Jesse plugged it in. Natalya stood and hovered over the machine for a moment. Then she pushed play and sat back down in her chair.
“We do all these things,” Natalya said. “And I do not even know your whole name.”
“Norman Anthony Salerno,” he said.
Jesse was watching Natalya. She was listening as if she’d never heard it before.
Natalya giggled on the tape.
“How come you have such big muscles, Norman Anthony Salerno?” There was a faint sound of ice cubes clicking in a glass. “I pump a lot of iron,” he said. “It’s useful in my line of work.”
“What do you do for work,” Natalya said.
“I fuck you,” he said, and laughed.
The ice cubes clicked again.
Natalya showed nothing as the tape ran. Occasionally she looked at Jesse, as if she wanted his approval.
“You don’t need big muscles for that,” Natalya said. “What do you do for money?”
“Man, you broads are all the same,” he said. “ ‘What do you do for money?’ I got plenty of money, don’t worry about that.”
“So, where you get plenty of money?”
The ice clinked.
“I’m the head of security for a very rich man,” he said.
“Is that dangerous?”
“Can be,” Normie said.
“You have a gun?”
“Sure,” he said. “Guy my size don’t usually need one, but now and then you need one, you know? To take care of business.”
“What is ‘take care of business’?”
Normie laughed.
“Man, you don’t know much, do you,” he said.
“No,” she said.
“If somebody’s a problem, and he has to be whacked . . . I take care of business.”
“ ‘Whacked’?” she said.
“For crissake, killed,” Normie said. “You understand killed?”
“You kill people?”
“I’ve killed a few,” Normie said. “Get me a drink.”
There was the sound of bedsprings and a faint sound of bottles and glasses and ice, then the bedspring sound again.
“Have you actually kill somebody?” Natalya said.
“Sure.”
“I don’t believe that,” Natalya said. “I believe you tough guy. But I don’t believe you kill someone.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I kill someone, two someones, right in town,” he said.
“In Paradise?”
“Absolutely,” Normie said. “You probably read about it in the papers.”
“The two men on Paradise Neck?”
“Bingo,” Normie said.
“I do not believe that,” Natalya said.
“Ognowski,” Normie said, “and Moynihan.”
“You really did?” she said.
“Bet your ass,” Normie said. “Course, you tell anybody and I’ll deny it.”
There was the sound of ice and glass and the faint sound of swallowing.
“And I’ll kill you.”
“I will not tell,” Natalya said.
“I’ll bet you won’t,” he said.
Again, the sound of drinking.
Then he said, “Let’s get back to business here.”
She giggled.
“You like how many times I can go?” he said.
“Of course,” she said.
“Pretty good, huh?” he said.
“Very good,” she said.
55
NATALYA LEANED forward and stopped the tape.
“It is embarrassing,” she said.
“I’ll need to hear it all,” Jesse said.
She nodded.
“When I am gone,” she said. “It is embarrassing to listen to it.”
“Yes,” Jesse said.
“Is he caught?” Natalya said.
“You have caught him,” Jesse said.
“Good, then I will not have to see him again.”
“You will probably have to testify,” Jesse said.
She nodded.
“He killed Petrov Ognowski,” she said. “My husband. Nicolas Ognowski’s son.”
Jesse nodded.
“He will not go to trial,” she said.
“One of you will kill him?” Jesse said.
“Yes.”
“Why did you bring this to me?” Jesse said.
“To be sure,” Natalya said. “If somehow he is not killed, you will know. My father-in-law says you are good cop. You would find a way to get him.”
“If he is killed,” Jesse said, “I’m going to have to come looking for you.”
“Of course,” Natalya said. “But you will not find us.”
“The thing is,” Jesse said, “Normie is a nobody. He would have no reason to kill either of those people unless he were told to by Reggie Galen. In fact, he wouldn’t dare unless he were told to.”
“You think Normie is lying?”
“He might be,” Jesse said.
“To impress me?”
“Maybe,” Jesse said.
“So maybe I find out who did it and I am wrong?” she said.
“Usually that kind of work for Reggie Galen would be done by a man named Bob Davis.”
“So I have failed?”
“No,” Jesse said. “You’ve done a great job. That tape gives me enough leverage on Normie to flip him.”
“ ‘Flip’?”
“Get him to testify for our side, make him a deal.”
“So he get away with it?” Natalya said.
“No, he’ll do time,” Jesse said.
“Not enough,” Natalya said.
“We flip him and we can probably roll up everybody involved. He’s a blow. Once I’ve got him, he’ll talk to me about everything.”
“My father-in-law can do that,” Natalya said.
“I’m sure he can,” Jesse said. “But with somebody’s foot on his neck, how do you know he’s telling the truth?”
“How will you?”
“We’ll gather evidence.”
Natalya leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs and tapped her fingertips together in front of her face.
“Who is this man, Bob Davis.”
“Reggie Galen’s bodyguard, last I knew,” Jesse said. “He’s not Normie.”
“No?”
“No,” Jesse said. “I’m pretty sure he’s the real deal.”
“You think he kill my husband?”
“I don’t know, but let me find out. Otherwise, you could end up killing the wrong man.”
“My father-in-law does not care if he kills somebody wrong,” she said.
“But you both care,” Jesse said, “about killing the right guy.”
“Yes.”
“If you kill Normie, you may eliminate our only chance to be sure who the right guy is,” Jesse said.
“You don’t think Normie is the right guy?”
“He might be. He might not be. The point is, even if he is the right guy, he isn’t the only right guy. Somebody told him to do it.”
Natalya nodded.
“Who?” Jesse said. “Why?”
She nodded again.
“I will discuss with my father-in-law,” she said, and stood.
Jesse unplugged the little recorder and took the tape and handed the recorder to Natalya.
“I’ll need the tape,” he said.
Natalya nodded.
“It is a copy,” she said.
“One other thing,” Jesse said. “Before you go.”
Natalya paused in the doorway.
“It is very brave,” Jesse said, “and very smart, what you did.”
“I loved my husband,” she said.
Jesse nodded.
“And somebody killed him,” she said.
Jesse nodded again.
“There has to be payment.”
“Yes,” Jesse said. “And there will be. Just give me enough time to make sure it’s payment in full.�
��
“I will discuss it with my father-in-law,” she said.
56
SUNNY HAD LUNCH with Jesse at Daisy’s Café.
“Did you tell me she originally wanted to name this place Daisy Dyke’s?” Sunny said.
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “But the town went bonkers. One civil liberties group started picketing the place, contended it was demeaning to dykes.”
“But Daisy is a dyke,” Sunny said. “Isn’t she?”
“Yep, and none of the picketers were.”
“I notice you always call it Daisy Dyke’s?” Sunny said.
“Yep,” Jesse said.
“Are you just being recalcitrant?” Sunny said.
“Probably,” Jesse said. “But she calls herself Daisy Dyke. I think I’m respecting her wishes.”
The waitress arrived with menus.
“Special today is strawberry pie. Bread is anadama. We got a lobster, tomato, and lettuce sandwich that’s not on the menu,” she said. “And the iced tea is mango. You want a minute?”
“Nope,” Sunny said. “I can do it.”
They ordered.
“I’m buying,” Sunny said.
“Good.”
“I want to talk about something, sort of off the record,” Sunny said.
“What record?” Jesse said.
“Never mind,” Sunny said. “What I really want, probably, is advice.”
“You, too?” Jesse said.
“What do you mean, me, too?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Jesse said. “Whaddya got?”
“There’s something nasty going on at the Bond of the Renewal,” Sunny said.
“What?” Jesse said.
Sunny told him about it. During the telling the waitress came and poured them iced tea from a large round pitcher. Jesse drank some as he listened.
“The kid’s with Spike,” Jesse said.
“Yes.”
“She should be safe there,” Jesse said.
“Unless someone has an elephant gun,” Sunny said.
“It is possible to acquire an elephant gun,” Jesse said.
“But unlikely at the Renewal House,” Sunny said.
“Anyway, you need any help looking out for her, let me know.”
“Thank you,” Sunny said. “Now, what are we going to do about the Bond of the Renewal?”
The waitress brought lunch. Jesse had the lobster sandwich. Sunny had a salad. Jesse’s iced tea was gone. The waitress refilled his glass.
“Seems to me they’re conducting a criminal enterprise,” Jesse said.
“Prostitution?”
“Yep, sexual coercion, maybe rape, maybe kidnapping,” Jesse said. “I’d say they are in trouble.”
“If she testifies,” Sunny said.
“And you think testifying would be hard on her,” Jesse said.
“Yes.”
“Probably some other folks we could get to testify instead,” Jesse said. “How would you like to handle this?”
“There are a couple of ways,” Sunny said. “One would be I go up there with Spike and admonish them.”
“I fear felonious assault,” Jesse said.
“Yes, that is a danger,” Sunny said. “The other way is that I go talk to them, and I keep the Paradise police informed, and we see what develops.”
“With an eye to protecting the kid as much as we can,” Jesse said.
“Cheryl,” Sunny said. “Yes. Okay with you?”
“The Paradise Police Department has a pretty full plate at the moment,” Jesse said. “I’m grateful for the help. I’ll tell Molly about it, and ask her to be, ah, liaison with you.”
The waitress cleared their lunch dishes, poured Jesse more iced tea, and said, “Dessert?”
“I need that strawberry pie,” Jesse said.
“Sure, Jesse,” the waitress said. “You, ma’am?”
“No, thank you,” Sunny said.
“Two forks?” the waitress said.
“No,” Jesse said.
57
AFTER LUNCH they walked back to the station, where Sunny had parked. It was late summer, and cooler than it usually was in August. The sky seemed clean and fresh, and the air was soft. The houses of the old town were built intimately next to each other and to the street. There were a lot of people walking around.
“You never told me who else was asking advice,” Sunny said.
Jesse told her. By the time he finished they had reached the police station and were leaning on Sunny’s car in the parking lot.
“Wow,” Sunny said. “That’s some woman.”
“You’d be even more impressed with her fortitude,” Jesse said, “if you knew Normie.”
“Have you listened to the tape?”
“The one she left, and five more she sent over,” Jesse said.
“How was that?”
“Awful,” Jesse said. “A lot of Normie talking about what a stud he was. A lot of sound effects from them having carnal knowledge.”
“Ugh,” Sunny said.
“Think how it was for her,” Jesse said. “But she never let on.”
“You think she might kill him?” Sunny said.
“She might,” Jesse said. “Ognowski’s father might. Ray Mulligan might, if he knew.”
“You do have a full plate,” Sunny said.
“I do.”
“Do you have a plan?” she said.
“I’ll talk to the DA,” Jesse said. “But I’d say I have enough to arrest Normie. Even if I don’t, I can bring him in and play the tapes for him.”
“And if you’re lucky, he’ll die of embarrassment,” Sunny said.
“And of course there’s still the Bang Bang Twins,” Jesse said.
“You say Normie was a bodybuilder?” Sunny said.
“Big-time,” Jesse said.
“My knowledge of them is secondhand,” Sunny said. “But it certainly seems possible that the twins might have played their game with a healthy young muscleman.”
“Or a strapping thug like Petrov Ognowski,” Jesse said.
“They played it with you,” Sunny said.
“Who can blame them for that,” Jesse said.
“Not me,” Sunny said. “You have anything else to do?”
“I’m going to see if I can find Bob Davis,” Jesse said.
“Will you do something for me?” Sunny said. “Will you run Jarrod Russell for me?”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “Who’s he?”
“The Patriarch of the Bond of the Renewal.”
“Jarrod Russell,” Jesse said.
Sunny nodded and leaned forward and kissed Jesse on the mouth. Jesse kissed her back. They embraced. Then each leaned away without releasing the other.
“Good luck,” Sunny said.
Jesse patted her on the backside.
“To us both,” he said.
58
WEARING PINK - AND - WHITE sneakers in case she needed to move quickly, and white shorts and a pink tank top to go with the sneakers, Sunny went to visit the Bond of the Renewal. She carried a white shoulder bag in which was lip gloss, a wallet, and a short-barreled revolver.
The Patriarch received her in the Renewal office, with a view of the harbor. He was wearing the same kind of white linen he’d worn when she’d seen him before. Must be his Patriarch uniform. He gestured for her to take a seat. She shook her head.
“I’ve come to pick up Cheryl DeMarco’s stuff,” she said.
The Patriarch blinked.
“Cheryl?” he said.
“Cheryl DeMarco,” Sunny said.
“Cheryl has run off,” the Patriarch said.
“Yes, she has,” Sunny said. “And she wants me to pick up her stuff.”
The Patriarch leaned back in his chair. It was a good chair, ergonomic in design.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Randall,” he said. “But Cheryl DeMarco’s stuff belongs to Cheryl DeMarco. It is not mine to give, nor yours to take.”
“Wow,” Sunny sa
id.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re good,” she said.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the Patriarch said.
“You truly sound like a kind man concerned with the individual rights of your people,” Sunny said.
“Yes,” the Patriarch said.
“But you are actually a man who will prostitute out young girls for money.”
Sunny watched as the pinkness faded from the Patriarch’s face, and his hair and face became the same color. It didn’t improve his appearance.
“What . . .” He seemed to be trying to catch his breath. “What . . . are you . . . saying?”
“I’m saying you’re a pimp,” Sunny said. “And I want Cheryl’s stuff down here in one minute or I’m calling the cops.”
“No,” the Patriarch said. “No. Wait.”
His voice had grown hoarse. Sunny held her arm out and looked at her wristwatch.
“No, we’ll get them right away. Just wait a minute. I’ll have someone get them right now.”
Sunny nodded and continued to look at her watch. The Patriarch picked up the phone and punched a button.
“Darlene,” he said. “This is an emergency. Get a couple of the girls to go to Cheryl DeMarco’s room and pack everything up and bring it to my office.”
He paused, listening.
“Use whatever is necessary,” he said. “Suitcase, plastic bag, whatever, just hurry up.”
He hung up the phone.
“It will be here very soon,” he said.
Sunny stopped looking at her watch and stood where she had stood since she came in, at an angle to the desk so that she could see the Patriarch but also see the door to the office.
“But we have to talk. We have to make some arrangement,” he said. “First of all, no such thing has ever happened. In fact, I categorically deny everything.”
“Categorically,” Sunny said.
He shook his head as if there was something in his ear. “Who on earth,” he said, “has told you such a terrible thing?”
Sunny shook her head sadly.
“Jarrod,” she said. “Jarrod. Don’t any of you jerks ever learn? What gets you in trouble, remember, is not so much the crime, it’s the damn cover-up.”
“You called me Jarrod,” he said.
“I feel that I know you,” Sunny said.
“I prefer to be called Patriarch,” he said.
The Jesse Stone Novels 6-9 Page 67
