Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series)

by Smith, Christopher

  “I did call him,” George said. “I talked to him personally. I hired one of his men to protect Leana. How do you explain that?”

  “Are you sure you spoke with him?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. He identified himself.”

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you. As far as our intelligence is concerned, Sean Scott is as good as they come.”

  “What reasons would he have to lie to me? And to her?”

  “I discussed that with my team. We wondered what his motive could be. And then I thought about something you said to me when you first called for assistance. I asked you if any particular people came to mind when you thought of who might be behind this. You gave me eight names. Eight. Right off the top of your head as if it were nothing. That suggests that you have plenty of enemies, Mr. Redman. There are probably others that didn’t even occur to you when I put you on the spot like that. One of them likely is behind this. It’s no secret that your daughter now has security. What if one of them got to Scott and threatened him?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “If that happened, if Scott was somehow targeted, he may have had no choice but to lie, which means that the security around your daughter is compromised. That’s the real threat, assuming this is the case.”

  “How do we find out if it’s the case?”

  “I’ll speak to Scott. I’ll get him alone, and hopefully he will come clean with me. If he doesn’t, I’ll be able to read it on his face and I’ll know that he’s hiding something. If nothing is there, if he’s telling the truth, I also will know. I’m an expert at this.”

  “How soon can you do it?”

  “I’ll be at The Park tomorrow morning. I’ll wait outside for him. You told me that he picks up Leana each morning and brings her to the hotel. Correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then I’ll be there waiting for him.”

  “Call me once you’ve had that conversation. You have the number to my private cell. I’ll have it on me.”

  Now, George wanted a moment alone before he began what promised to be a trying day. Beyond Leana’s situation, his own hotel was opening tonight. He needed to stop by and check to make certain Pepper was on her game. If she wasn’t, he needed to get her and the hotel in line before the guests arrived. Some things couldn’t be left to chance. This was one of them.

  So was Leana.

  He stepped into the living room and turned on the television for the morning news. What he saw made him sink slowly into one of the chairs facing the television. The images made him put his juice down on the table next to him. He turned up the sound and listened in surprise.

  Antonio De Cicco, capo di capi of the New York syndicate, was being led out of an industrial-looking building by police. His hands were cuffed behind him. Dozens of other men were being pulled out of the building, their hands also in cuffs. It was evening. The camera closed in on De Cicco’s face, which was an expressionless mask.

  In the network’s typical conversational style, the broadcaster said something that stopped George cold.

  “The sting was organized after a conversation between the police and Anastassios Fondaras, the Greek shipping tycoon, who went to them after he managed to get his family out of the country. Fondaras claims that De Cicco and this organization have been threatening him and his family as part of a plot to murder Leana Redman. Redman, of course, has recently been under attack, with one incident leaving her new hotel defaced with slanderous language that called her out as a murderer, and another incident involving gunfire in which she nearly was left blind in one eye.

  “Redman is the daughter of billionaire George Redman, whose eldest daughter, Celina Redman, was murdered in a revenge plot three years ago by Louis Ryan. It was an event that ended with both George and Leana Redman being shot by Ryan, who later was gunned down by police.

  As for Fondaras, he claims that if he didn’t go forward with the plot, De Cicco promised to murder his family. It was only yesterday that he was able to pull off an undercover coup to get his family out of the country, which finally allowed him to risk coming forward. To further bolster Fondaras’ story, CNN has since confirmed that Fondaras’ daughter, Alexia Fondaras, recently was the victim of a gruesome attack that nearly cost her her life. Alexia is now with her family at an undisclosed location.”

  George watched the commentator raise her hands from the table, as if even she couldn’t believe what she was reporting. “Obviously, this is a big story, especially for the citizens of New York, where De Cicco is a notorious crime figure. Before we go to break, we’ll leave you with this. Leana Redman is married to Antonio De Cicco’s son, Mario De Cicco, whom CNN has learned is estranged from his family. Second, both Leana Redman and George Redman are opening competing hotels tonight with lavish parties. So, more proof that truth is stranger than fiction. We’ll have more after the break, including a retrospective of De Cicco’s long life of crime in New York, and how he managed to evade the police for over thirty years. Until, of course, last night.”

  When they cut to a commercial, George put the television on mute, stood, and pulled his cell out of his pants pocket. But he nearly dropped it because his hands were trembling with rage. He closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. He took a breath to collect himself.

  If they could get to Fondaras, they could get to Sean Scott.

  He looked for Leana’s number, found it, and called her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  When her cell rang, Leana’s first inclination was to ignore it. But despite what was playing out on the news and how much she needed to pay attention to it, she knew she had to answer because of tonight’s party. At this point, anything could happen at her hotel that would force her to cancel everything.

  “Don’t answer it,” Mario said. He was sitting in their living room, looking at the television as police led his father, brothers and other family members away. He was pale. She’d never seen him so disturbed.

  “I have to.”

  She went into the kitchen and reached for her cell on the kitchen island. She looked at the number, and felt a chill. With a sense of trepidation, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Leana?”

  Leana closed her eyes at the sound of her mother’s voice. How long had it been since she last heard it? Three years? she thought. She had yet to reconcile within herself that more than thirty years ago, her mother had murdered another woman out of spite. She had yet to visit her in prison. She had sent letters, but she had yet to talk to her by phone. The idea of what she’d done was too much. But now, the sound of her voice was an unexpected balm to her. The past seemed to fade away at the sound of it. She blinked away tears and said, “Yes. It’s me.”

  “Are you all right? I’ve seen the news.”

  “I’m fine. I guess. I don’t know, Mom.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing. It’s still so early. I expect that either the police or Anastassios will call shortly. We just found out twenty minutes ago.”

  “We? You mean you and Mario?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Are you safe with him?”

  “Of course I am. He has no part in this.”

  When she said that, she was aware of Mario looking over at her.

  “Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t called or visited.”

  “I’m also sorry, but for selfish reasons. I miss you, Leana, but I understand. Don’t even think about it.”

  She wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions that assailed her at that moment. They crashed into her like a wrecking ball slamming against her from all sides. She had a vision of the last time she saw her mother, who always was so elegant to her. She had to fight to keep from crying about the state her mother likely was in now. Despite what her mother had done, Leana realized now how much she had missed her.

  “Have you heard from Dad?” she asked.

  “I haven’t.”

  “Ever?”

  “No,
but it’s fine. I understand. I assume he’ll ask for a divorce and naturally I’ll grant him one. He’ll figure this out in his own time.”

  “Are you OK?”

  “I’m getting by. Don’t worry about me.”

  “How can’t I worry?”

  “Because you have a life to live. I ruined mine. Harold gave you that money to do great things with, which you are. I read the papers. I’ve been following you and your hotel. I want to see you soar because of all of it. Your father was so wrong about you. Everything was for Celina. Now it’s your turn.”

  Leana put a hand to her face and wiped her eyes.

  “But this call isn’t about me or your father. It’s about you. I’m concerned about you. How long will you wait before you call the police or Anastassios yourself?”

  “Not long. We’re still absorbing it. I need to get my head on straight before I talk to them about this. My mind needs to be clear.”

  “Are you going forward with your party?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “They’ve caught the bastard who’s been behind this. It’s over. I see no reason to cancel it. I can only hope that people will show.”

  “They’ll show,” Elizabeth said. “But you need to prepare yourself for why they’ll show. It’s changed. They’re going to want to have a look at you, Leana. And Mario. They’ll want to see how you’re holding up, particularly since you’re married to the man whose father did this to you. Right now, both of you are at the center of New York’s biggest story. If you go through with this, you’ll need to adopt a steel rod for a spine, because it’s going to be exhausting. This no longer is the celebration you were seeking. It’s become a circus, and you’re the draw. You need to be ready for that.”

  Only her mother could offer that kind of perspective, likely because during her years with George, she had dealt with her share of scandal, which had nothing to do with the reason she was in prison today.

  “My time is up,” Elizabeth said. “They want me off the phone. I need to go.”

  “I’m so grateful that you called, Mom. You don’t even know.”

  “Take care of yourself. And I meant what I said earlier, Leana. Use the money Harold gave you wisely. There is no reason why you can’t be as successful as Celina was, or as successful as your father is now, for that matter. Let nothing hold you back—not what’s happening to you now and not what might come in the future.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “I love you, Leana.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  The line went dead. Leana put the phone down on the island, and felt her throat grow thick with grief, loss, and a dozen other emotions she couldn’t define. The pressure was too much. She’d been put through too much. And her mother was right. Tonight, people would come not to celebrate her achievement, but to watch her and Mario. It was all so wrong. Why had Antonio called her a murderer on that tarp?

  The answer came to her in a rush.

  Lucia, she thought. He holds me responsible for her death. Of course. To him, I’m a murderer.

  She put her face in her hands, leaned into Mario when he quickly came up behind her and held her, and for too many reasons, she let herself go and allowed herself to cry.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  The morning passed in a blur.

  Her father called, Michael called, Zack called, Marty Spellman called to request an immediate meeting, Anastassios called, the police called to set up a meeting with her for the following morning to debrief, and then Anastassios came by to apologize and to explain everything. Once she understood the situation Mario’s father had put him in, Leana forgave him, especially when he played for her and Mario the brutal, threatening phone calls Antonio had left for him.

  “I’m sorry,” Mario said. “I wish you had come to me. We could have handled this.”

  “I don’t think we could have, Mario. I knew that if your father or one of his men found out, he would have killed you. Nothing was going to stop him from killing Leana, not even his son. I needed to figure it out on my own, while making sure Leana had protection, which Sean provided.” He turned to her. “There’s something you need to know. Your father did call Sean to hire one of his men. I was the one who asked him not to say anything about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because De Cicco ordered me not to. He controlled everything. He wanted no good to come to you, not even the fact that George was thinking of you and trying to help you. Sean finally convinced me that we could put an end to this. He said we could win this, and told me how. We collaborated on a plan while I figured out how to get my family onto one of my planes and safely out of the country.”

  “What was the plan?” Mario asked.

  Anastassios hesitated, but then he told him what Sean had been prepared to do.

  “They would have deserved it,” Mario said. “I wish you had gone through with it. I wish they were dead now. All of them.”

  “Mario,” Leana said.

  “It’s true. How dare they do this to you. How dare he put any of you through this. He’s dead to me. My family is dead to me. We could have taken him out, Anastassios.”

  “I’m not one for murder, Mario.”

  “Right now, I am.”

  “I understand that. But right now I feel lucky that I was able to get to Sean in time. Once I knew my family was safe, I went to the police, told them everything, and they responded immediately. You know the rest.”

  “Where is Sean now?”

  “At the hotel making sure everything is secure for tonight.” He shook his head. “Sean’s had a tough go of it. There was a misunderstanding last night. I told him that a detective would escort him away from the scene, but the detective didn’t show in time. Police were patrolling the area looking for more of Mario’s family who might have been guarding the compound from a distance. When Sean tried to leave the building with that weapon in his hand, they were there and they took him down. There was a moment when he thought he was going to be arrested. But when the detective who knew the situation did show, Sean’s weapon was taken from him, and he was released.”

  “I need to talk to him,” Leana said.

  “You do. And not for the reasons you think.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Your cousin, Pepper?”

  “What about her?”

  “You remember the photographs Sean had taken of her?”

  Leana felt a chill. She’d been waiting for information about them. “What about them?”

  “She walked into that building with a briefcase, and came out of it without one. Looked odd, didn’t it?”

  “Unless she just made a mistake and left it behind, which is possible. She told me she had a doctor’s appointment that morning.”

  “There are doctors who have offices in that building. She could be telling the truth, but Sean and I think there is another possibility we need to consider. It’s extreme. I don’t know your cousin and I don’t know whether she has it in her to go this far, but in that building are the offices of Gordon Elling.”

  “Who is Gordon Elling?” Mario asked. He looked at Leana. “And what’s this about? You haven’t mentioned any of this to me.”

  “Sean was looking into it,” she said. “I had no real information to share. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing to tell you.”

  “She’s right,” Anastassios said. “At this point, all of it is just supposition on our part. But to answer your question, in his public life, Elling is a successful businessman. He has his hand in just about everything. On the side, for those in the know—like Sean, whom Elling once approached to offer him a job—he’s also the person someone goes to if they want to hire an assassin. That’s where he makes his real money. A fortune, in fact.”

  “How could that little wart from Wharton, of all people, even know about someone like Elling?”

  “Pepper
has money,” Anastassios said. “In the right hands, money can help anyone find someone like Elling.”

  “But she has to have the right hands to put that money into. Look, I’m no fan of my cousin—I can’t stand the bitch—but I don’t see her hiring someone to murder me. What’s the point? I’ve left my father’s business. I have no intention of going back. She knows that.”

  “But does she believe it? Look, Leana, this is just something else I needed to share with you. Sean is looking into the situation. He’ll let us know if he learns anything.”

  “Between now and the party? There’s no time.”

  “Sean is faster than you think.”

  “Let me go and talk to him. I need to go to the hotel, anyway, to make sure we’re good to go for tonight.”

  “We’ll go in my car,” Anastassios said. “You’ll be safe there.”

  “Fine.” She grabbed her cell and the keys to their penthouse. “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Should we call for Sam?” Mario asked.

  “We’re just going to the car, and there’s no time, anyway.”

  “Be ready for the press,” Anastassios said. “They are about to mob both of you.”

  “Let them take our photographs. We’ve done nothing wrong. The city is on our side right now. I don’t plan on talking to the media, but I’m sure as hell not going to lower my head because of this. I might even offer them a smile and a wave. That’ll throw them off.”

  “Your wife always has had spunk,” Anastassios said to Mario as they left the penthouse.

  “It can be scary,” Mario said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  In their Tribeca apartment, Spocatti looked up from the black dress shoes he was shining when Carmen stepped through the door and moved into the kitchen. From his seat in the living room, he watched her walk toward him. The light from the windows behind him played across her face until she fully came into view. Then, the light illumined her.