by Stuart Woods
“Severe clear,” she repeated. “I like it.” She squeezed his hand. “I feel it.”
HERBIE FISHER was clearing his desk at the end of the day when Cookie came in with a package.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“A packet of invitations came for the grand opening of High Cotton Ideas’ new building, and a housewarming for Mark Hayes’s new apartment. It’s a week from Friday. There was a note suggesting that you invite some of your clients.”
“What a good idea,” Herbie said. “Mark knows most of my clients, anyway. Invite them all. And Bill Eggers, Stone Barrington, and Dino Bacchetti. And invite RoseAnn.”
“Dink Brennan, too?”
“Yes. Would you like a drink?” Herbie asked.
“Sure.”
“Pour us both one and sit.”
Cookie poured the drinks and took a chair. “Cheers.” She raised her glass.
“Cheers.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, but I need to talk to you about something.”
“All right.”
“I know you find Dink Brennan attractive. He’s young, handsome, charming, and rich.”
“What a nice combination!” Cookie said, smiling.
“Normally, yes. The trouble is, I don’t think there’s anything normal about Dink.”
“You mean, because he was at the funny farm?”
“No, I mean because he needed to be at the funny farm for a lot longer, and he didn’t get the treatment he needed. He short-circuited the process.”
“You think Dink is crazy?”
“I think, from what the director at the farm told me about him, that he might be a psychopath. At the very least, he’s a sociopath. You know the difference?”
“A psychopath is crazy,” Cookie said. “A sociopath has no conscience.”
“Either one of them can appear to be a perfectly normal person,” Herbie said. “Handsome, charming, and rich.”
“Which do you think Dink is?”
“I think that he’s both. The psychiatrist thought Dink had violent tendencies.”
Cookie gave a little shudder. “Eeww,” she said.
“My thought exactly. I don’t buy his reformed act, and I suspect his father doesn’t, either. I think it would be a good idea if you treat him politely, but not warmly, and that you avoid seeing him outside this office.”
“Herb,” she said, tossing off her drink, “you talked me into it.”
51
Stone and Dino were having dinner at P.J. Clarke’s.
“Good job on the Abney guy,” Stone said.
“You can thank Viv DeCarlo for that one,” Dino said. “I nearly got her killed doing it.” He told Stone about Viv’s struggle with Abney in the restaurant. “She would have died in that dumpster if she hadn’t been able to use the last of her strength to set off an alarm in her wristwatch.”
“How is she now?”
“I saw her this afternoon at the hospital. She’s walking and talking. She’ll be discharged tomorrow.”
“Is she going to be scarred?”
“A cosmetic surgeon closed her incision, and they tell me it won’t show after it’s healed.”
“That’s good.” Stone looked up and saw Herbie Fisher come into the dining room and waved him over.
Herbie took a chair. “How are you guys?”
“Never better,” Dino said.
“Same here,” Stone echoed. “Got your invitation for the High Cotton event. I’ll be there with my girl.”
“Me too,” Dino said.
“Why don’t you invite Viv?” Stone said. “It’s the least you can do.”
Dino squirmed a little. “I don’t know.”
“There won’t be anyone from the department there,” Stone pointed out.
Dino shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“What have you been up to, Herb?” Stone asked.
“I’ve got a new client I’m nervous about,” Herbie said.
“Who’s that, and why are you nervous?”
“Dink Brennan.”
Dino put down his wineglass. “I thought we put him away for at least a year.”
“He got himself out and convinced his father that he’s a reformed character,” Herbie said. “He didn’t convince me.”
“Then why is he your new client?”
“Because of his father. If there’s any chance that the kid has turned a new leaf, I want to help him, for Marshall.”
“How screwed up is he?” Dino asked.
“How about psychopathic sociopath with violent tendencies? Or diseases to that effect.”
“Is that your diagnosis?”
“It’s what his shrink thinks.”
“Herb,” Stone said, “he’s already tried to ruin you once. Why don’t you just stay away from him? Marshall would understand your wanting to do that.”
“I guess he would,” Herbie said.
“Where are those two friends of his, Parker and Carson?” Dino asked.
“At a place called The Refuge, up in Westchester. Dink doesn’t know where they are.”
“Is he back in New Haven?” Stone asked.
“No, his father gave him the keys to a company apartment on the East Side. He says he’s going back to Yale in the fall, then to law school after graduation.”
“Well, he needs his father’s goodwill to live, doesn’t he?”
“Not really. A trust his mother left him became available to him last week, when he turned twenty-one. He’s got the money to do whatever he wants without Marshall’s help.”
Dino shook his head. “If there’s anything I hate worse than a violent psycho, it’s a violent psycho with money.”
“I know how you feel,” Herbie said. “I think the kid is a walking time bomb.”
“How big is he?” Dino asked.
Herbie shrugged. “I don’t know, six-three, two-twenty, maybe.”
“And you’re what? Five-seven, a hundred and sixty?”
“Good guess.”
“Do you own a firearm?” Stone asked.
“No, but I got a carry permit from the city in today’s mail, courtesy of Strategic Defense. And a very nice certificate that qualifies me to take a bullet for somebody else.”
“There’s a gun shop downtown, near headquarters,” Dino said. “All the cops shop there. Now that you’ve got your permit, why don’t you amble down there tomorrow and pick out something for yourself?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Nine millimeter, at least-something that won’t make a bulge under that beautiful suit.”
“That’s not the worst idea I ever heard,” Herbie said.
“You’re the second person this week to say that to me,” Dino replied. “I must give good advice.”
“Not always,” Stone said, “but this time, you’re right.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“All right, I’ll do that,” Herbie said.
“Just remember,” Stone said, “a gun is of no use to you unless you can put your hand on it in a hurry. Get yourself a nice holster, too. A dresser drawer isn’t close enough.”
“That’s good advice.”
“Yeah,” Dino said, “even Stone gives good advice once in a great while. When it agrees with mine.”
“Listen, fellas,” Herbie said, “if anything bad happens to me, it won’t be an accident. Please remember that.”
Stone and Dino exchanged glances.
“Sure, kid,” Dino said, “we’ll mention it at your funeral.”
52
Shelley Bach leafed through the New York Post. She was bored, horny, and getting annoyed about it. Then a name leapt out at her:
DETECTIVES BACCHETTI amp; MAHON WITNESS MURDERER’S SUICIDE
Shelley read the account of Abney’s demise avidly. She had tried to put Dino out of her mind, but now he was back, and in a good way. She let her mind roam back to their time in the suite at the Hay-Adams Hotel in Washington, then
she reached for her vibrator. Batteries dead. She threw it across the room, got out of bed, and ran a hot tub. She needed to relax.
Later, fresh, with her hair done, she surveyed her new image in the mirror once again. Such a difference! Dino wouldn’t know her from Eve, but he would like her, she was sure of that. She had an idea but dismissed it-too dangerous-then she thought again. She found her prepaid cell phone and called the 19th Precinct. “Lieutenant Bacchetti,” she said to the sergeant who answered.
“Bacchetti.”
“Hi, Dino,” she said in a low voice.
There was a silence, then, “Shelley?”
“I saw the write-up in the Post,” she said. “Good work.”
“Can you hang on just a moment, please?” He put her on hold.
Damn, she thought. He ’ s tracing the call. She glanced at the second hand on her wristwatch. She’d give him sixty seconds of her time.
“I’m back,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Oh, I’m at an available distance,” she said. “Why don’t we meet this evening for a drink?”
“Okay,” Dino replied. “Where and when?”
“How about Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle, ten o’clock? That close enough to your bedtime?”
“See you there,” Dino said.
She hung up and made another call, this one to an escort service.
Dino went to his office door and shouted, “Any luck?”
Rosie stood up in her cubicle. “Nope, not long enough.”
“Shit! Come in here, Rosie.” He went back to his desk.
Rosie came in and sat down. “What’s up, boss? Who was on the call?”
“When’s Viv getting out?”
“Tomorrow, if she doesn’t have a temperature. They held her an extra day because of that.”
Dino felt the wrestling match between his duty and his dick. “It would be nice to have this cleared up by then,” he said.
“Have what cleared up? The phone call? Who was it from?”
“You ever heard of an FBI assistant director named Shelley Bach?”
“Heard of her? Are you kidding? She was big news last year. Was that Bach on the phone?”
Dino nodded. “I knew her when Stone and I were on that D.C. thing.”
“I’m not going to ask what you mean by ‘knew,’ even though I want to know.”
“I’ve got a shot at busting her tonight,” Dino said.
“That would be quite a bust,” Rosie said.
“She’s asked me to meet her for a drink at the Carlyle.”
“I expect the Bureau would like to know about that,” Rosie pointed out.
Dino shook his head. “They’re so desperate to nail her they’d flood the area with agents. She’d spot the setup from a mile away. You think she doesn’t know how they think?”
“She doesn’t know how I think,” Rosie said.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Who around here doesn’t look like a cop?” Dino asked.
“Viv,” Rosie replied.
“Viv isn’t up to this yet.”
“She’d hate to miss it.”
“We’ll have to live with that.” He thought about it. “Shelley wouldn’t be expecting two women, though.”
“Who would?”
“Come with me,” Dino said, checking his watch. “It’s nearly nine o’clock.”
Viv was sitting up in the hospital bed, flipping impatiently through a magazine when Dino and Rosie walked in.
“Have you two come to liberate me?” she asked.
Dino and Rosie pulled up chairs. “How are you feeling?” he asked, then he held up a hand. “No, how are you really feeling?”
“I was ready to go back to work the day before yesterday,” Viv replied. “What’s going on?”
“I’m reluctant to let you do this,” Dino said.
Viv threw the magazine at him. “I don’t care what it is,” she said, “just get me out of here.”
Dino looked at Rosie and nodded. Rosie set a shopping bag on the bed. “I picked up some of your stuff.”
“Get dressed,” Dino said. “I’ll go find somebody to sign off on this.” He got up and left.
“What’s up?” Viv asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and reaching for the shopping bag.
“You’re going to like it,” Rosie said, grinning.
53
Shelley heard the doorbell and went to answer it. She opened the door and silently surveyed the man who stood there, to see if her wishes had been followed. He was in his mid-thirties, well over six feet, slim, wearing an expensive suit, expensive shoes, and an expensive haircut. “You’ll do,” she said. “Come in for a minute.”
She stood back and let him enter. “I’m Brenda,” she said.
He smiled, revealing expensive dental work. “I’m Steve.”
“Hello, Steve,” she said, offering her hand. “I think you’re going to work out just fine.”
“Thank you,” Steve replied. “And speaking of work…”
“Of course,” she said. She went to her handbag and retrieved the money, already counted out and in a hotel envelope. “Here you are.”
“You’ll get your money’s worth,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
“Right now, I want a drink and some dinner,” she said. “I’ve booked a table in Bemelmans Bar, downstairs. It’s in a corner with a good view of the bar and the entertainment. I’ll take the gunfighter’s seat, facing the room. Got it?”
“Whatever you want,” Steve said.
“I may decide to leave suddenly. If I do, your first job is to get out of my way. Your second job is to follow close behind me. Your third job is to get in the way of anybody who follows me.”
“Whatever you want.”
“A jealous ex-husband could show up. Can you handle that?”
“I can handle whatever you want.”
She looked at her watch. “Let’s go.”
Dino’s driver stopped on Seventy-fifth Street, half a block short of Madison Avenue, as instructed.
“Okay, listen up,” Dino said from the front passenger seat.
“We’re listening,” Viv said from the backseat.
“This is not going to be as easy as it sounds,” he said.
“It doesn’t sound easy,” Rosie replied.
“It’s even harder than that. Shelley Bach is a very, very smart woman.”
“She doesn’t have a monopoly,” Viv said.
“You start thinking like that, and she’ll have you for dinner.”
“All right, all right.”
“Shelley will be armed.”
“How do you know that?” Rosie asked.
“She was an FBI agent for twenty-odd years. She got used to packing, and she likes it.”
“Does she take it off in bed?” Viv asked.
“Goddammit, will you two take this seriously?”
“We’re listening, boss,” Viv said contritely.
“She will suspect that I’m going to try to take her, and she will act accordingly. She will suspect that I will have help, and she’ll act accordingly.” Dino handed them the photograph he had printed from the FBI website. “This is what she looks like, sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?”
“Last time I saw her, she was a flaming redhead. She will have done what she can to alter her appearance. What she can’t alter is that she’s tall-taller than I am, in heels.”
Rosie put her hand over her mouth, then took it away. “So we’re looking for a tall woman who isn’t a blonde or a redhead?”
“That’s a start. She dresses well, and I don’t think that will change. I want you two to go in first and sit at the bar. If you order booze, don’t drink it. Order some food, a salad or something. It will give you something to do. I don’t want you getting bored.”
“What do we do if we spot her?”
“You’re not going to spot her. I don’t even
want you looking around the room after you get there. Got that?”
“Got it, boss,” Viv said.
“Start a conversation with each other-talk about something that absorbs your attention.”
“Who’s going to look for Shelley?”
“I am, dummy. I’m the only one who’s got a shot at recognizing her. If I see her, I’ll make a noise, or do something to attract your attention. Again, don’t look around the room. When I attract your attention, look at me. I’ll make a move, then you back me up. There may be a struggle, even a fight, but there will be no shots fired. You both got that?”
“Yes, boss,” Rosie said.
“I don’t want to be reading in tomorrow’s Post that there was a shoot-out at the Carlyle Hotel, you understand?”
“Yes, boss,” Viv said.
“I may want to go back to the Carlyle someday, and you may, too. We don’t want to get eighty-sixed from the joint.”
“Yes, boss,” Rosie said.
“You’re taking turns saying that,” Dino said.
“Yes, boss,” Viv said.
“It’s like watching Ping-Pong.”
“Yes, boss,” Rosie said.
“Stop that!”
“Yes, boss,” they said in unison.
“All right, go in there and get established. I’ll be in in a few minutes. Don’t notice me when I arrive.”
“Yes, boss,” they said in unison.
The two detectives got out of the car and started toward the hotel.
SHELLEY STOPPED at the door and checked out the room. Dino wasn’t there yet, as she had suspected, and nobody looked like the FBI or a cop. There were two women at the bar, but they were looking at each other, not the room. Probably lesbians, she thought. The headwaiter seated them at the corner table she had booked, and Steve dutifully pulled out the table and gave her the gunfighter’s seat.
DINO CHECKED his watch for the fifth time. He didn’t like letting them go in first, but it was for the best. They’d already be there when Shelley arrived, and maybe that would make her less nervous. On the other hand, maybe it would make her more nervous, who knew? All he could do was the best he could do.
Ten o’clock. “Take me around to the Madison Avenue entrance,” he said to his driver.
