“Kids her age often are at odds with their parents. They usually get over it.”
“If she lives long enough.”
Maura Dallas said it so dispassionately that Scarne was momentarily shocked. Then he remembered who she was. He’d always suspected that women were tougher than men when it came to matters of the heart or family. And a woman who ran a criminal empire would be even tougher. At least in the face she showed to outsiders.
“Where is her father in all of this?”
“There is no father.”
Scarne looked at Sealth.
“What I mean to say,” Maura explained, “is that I am a single mother. I got myself pregnant in law school and decided to keep the baby. The man never knew I was pregnant and would have no way of knowing I had a child.”
“Did your daughter ever try to find him?”
Maura Dallas’s smile held no mirth.
“I did not want Alana looking for him. When she was old enough to understand, I told her that her father was an anonymous sperm donor. She thinks she came out of a test tube. Her hair is blond and her skin is fairer than mine. The story made sense to her.”
“What year is she in?”
“Junior. Dean’s List at Barnard.”
There was obvious pride in the statement.
“Where was she living?”
“An apartment on Riverside Drive she shared with two other girls, a few blocks from the campus.”
“What do her roommates say?”
“They don’t even know she is missing. Both left on Easter break before she did. Last they saw of Alana she was still in the apartment. She was due to catch a plane the next day.”
“But they know she’s missing now.”
“No. They think she is still in California. We called them and said Alana came down with mono while she was home and was recovering. That’s what we told the school, too.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
Scarne looked surprised.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. At least no one serious. Don’t get me wrong. Alana is very beautiful, and was quite popular in high school, and I presume here. I’m sure she had her flings. We’re not close but I spoke to her about sex. I was candid with her about my own sex life when I was her age, and she knows that I am still active in that regard. It’s nothing that would embarrass either of us. If she had someone special, she would have told me. Or Vincent.”
“Vincent?”
“They don’t keep anything from each other. He’s like an uncle to her.”
Scarne looked over at “Uncle” Vincent, one of the nation’s most-accomplished assassins.
Anastasia shook his head.
“No boyfriend.”
Scarne got up and poured himself more coffee, the way Anastasia suggested. He looked at the others and held the pot up. They all declined. He tasted the coffee. It was indeed better.
“I don’t think it was a coincidence that your daughter was taken during a school break. Whoever took her was probably counting on her not being missed for at least a week, other than by you, of course. And that would mean he, or they, knew she planned to go home.”
“Why do you say that?” Anastasia asked.
“Because college kids don’t necessarily go home on breaks. Some stay in New York, where there is plenty to do when there is no class. Some go to Florida, the Caribbean and God knows where else. They go in groups or visit friends. If I’m right about the plan to take your daughter during a break, whoever took her knew you expected her. Hence, the video a day after the kidnapping.”
“She probably told a lot of people where she was going,” Anastasia said.
“Sure. But it’s a place to start,” Sealth said. “You can probably eliminate most of them as suspects. But something may pop up.”
“Unless, you guys are wrong about it being a coincidence she was snatched during the Easter break. Could be someone she didn’t tell, even a random nut who got lucky.”
“What demands have been made?” Scarne asked.
“None,” Maura Dallas said. “Just that part about waiting for further instructions.”
Scarne got up and put his hands on the back of his chair and looked at her.
“Ms. Dallas, I’ll be honest with you. You don’t want to hear it, but Noah is right. The police are much better at this sort of thing than I am. I know you probably don’t like the Bureau. I can understand that. I’m not crazy about them, either. But they take kidnapping very seriously, especially when a child or young girl is the victim. You will be treated just like any other mother. Cops have kids, too. They will pull out all the stops. They have vastly more resources than I have, especially where technology is involved. They’re not as good as Hollywood makes it seem, where they ping cell towers and triangulate signals and all that crap, but you stand a better chance with them than with me.”
Maura Dallas dismissed Scarne’s arguments with a wave of her hand.
“I don’t want the F.B.I. hanging around, taking the opportunity to plant bugs or otherwise intrude in my affairs, under the cover of looking for my daughter. I want my daughter back. Alive. But I have my own resources and I thought it prudent to follow the instructions on the videos while I used them. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. If I did, I will have to live with it.”
“Then why involve me?”
“My activities are concentrated on the West Coast. As Vincent noted, we have some reliable people in New York, but they are low-level. I have checked you out, thoroughly. I have studied some of your cases. You are not only good, but you have a reputation for bending the rules, even breaking them when necessary, to help your clients. And you have contacts, on both sides of the law.”
“If you studied my cases, you also know it didn’t turn out too well for some of the people involved.”
Maura Dallas reached into the pocket of her suit and took out a photo, which she slid across to Scarne.
“One in particular, Mr. Scarne. You asked the reason why I came to you. This will explain.”
Scarne picked up the photo. It showed two young women in ski clothes, sitting together with arms around each other at an outdoor table at what obviously was a resort. It was probably a summit restaurant, to judge by the skis piled against a wall in the background and the red cheeks on the girls. Both girls had steaming cups in their free hands as they posed. One of the women was Maura Dallas, younger, with shorter hair, but looking not much different than she did now. The other girl was a lovely blond. He looked up at Dallas, too stunned to speak. Noah Sealth walked around the table and took the photo from Scarne.
“Jesus Christ,” Sealth said.
“She was my best friend,” Maura Dallas said. “I named my daughter after her.”
She looked at Scarne.
“And I know how much Alana Loeb meant to you.”
CHAPTER 6 - TWO ALANAS
Maura Dallas turned to Anastasia.
“Vincent, I would like to talk to Mr. Scarne alone. Perhaps you and Mr. Sealth can go in the other room and catch up on old times. Compare bodies.”
Sealth looked at Scarne, who nodded. Then without another word he and Anastasia left, shutting the door behind them. Scarne sat, facing the woman. She picked up the photo from the table.
“This was taken when we were both in high school, or what passes for high school in France. We attended Notre Dame des Monts, Our Lady of the Mountains, in Chamonix. Do you know it?”
“The ski resort. I’ve been there. Is that where the photo was taken?”
“No. St. Moritz, in the Engadine Valley in Switzerland. On holiday. We skied all over Europe. Mostly Chamonix, of course. It was basically right out the door of the school.”
“I never heard of Our Lady of the Mountains.”
“Not many people know about the school. It’s private, run by a small order of nuns, and specializes in young girls who, for one reason or another, are hard to handle. Not troublemakers, exactly, but what I like to call fr
ee thinkers. Rebellious. Also, girls whose families wanted them educated far from their home environments.”
Maura Dallas smiled.
“I qualified on all counts, and so did Alana Loeb. We naturally gravitated toward one another, and eventually roomed together. Once we realized how much we had in common, we told each other everything. My father would have had a stroke, if he knew. But, then, he tried to warn me away from Alana because of her past. Needless to say, that only made her more intriguing to me. We were both, after all, innocents corrupted by forces beyond our control.”
Maura Dallas looked at the photo and smiled grimly.
“You would never know by looking at this how many miles were on each of us, would you? After we graduated, I came back to the States and Alana returned to Mendoza in Argentina. We always kept in touch, through college and then law school. When my brother was killed, she came out to San Francisco, and was my rock. My father was a wreck, but even he knew she was something different. He even apologized for trying to keep us apart in France. But after that I became more and more involved in my family’s business and Alana settled in Miami. Neither of us were the kind of girlfriends who exchange recipes or compare contestants on Dancing With the Stars over the phone, but we’d touch base a couple of times a year. I never saw her after my brother’s funeral. I guess we were each other’s only real friend. Knowing that was enough. Do you understand what I mean?”
Scarne thought of Dudley Mack.
“Yes.”
“We never spoke about our respective business, but I was in a position to hear things, and I knew Alana was into some very heavy stuff with that Ballantrae situation. Who was I to judge? Glass houses and all that. But the last time I spoke to her, she sounded like she was on the verge of getting out from whatever she was in.” Maura Dallas paused. “And she told me about you. I think she hoped you were going to be part of her escape. But it didn’t work out that way, did it?”
Scarne was silent.
“Then she disappeared,” Dallas continued, “and I heard more things from our contacts with other families, particularly the Ukrainians. I won’t ask you if they are true, or what really happened. But in our last conversation, Alana said you were the only man she ever loved. You had saved her life at great risk to your own. You were tough and could be trusted. I filed it away, never thinking I might need someone like you. Someone outside the family. But now I do. I can’t dismiss the possibility that someone has betrayed me.”
“By taking your child? If this is an inside job, why wouldn’t they just come after you directly?”
“Because I’m a woman. Because they might think I will collapse and be forced to hand over the reins. I don’t know. I didn’t say it was likely. But I cannot afford to ignore any possibilities.”
“Who in your organization stand to gain from a change in leadership?”
“No one I can think of. There are uncles, but they are old and fat, and happy to receive the dividends my legitimate businesses kick off. My sources in law enforcement tell me that the F.B.I. doesn’t even bother keeping tabs on them. All their wiretaps provided were descriptions of prostate problems and hip replacements. Some of their children, my cousins, are in the family business, legitimate or otherwise. We all get along, but I suppose one of them may be jealous. You may feel obliged to check all of them out, but, trust me, Vincent will beat you to it. And they have their own children, who grew up with Alana. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Scarne stood up and walked to the window. He looked down at the skaters in the famous Rockefeller Center ice rink, which would be closing soon for the season. He’d never even been tempted to ice skate. He thought of Alana Loeb, and the last time he saw her in the Florida Keys. He thought of her skiing at Chamonix. She would probably have also been a wonderful ice skater. Maura Dallas named her daughter after her. A daughter who was kidnapped. A daughter who might be dead by now. Probably was. But maybe not.
Maura Dallas walked over and stood beside Scarne.
Without looking at her he said, “Where can I reach you, Ms. Dallas?”
“Please call me Maura. I’ve taken a suite at the Peninsula. I will give the information to your secretary. And a retainer. If you need more, just contact Vincent. I will give her all our numbers. I plan on staying in New York, but I may have to fly to the Coast on occasion. Vincent will stay here. Use him any way you want, although he will be making his own inquiries.”
Scarne turned to face her.
“This may not turn out well. You must realize that.”
She nodded. Her face betrayed no emotion.
“Just do your best, Jake.”
“It is probable that I will intrude on your life, and your business. Once I start something, I keep going. And I don’t take direction well. Can you live with that?”
“I will make it clear to my people that you can be trusted. As for others in my line of work, I can let it be known that you are working on my behalf. Things are quiet. We are not in conflict with anyone, at least in any serious way. I cannot imagine that any of my enemies or rivals are behind this. The risks are too great. But I would not expect them, innocent or not, to be very forthcoming. I won’t micromanage your investigation. All I ask is that you report only to Vincent or myself.”
“What about your other lovers?”
“I’ll give a you a list of the men, and women, recently in my life. It’s not all that long. I’m getting older, maybe wiser. I don’t think any of them are involved, but I know you will cover all the bases. In fact, I’d prefer it if you vetted them. I told Vincent to leave them alone.” Again, the thin smile. “I’m fond of them and his methods leave something to be desired.”
Scarne was not sure his own methods would be much different, especially when looking for a missing girl. But he let it go.
Maura Dallas looked back out the window.
“Aren’t you interested in the size of the retainer?”
“No.”
She looked back at him.
“No. Of course not.”
“Your daughter’s last name is the same as yours?”
“Yes. Alana Dallas. My father wanted me to change my name before I became too associated with his business. A silly conceit, I thought, and one which became less sensible after I took over that business, but I never changed it back. Alana was born a Dallas, and so she remains.”
“I will need her photo and whatever else you can think of. Names of friends, especially. Social Security number, credit cards, banking records, anything with her name on it. I know her smart phone is gone, but perhaps she has an old one with numbers still on it.”
“I’ll have everything sent over to you.”
“Did Alana have a computer?”
“Yes, a laptop, for schoolwork. We found it in her apartment. I had people go through it. Nothing out of the ordinary. She also had an iPad, which was not in the apartment. She probably had it with her when she was taken.”
“What about her emails?”
“We had someone hack her accounts, Twitter, Facebook and the like. Nothing suspicious. Alana knew enough to be very circumspect on social media.”
“If the cops were involved, they might find something you missed. A pattern, maybe.”
Maura Dallas’s laugh was harsh.
“I live in San Francisco, and have investments in Silicon Valley. I have access to some of the finest computer brains in the world. Despite what you see on those ridiculous crime shows on TV, the F.B.I. is still in the Stone Age compared to the people I had working on this. It’s a dead end.”
“Maura, these people who work for you. Won’t they be suspicious?”
“The computer geeks are in a world of their own. They are used to delving into people’s business without wondering why. And, needless to say, they would not be inclined to blab about anything to do with my family.”
“I want copies of all the videos from the kidnapper. And new ones, as they come in, if there are any more. You can arrange to get them to
Evelyn.”
“Of course. You trust her?”
“With my life.”
“Is she efficient?”
“Evelyn could have run D-Day while getting her nails done. Trust her as you would trust me or Noah.”
Maura Dallas stuck out her hand. Scarne took it.
“I appreciate this, Jake.” She eyed him coldly. “You couldn’t save your Alana. Maybe you can help save mine.”
CHAPTER 7 - THE DALLASSIOS
After Maura Dallas and Vincent Anastasia left, Scarne and Sealth went into Scarne’s office. Evelyn Warr followed them.
“So,” Sealth said, taking a client’s chair, “we’re doing this.”
“Yeah,” Scarne said, sitting behind his desk. “That’s one tough cookie.”
“No one like her. You do realize this is going to be a hair ball.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a $100,000 hair ball, Noah,” Evelyn said, waving a check at him.
Sealth whistled.
“She had the check already written out,” Evelyn said. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“Deposit it,” Scarne said. “Her money is as good as some of the fees we get from politicians. Maybe better.”
“She knew her man,” Sealth said dryly as Evelyn left for the bank.
Scarne shrugged.
“Tell my about the Dallassios.”
Sealth put his feet up on Scarne’s desk and tented his fingers.
“Well, they are based out of San Francisco,” he said. “Started out small, as fish wholesalers and minor racketeers in the 1920’s but eventually became the top dogs among the Dago mobs.”
Scarne, who was half Sicilian, did not take offense. It was cop talk. Sealth, part Indian, part black, didn’t have a prejudiced bone in his body.
“That makes them top dogos, no?”
“Whatever. Anyway, I know most of this second-hand. We had our own guinea crime families in Seattle, the Bruttis being the most prominent. They kept us pretty busy.”
Scarne nodded. He knew the Brutti family well, having killed their top button man years earlier in Antigua during the Ballantrae debacle. It still amazed him that the Bruttis gave him a complete pass on that, thanks to his subsequent actions. And the intercession of Dudley Mack, Scarne’s best friend, a part-time New York criminal and full- time power broker, didn’t hurt.
FACETS (JAKE SCARNE THRILLERS Book 6) Page 5
