet my eyes. “Sergeant Sleet here doesn’t know about El Gordo, or the boy, or any of the rest of it,” I said. “Now, I can fill him in, or we can just be nice and excuse him right now. Which will it be?”
Lucas frowned. “What is it you want, Tanner?”
“I want to leave here in about five minutes. With the Quilk boy. I want to get him home.”
“And after that?”
“Nothing. I’m out of it.”
“What about Tolson and his murder case?”
“Tolson’s going to dismiss first thing in the morning. Then he’s going to resign his office.”
“Straight?”
“Straight.”
Lucas paced the length of the little sitting room, thinking it over. “Okay. The cop can go,” he said at last.
“Thanks, Charley,” I said.
“Any time.” Charley left and the room seemed to double in size.
Lucas went over to the bedroom door and went through it. I could hear him whispering something to the girl and then he came back and sat on a chair and gestured for me to do the same. “It wasn’t supposed to go down the way it did, you know,” he said.
“Grinder wasn’t a man who could be taken without a fight.”
“We discovered that only too late.”
“Is the boy all right?”
“Physically. Mentally he’s as antisocial as I’ve ever seen. He shouldn’t be on the streets.”
“Maybe not, but that’s not for you or me to decide. His aunt’s downstairs. She’ll take him home. She’s not a fool and she’s very concerned about him. If he can be salvaged, she’ll see that it’s done.”
“He’ll be in jail in a year,” Lucas muttered.
“Maybe. Is he coming out?”
“Arlene’s getting him up.”
“I don’t want to hear you’ve messed with the kid after tonight, Lucas,” I said. “I’m going to check. If I learn you’ve picked him up again, I’ll go public with what I know. Otherwise, I’ll keep quiet. I guess you’ll just have to trust Gus to keep quiet on his end.”
“Oh, I think we’ve taken care of Gus. He won’t compromise the operation.”
“Why not?”
“We made him a deal.”
“What deal?” I asked.
“We found out what Gus is most afraid of in the world, and then we told him how we could arrange for just exactly that to happen to him.”
“You must have read Koestler,” I said. “So what’s Gus afraid of?”
The bedroom door opened before Lucas could answer and Miss Wong came into the room. She bowed slightly to me then looked at Lucas. Her attire and her composure were awry. “He’ll be out in a minute,” she said hesitantly. Her nipples poked the threads of her blouse. Her eyes searched the room and found what she was looking for.
“You can go home, Arlene,” Lucas told her. “The boy’s going with Tanner.”
Arlene grabbed her rabbit fur and her brassiere and left. I pointed to the bottle of Scotch on the table and Lucas nodded so I poured some into a glass and drank it. Lucas went into the sleeping room. I poured another Scotch. A minute later Lucas came back, dragging Gus Quilk behind him.
The boy was dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt. A round tin of chewing tobacco was rolled into his right sleeve. His belt was a chrome-linked chain. He looked at me above a surly lip. “Hey. You’re the prick that stiffed me for thirty bucks. I ain’t going nowhere with you.”
He looked at Lucas. Lucas looked at me and smiled for the first time ever. “Enjoy yourself,” he said.
I sighed and reached in my pocket and pulled out my gun and laid it on my thigh, then finished off the Scotch. “I’m tired of you, Gus. Now put on your jacket and come along. Your Aunt Teresa is down in my car. You’ll be going with her, not me.”
“One thing, Tanner,” Lucas said.
“What?”
“You can’t take the boy back to El Gordo for two more days. Or at least until the case against Fluto’s dismissed.”
“Okay,” I said.
Lucas turned his back on Gus and headed into the bedroom. Before he got there, he stopped and looked back at me. “There’s no way we can take a fall for what happened to Grinder,” he said. “No way at all. There’s a new team in Washington. They won’t moan and groan about petty details.”
“I suppose not,” I said.
Lucas left the room.
“Move,” I said to Gus. He didn’t have any leverage and he was wise enough to know it.
When we got to the car Teresa Blair got out and hugged the boy and asked if he was all right.
“No sweat,” he said. “Them guys didn’t dare lay a hand on me.”
I took a deep breath and guided the two of them into my Buick and drove off. “I’m going to take you to my place,” I said. “You have to stay there for two days. Then you can take Gus home.”
“Why the two days?” Teresa Blair asked.
“That’s the deal.”
“How many people were killed in this fucking wreck?” Gus said.
No one said anything else the rest of the way. The city that could at times seem so threatening seemed suddenly to be a pat on my back, a shake of the hand, a refuge. I double-parked outside my apartment and everyone got out of the car. I pulled out my house keys and handed them to Teresa Blair. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked.
“No.”
“Where will you be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will I see you again?”
“I don’t think so. If you need a ride back to El Gordo on Friday, call my office. My secretary’s name is Peggy. She’ll take you down. Everything in the apartment works, and there’s nothing so complicated you can’t figure it out. There’s a grocery store two blocks down. Have a nice time. The girl across the street sells drugs.”
“You didn’t have to say that,” Teresa Blair said.
“Yes, I did.”
She nodded as though she understood. “Maybe this is for the best,” she went on. “I need to have a talk with Gus. I need to tell him things.”
“Someone sure as hell does.”
“That someone should be his mother.”
“Yeah. Let’s leave it to her, why don’t we.”
“We have.”
“What
?”
“Gus is my son. Frankie was his father. I was afraid to have him with me before, for fear they’d try to get to Tony through him. But it was a terrible mistake. I want Gus with me now. If I get out of all this I want to try and save him.”
“Hey,” Gus yelled suddenly. “I’m freezing my balls off over here. Move your ass, huh?”
“Good luck,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said. “You, too.” I touched her cheek then turned away.
I drove a long time before I stopped. El Gordo was always at my back.
Turn the page to continue reading from the John Marshall Tanner Mysteries
One
The plane descended over the heroic quilt of soil, bounced twice on the black and shiny tarmac, and taxied to the terminal unimpeded by other traffic. Except for a woman herding three children and two shopping bags down the aisle behind me, I was the last passenger to leave the plane.
The steep steel stairs creaked beneath my feet. The handrail was slick and damp from the thunderstorm that had crossed the airfield ahead of the plane and still sparked and rumbled in the eastern sky. I danced around the puddles that glowed in the ghostly twilight like the frozen eyes of madmen and pushed my way into the terminal behind a man wearing a houndstooth shirt and glen plaid slacks, glad to escape the heavy air, glad to be meeting someone I liked, glad, I decided finally, to be almost home.
She was waiting at the gate, my sister, on time as always, slim and sensibly attired as always, smiling as almost always. I hadn’t been home for close to three decades and I hadn’t seen Gail for three years, since she and her family had visited San Francisco for a week and me for a day three summers before. She looked the same now as she had then: tired. Gail had been weary since birth, the consequence of being too eager to please and to do right, too worried that something untoward might happen that she should have magically prevented, too good.
I liked Gail more than I liked my brothers. She was the next youngest to me, and was the only one I had really known growing up. She was the only Tanner I still communicated with outside the month of December and the only one I felt any debt to beyond the clinging debt that common blood begets, so when she had asked me to come back home to help resolve a family dispute I switched some appointments and begged off a new case from the biggest law firm in town and caught a United flight out of San Francisco with a stop in Omaha along the way.
State’s Evidence Page 28
