by Stuart Woods
Dino blinked. “Is that right?”
“There was no number, just the message and that’s it.”
“Midnight last night?”
“According to the voice mail.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“No kidding.”
“Go to court. Act as if nothing happened. Let me handle it.”
“How can you handle it? What is there to handle?”
“Let me worry about that. You just get ready for court.”
Dino hung up and called Stone. “I think Herbie’s losing it.”
“Can you blame him?”
“No, he just called me and said he got an anonymous phone call saying his girlfriend’s been kidnapped.”
“What?”
“I know, it makes no sense. He said they threatened to kill her if he doesn’t lose the case. Do you think there’s a chance Yvette’s death had to do with the case after all?”
“How would the con man fit in? And why would they make the threat after she’s already dead?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, I wish I could be more help, but I have to be in court.”
“You seen the New York Post?”
“Why?”
“It’s on the front page. Lawyer’s girlfriend murdered. You can bet at least half of the jurors will have seen it.”
“Does it mention Herbie?”
“Says he was questioned as a suspect. The fact that the police are now looking for another suspect didn’t make the cut.”
“Has Herbie seen it?”
“He didn’t say. But he had other things on his mind.”
Stone sighed. “Oh, Christ. He’s probably the only one in New York who hasn’t.”
65
STONE BARRINGTON ARRIVED at court to find Herbie there already.
“Are you all right?” Stone said.
“No, but I managed to tie my tie. This morning I’m a nervous wreck.”
“I can take the cross.”
“What does it matter? If I don’t dump the case, they’ll kill my dead girlfriend.”
“Dino told me. He’s on it. We need to concentrate on winning this case.”
“Are you saying I can’t?”
“I’m sure you can if you’re not inhibited by an empty threat.”
The jurors were led in. It was clear from their posture that most of them had either read or heard of the story in the Post. Before the witness was returned to the stand, Stone Barrington stood up to address the court.
“Your Honor, I have a motion that should be made in chambers.”
Judge Buckingham glared down at the defense table. “We have already wasted a full day of the court’s time. I think we should proceed.”
Stone Barrington’s eyes twinkled. “Would you like me to make this motion in open court, Your Honor?”
Judge Buckingham could not think of a proper rebuke. “Attorneys. In my chambers,” he snapped, and slammed the gavel down.
When they were all assembled in chambers, Judge Buckingham said, “What is it now?”
“Your Honor,” Stone said, “the New York Post has a front-page story saying that Mr. Fisher’s girlfriend has been murdered, and that he is being questioned as a suspect in the crime. Under the circumstances, you can hardly expect the jurors to render a fair and impartial verdict in this case. I ask you to declare a mistrial, dismiss the jury, and postpone proceedings until we can impanel an impartial jury.”
“I had a feeling that was the motion you were about to make. The jurors have been instructed not to read or listen to any news stories relating to the crime. There is no reason to suppose that they have disobeyed the court’s order. The motion is denied.”
“The jurors wouldn’t know this article had any bearing on the case until they read it, Your Honor. At which point the harm would be done.”
“The only way to tell would be to question the jurors. If they didn’t know before, they’d know then. I’m not going to deliberately create a mistrial. I have already denied your motion. If you persist in pursuing this, you will be in contempt of court.”
Judge Buckingham turned on his heel and strode from chambers.
“What do we do now?” Herbie said.
“Relax,” Stone said. “I’ll take the cross.”
When the lawyers were back in court and Detective Kelly had been returned to the stand, Judge Buckingham said, “Does the defense have any further questions for this witness?”
Stone stood up. “The defense does, Your Honor.”
In the back of the courtroom, a tough-looking thug got up and walked out.
66
A CAB PULLED up to Cousin Lou’s house in Queens. Mookie got out, told the driver to wait, and went in.
Lou was asleep on the couch. Mookie gave it a kick. Cousin Lou woke with a start and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“What the fuck?”
“Where’s the girl?”
“Upstairs.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s locked in.”
“When did you see her last?”
“This morning. I took her to the bathroom.”
“Let’s go.”
Cousin Lou led the way upstairs and unlocked the door.
Melanie was sitting on the bed. She sprang up when the door opened, but shied back when she saw it was Mookie. He walked in, took ahold of her chin, and twisted her face up to look at him.
“Who are you?”
She pulled away and glared at him.
“Come on, honey. What’s your name?”
“Melanie Porter.”
“You’re Herb Fisher’s girlfriend.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“But you know him.”
“He’s my brother’s attorney.”
Mookie’s eyes widened. “Really? Who’s your brother?”
“David Ross.”
A grin spread over Mookie’s face. “Is that so?” He jerked his thumb at Lou. “Lock her up. Call your cousin. I want at least two guys here at all times. Preferably three. And stay awake.”
As soon as he was out the front door, Mookie whipped out his cell phone and called Taperelli.
“I think we just hit the jackpot.”
• • •
JULES KENWORTH DIGESTED the information. “Run that by me again.”
Taperelli spoke with glee. “We got the councilman’s daughter. We thought she was the lawyer’s girlfriend because he’d taken her out. We didn’t peg her as the councilman’s daughter because she’s got a different name—Melanie Porter. You wouldn’t know her father was Ross.”
“She’s the councilman’s little girl?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that great? As long as we’re holding her, the old man’s going to do what we want. Now you don’t even need a verdict. We just hang on to her until after the vote.”
“That works this time, for this vote, but I need Ross to approve everything I do. I want his kid in jail so he always votes my way.”
“I understand.”
“Then do it.”
67
MELANIE COULDN’T get out. She’d come to that conclusion not without considerable experimentation. The window in the room was indeed nailed shut. There was no way she was moving the railroad spikes, even if she had something to pry them with, which she didn’t. If by some miracle she did manage to get the window open, she would face a two-story drop onto solid concrete. There was only a bare wall, nothing to climb down. As for smashing a pane and calling out, the window faced the back alley, not the street. There was no corresponding window in the house beyond, and the chances of anyone hearing her were nil.
The window was the only possible means of escape except for the door, which was always locked, except when that moron took her to the bathroom. Lou, as she’d heard them call him, wasn’t very big, but he had a gun. He always had it out when he opened the door, not like he needed it, but like he got a thrill out of c
arrying it. His lack of expertise was not comforting. He looked like he could shoot her by mistake.
Melanie was pretty sure she could overpower Lou if it weren’t for the gun. Just the element of surprise would give her the advantage, but she had to be a little more desperate before she tried it. And the longer she waited, the less he’d be expecting it.
The door opened and Melanie looked up from the bed. A thug stuck his head in the door and said, “Bathroom.”
It wasn’t Lou. It was another guy, slightly bigger, probably of equal intelligence. And he didn’t have a gun.
Melanie’s pulse quickened. If she was ever going to make a move, the time was now.
She got up from the bed, dispiritedly, and trudged out the door.
He walked behind her to the bathroom. She measured his steps. She spun suddenly, grabbed his wrist, and pulled down. Her other hand chopped down on his forearm.
He pulled back in pain and surprise.
She kicked him full out in the balls.
He doubled up in pain, and she dashed by him and darted down the stairs.
Lou was lounging on the couch. He lunged to his feet, grabbing for his gun.
She ran by him. The front door was unlocked. She flung it open, dashed out into the street, and yelled, “Help!” at the top of her lungs.
No one heard, no windows opened, no one came out any door, except for the armed thug who was right on her heels.
She reached the corner and turned right.
A car was coming down the street. There were two men in the front seat. Lou wouldn’t shoot her in front of witnesses. She ran straight at the car, waving her arms frantically.
The driver hit the brakes and skidded to a stop.
Chico and Gus got out of the car. Chico had a gun in his hand. He pointed it at her, looked at Lou, who was doubled up out of breath, and shook his head in disgust.
He swung the butt of the gun at her head and knocked her out.
68
COUNCILMAN ROSS GOT the call on his lunch break. He’d have gotten it sooner, but he couldn’t take calls in court. He was just coming down the steps when his phone rang.
It was his secretary. She’d been calling him every five minutes.
“You’re about to get a phone call. Make sure you answer.”
“Of course.”
“It’s important.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Please. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A man called, insistent, asking to speak to you immediately. When I said you were in court, he didn’t seem to understand that your phone wasn’t on, got quite angry.”
“Maybe it was just a crank.”
“I don’t think so. This was scary. Answer your phone.”
The line beeped.
“This must be it.” Ross switched the call. “Yes?”
It was a male voice, hostile and threatening. “Councilman. I understand you’ve been in court. This is not good. The case should be over.”
“Who is this?”
“A fan. I like your work. I’d like to see it continue.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“That would be a mistake. Do you care about your children?”
“What about my children?”
“Well, your son’s on trial, and your daughter isn’t. Who do you think is in the most danger?”
“Now, look here—”
“No, you look here. I’m telling you how it is, and how it’s gonna be. If you care for your children, you’re going to listen hard and you’re not going to get it wrong. Here’s the situation. It’s very simple, but it’s very important, so pay attention. This is a matter for you and not for the police. Should the police become involved, the story would be over, and it will not have a happy ending. The story will only have a happy ending if we keep this to ourselves. This is just between you and me.”
There was a pause, and then the ultimatum.
“Your daughter’s not coming home until your son’s case is lost. If he wins the case, she’s not coming home at all.”
69
COUNCILMAN ROSS CALLED his daughter. It went to voice mail. He left a message. “Melanie, it’s Dad. Call me back as soon as you get this.”
He hung up and called his secretary. “I need to speak to Melanie. She’s not answering her phone. Call the hospital, find out when she went to work and when she gets off. Leave a message for her. If you get her on the phone, I need to speak to her immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
She called back in ten minutes. “She didn’t come in today.”
“At all?”
“No. No one’s seen her since last night. She was supposed to be on shift today but never showed. I left messages in case she does come in, but she’s not there.”
Councilman Ross hung up and hurried down the street to the little diner where he and Herbie had had lunch. Herbie was in a booth with David and Stone Barrington. They asked him to join them, but he waved it away.
“I have to talk to Herb.”
Herbie got up from his seat. The councilman practically pulled him outside.
“What’s up?” Herbie said.
“Melanie’s missing.”
“What?”
“I just got a phone call saying she won’t be home until we lose the case. And if we win the case, she won’t be home at all.”
“You mean Taperelli has got her?”
“That’s what it looks like. She’s not answering her phone, and she didn’t show up for work.”
“We’ve got to go to the police.”
“They’ll kill her if we do.”
“Stone Barrington’s friends with the police commissioner. They can be discreet.”
“The police framed my son. Do you think they wouldn’t know?”
“What do you want to do?”
“They said to lose the case.”
“Do you want your son in jail?”
“Of course I don’t want my son in jail.”
“Okay, so we don’t finish the case. They’re not going to hurt her until the case is over.”
“Yes, but it has to be soon. If we stall, they’ll hurt her.”
Herbie exhaled noisily and thought that over. “Okay. That’s the situation. We can’t finish the case, and we can’t stall.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” Councilman Ross said. “How are you going to handle that?”
Herbie smiled grimly. “Just watch me.”
70
WHEN COURT RECONVENED Herbie said, “Let me take the witness.”
“Are you sure?” Stone said.
“Let me take a shot. You can always stop me if I go far afield.”
Stone hesitated. Having read the transcript, Stone considered Herbie’s whole cross-examination far afield. “Fine. If you flounder, I’m jumping in.”
Judge Buckingham banged the gavel. “Gentlemen. Do you have any more questions for this witness?”
Herbie stood up and approached the stand. “I’m almost done with this witness, Your Honor. Just one or two more questions.”
“Proceed.”
“Detective, we’re almost done. I have just one small matter to clear up while you’re on the stand. How did you know that the defendant would be selling drugs at the party?”
The detective hesitated. “From intelligence received from the narcotics division.”
“The narcotics division is tough to subpoena, Detective. What person informed you the defendant would be there?”
“I would have to consult my notes.”
“Your Honor, I ask that the detective be given time to consult his notes before I continue my cross-examination.”
“Detective Kelly, how long will it take you to consult your notes?”
“Some little while, Your Honor. My notes are back at the precinct.”
“There is no one else with that information in court?”
“Your Honor,” Herbie sai
d, “are you suggesting I rely on secondhand hearsay information from a person not even under oath?”
“I am not, Mr. Fisher, and you know it. Detective, you are excused to get your notes. Please get all your notes. Everything you could possibly need to complete your testimony. Bring it to the courthouse tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.
“We are about to adjourn. Jurors are admonished once again not to talk about the case. Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
71
TOMMY TAPERELLI WAS supervising a shipment down by the docks. There was no danger in doing so because there was no contraband on board. Somewhere between Colombia and the Jersey Shore, several kilos of cocaine had been removed and replaced with baby laxative. This was not unheard of. Tommy Taperelli’s coke was always cut with baby laxative, only it was cut after it arrived, increasing his profits as much as twofold. The shipment in question had been cut before it arrived, decreasing the value of the product he had bought.
The substitution might have gone unnoticed had not Tommy Taperelli had a chemist standing by in the warehouse to test the coke as soon as it arrived. After testing samples from several kilos, the chemist was able to report back to Tommy Taperelli that the product in question had a ninety-nine percent chance of proving effective in the case of a constipated baby.
Hence Tommy’s visit to the ship.
Taperelli was having a chat with the captain, a swarthy man with scraggly black hair and a beard, who was proclaiming his innocence. “I’m the captain. I run the ship. I don’t handle the cargo.”
“Who does?”
“Emilio.”
Emilio, a skinny young Colombian with greasy hair and shifty eyes, also disavowed all knowledge, but had no one to pass the buck to.
Taperelli let Emilio protest until it became boring, then told two of his henchmen to “show him the bill of lading,” and they walked him away.
Show him the bill of lading was a euphemism. Emilio wasn’t coming back.
Taperelli was coming down the gangplank when his phone rang.
It was Mookie, calling from court. “Bad news.”
Taperelli couldn’t believe it. “We’re stalling?”
“It’s that fucking detective,” Mookie said. “He asked for an adjournment.”
“Why would he do that?”
“The lawyer finessed him. Asked him something he didn’t know. Something he’d have to look up. Here’s the lawyer saying I want to wind up my testimony. Here’s the detective saying I have to consult my notes.”
