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Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 14

Page 13

by Stone Kiss


  “You mean Hershfield?”

  “Yes, Hershfield. I went to see him because he’s being retained for the family. I didn’t want the police questioning them without representation.”

  Donatti laughed. “There’s a switch.”

  “Hershfield told me that certain parties resented my nosing around Ephraim’s death. I was wondering if that was you?”

  Donatti glared. “Do I seem like the type who’d whine to my lawyer? Christ, Decker, I gave you more credit than that.”

  “Well, someone isn’t happy.”

  “Then I would suggest you find out who’s doing the bitching. It may help solve your problem.” Donatti frowned. “You didn’t mention me to Hershfield, did you?”

  “No, I did not. Although if he’s your lawyer, I think he’d know that we have a history together.”

  “He knows about your putting me in prison. He also knows that you reopened the case and got me out of jail. But he doesn’t know about Teresa McLaughlin. And he certainly doesn’t know about the kid. I’d like to keep it that way.” Donatti swirled amber liquid around his glass. “Being as you do know about them, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that if anything ever happens to me and Terry’s left out in the cold, that you’ll take care of her and the kid.”

  “You mean your son, Chris.”

  “That’s subject to debate.”

  Decker fixed his eyes on Donatti’s face. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “No, I’m not kidding.”

  “Well, you should be kidding.”

  “Let me tell you something, Decker. I was married for three years and never came close to knocking up my wife.”

  “That’s because you have to bed her to get her pregnant.”

  Donatti laughed. “Man, ain’t that the truth. Being married to my ex-wife says a lot about the state of my hard-on. I can literally fuck anything. Problem is, I shoot blanks. I took tests. If there was one healthy little motherfucker swimming in my gonads, the doctor didn’t find it. Needless to say, I’m skeptical about the kid.”

  “We’re talking about Terry, Donatti.”

  “All it takes is one little motherfucker from one other cock, Decker.”

  “The boy is yours.”

  “So she says.”

  “C’mon! You’ve seen Gabriel, haven’t you, Donatti?”

  “Of course, I’ve seen him.” Donatti scowled. “All that says to me is she probably fucked some guy who looks like me.”

  “Take a paternity test. I guarantee you she won’t object.”

  “True. She says anytime, and that’s worth something. She knows what would happen if I caught her lying.” Donatti looked up at the ceiling. “Gabe’s a smart little motherfucker. Gifted too. He’s already playing several of Mozart’s piano concertos. How do I know this? Because I not only paid for the piano, but also for the bastard’s lessons.”

  “Good for you.”

  Donatti looked up. “He has an ear, I’ll give him that much. So maybe he is mine. He certainly didn’t get that kind of talent from his mother. Brains, yes, looks, yes, but not the gift. All that means is she fucked somebody who looked like me and who was musically tapped.”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous. Take the test, Chris. Then you won’t have to think about it.”

  “But what if she’s lying?” He made a face. “Then I’d have to pop her. I don’t want to pop Terry. I love her.”

  “You don’t have to pop her. And she’s not lying.”

  Donatti kept his eyes on his drink. “This morning, you asked about my contact with Terry. It consists of my going out to Chicago for a couple of days every other month. I spend time with the kid—pick him up from school, help him with his homework, sit with him while he practices the piano, take him out to dinner, then tuck him into bed. It gives Terry some extra time for her studies. Then after Gabe goes to sleep, I fuck Terry’s brains out. After we’re done, I give her money.” He shook his head. “There are blue laws on the books against things like that.”

  “It’s called supporting your child.”

  “It’s called being a sucker.” Donatti plunked the glass down on the table. “I want to know that she’ll be taken care of in case I get whacked.”

  “I’d help her out even if you didn’t get whacked.”

  “I know. You sent her money in the past.”

  “She’s paid me back—”

  “I paid you back.” He sat back in his chair. “After I reestablished contact with her, I paid off all her debts. They weren’t extravagant, but they were sizable.”

  “She wasn’t living the good life.”

  “Actually, she was living in a slum, working two jobs, and trying to support Gabe and go to school at the same time. The girl is industrious by nature. But I still rescued her even after she dumped me like garbage. I’m putting her through medical school; I’m paying for the kid’s private education. I pay her rent, give her money for food and clothing and utilities and insurance and books and whatever the hell else she needs. I’ve turned her life around, Decker. I’ve taken it from hell and morphed it into something livable, and all I ask for in return is sporadic sex and an occasional ‘I love you, Chris.’ She fakes it well, tries real hard to make me happy. And she does make me happy. She’s the only thing in the world that I’ve got—her and the kid—and I’m totally obsessed with her. Look, Decker, I don’t want you to help her out of the goodness of your heart. I want you to feel obliged to help her. That way, it’ll get done.”

  “She’s on her way to becoming a doctor. Why all the concern?”

  “We’re both orphans. I’m an actual orphan, and she’s got a useless father, a bitch of a stepmother, and two nice grandparents who are now too old to help her out. I need to know she’ll have somebody out there—for her and my son.”

  There was that real possibility that she would marry another man who could take very good care of her. Decker didn’t dare bring it up. “No problem. If she needs me, I’ll be there for her.”

  “Good.” Donatti stood up. “Good. I appreciate it. Thanks.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Offering nothing in return for Decker’s promise, Donatti stood. So did Decker. “So maybe we’ll talk again soon, Chris.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not.”

  C.D. don’t talk.

  It didn’t matter. Decker had done the favor, and they both knew what that meant. The actual words were superfluous.

  14

  One good thing that came out of the discussion with Donatti: Decker had never even considered his brother as a source of information. Randy had been in Vice and on the East Coast for a very long time. If there had been rumors circulating about the Liebers laundering drug money, it was possible that Randy would have heard about it.

  Decker called his brother on the cell. Randy picked up after the third ring. “Decker.”

  “It’s Decker,” Decker answered.

  “Peter, my man! When are you coming down? Dad just bought himself a set of new tools and a cooler of beer. He’s got definite ideas, bro.”

  “What kind of ideas? The toolshed.”

  “The toolshed, sure. But the patio’s all but gone. Crumbling stone, man. He’s got this vision of a deck and a hot tub—”

  Decker broke into laughter. “Oh-man-oh-man!”

  Randy was laughing, too. “The two of them in the tub… is that an image or what?”

  “More power to them,” Decker said. “And Ma’s agreeing to that?”

  “As long as she gets her new plumbing in the bathroom, she’s a happy camper.”

  “It’s a three-day stopover, Randy.”

  “I’m bringing over four guys. You’re the foreman, bro. What we’ve got is an old-fashioned barn raising with a twist.”

  “Swell.”

  They both laughed, they both let it die down. Then Decker grew serious. “I need to speak with you over a private line.”

&nbs
p; “Are you talking from a land phone?”

  “No, I’m on my cell. But I can find one.”

  “Do that. Then call me back at this number. It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get to the location.” Decker jotted down the number Randy gave him.“It’ll take me about thirty minutes,” he said.

  “Then you’d better get started.”

  Once Decker got a cab, the rest was easy. Luck was with him because Raisie was home. Jonathan’s wife was petite with elfin features. She had Kewpie-doll lips, a pinched nose, and round electric eyes. Bright red hair was clipped close to her face with feathered bangs falling over her forehead. A loose colorful caftan hung on her body. She put her finger to her lips. “I just got the children down for a nap.”

  “I’ll be quiet.”

  The Levines lived in a tiny apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. The location came with two small bedrooms, two munchkin-size bathrooms, a closet for a kitchen, and cramped space that barely held a couple of couches and a dining room table. For the luxury of living in a thousand square feet, they paid something like four thousand a month rent. It boggled the mind, and Decker wondered why anyone would put up with such usury, especially after the terrorist attacks. But New Yorkers were a fanciful lot, constantly convincing themselves that less was more.

  She let him inside but didn’t look happy to see him. “Jonathan’s at the shul.”

  “I need to use the phone, Raisie.”

  “You don’t have a cell?”

  “I need a land phone.” He spoke softly. “I know. I’m becoming a real pain in the ass.” She had told Hershfield as much. “Look, I’ll be out of your hair soon. You and your family don’t have to worry about that.”

  She lowered her head in shame. “Akiva, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Jonathan didn’t want to call you. I begged him to do it.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Decker answered.

  “It’s just that Chaim thinks…” Raisie stopped talking.

  Decker waited. “Chaim thinks what?”

  “He has this crazy idea that your investigation may be harming Shayndie’s survival.”

  “Okay.” He gathered his thoughts. “And how does that work exactly?”

  “He thinks she’s holed up somewhere. He thinks that the closer you get… that it might scare her off. Or maybe tell the people who hurt Ephraim where she is.”

  Decker’s heart skipped a beat. “She’s contacted him?”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “No. I mean, not that I know of. Maybe. He talks crazy. So does Minda. At this point, they both might be delusional.”

  “I don’t know, Raisie. It sounds to me like the ideas are coming from somewhere. Has he talked to you about Ephraim’s death, confided any suspicions to you?”

  “The answer is no. But I must be honest, Akiva. If he confided something in me, I wouldn’t tell you. I have to respect the family’s wishes.”

  Hence talking to Hershfield, trying to shut him down. “Even if it meant compromising Shayndie’s welfare?”

  She bristled, her visage hard and angry. “None of us would ever do something to compromise her welfare.”

  Decker was quiet.

  “Do you have any idea when Ephraim might be released?” Her voice was very cold. “We’d like to give our brother a proper burial.”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll call up Novack and ask him for you.”

  Raisie put her fist to her forehead. Then she looked up. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Decker tried to hide his anger. “I have to use your phone. I need some privacy.”

  “In the back bed—” She sighed with a heavy heart. “Akiva, don’t be upset with me. Don’t be mad. Please. If Jonathan knew that I’ve upset you, he’d be very angry. He adores you… absolutely worships the ground you walk on.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I’ve lost my brother. Please be patient.”

  Decker ran his hand down his face. The woman was in mourning for a dead brother, had two small children, and was under terrible strain. “Raisie, I’m sorry. I’m very pushy when I work. It’s an occupational hazard. I’ll call up Novack for you as soon as I make this other call.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “You know what? How about if I use the phone in the kitchen, and you go lie down?”

  She wiped her face. “I need to get some things done.”

  “You’re in mourning. You’re not supposed to be working at all.”

  “We haven’t started the shiva yet.”

  “So get some rest while you can.”

  “It’s actually a good idea.” Tears in her eyes. “I’m so tired!”

  “Rest, Raisie.”

  Finally, she agreed. Decker waited until she was out of sight. Then he dialed the number that Randy had given him.

  “It’s me,” Randy said. “Go.”

  Decker whispered, “Money laundering. Emmanuel Lieber. He owns a chain of discount electronic-equipment stores. Cameras, computers, phones, radios, stereos… stuff like that. Business has been hard lately. Four days ago, one of his sons was murdered. Ephraim Lieber. He had a history of drug problems. He was with his niece. Now she’s missing.”

  “How old?”

  “The niece is fifteen. Also, there’s another brother I want you to check out. Chaim spelled Charles-Henry-Adam-Ida-Mary.”

  “Last name is L-E-I-B-E-R?”

  “L-I-E-B-E-R.”

  “And the vic’s first name?”

  Decker spelled Ephraim, then Shaynda.

  “Got it,” Randy said. “Ephraim Lieber…. Lieber…” A five-second pause. “No, none of it rings a bell. I take it they all are Jewish?”

  “Yep.”

  “Chasidic?”

  “Yes. Exactly. Why?”

  Randy said, “We’ve had a few cases where your religious brethren have done some naughty things regarding illegal substances.”

  “What kind of substances?”

  “The gamut from what I remember. I’ll look it up for you, Peter. Mostly, we get the Chasids on more typical charges—slumlording, rest-home fraud, tax evasion. And soliciting. You’d be surprised how many of these religious types pay for pussy. Born-again Christians as well as Jews. Course, we got a lot of pussy for sale in Miami. Anyway, I’ll check around.”

  “Thanks, Randy. So I’ll see you when you get down to Gainesville.”

  “You bet. I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Pete, I know I’m your baby brother. And I always will be your baby bro. But let me give you a solid word of advice. Cause I know the East Coast, and you don’t. Those guys, they’re nothing but trouble. Don’t put your balls on the line. They won’t appreciate it.”

  “You’re not the first one who’s told me that.” A pause. “You’re not the second one, either.”

  “Then maybe you should listen.”

  “Maybe I should.”

  “But you won’t.” Randy sighed. “You’re a stubborn guy. Not unlike the other Decker kinfolk I’ve known.”

  “It runs in the family, Randy.”

  “We’re adopted, Peter.”

  “Well, there you go, baby bro. Genes aren’t everything.”

  It was time to touch base with Novack. Their last interaction had left the New York detective testy, and Decker didn’t want to leave with a sour taste. And Raisie had asked about the release of her brother’s body. He took out his cell and punched in the numbers. When he answered, Decker asked him how the game went.

  “Like you don’t know?” Exasperation. “You know who they were playing against.”

  “The Lakers.”

  “More L.A. wise guys who think they’re God.”

  “Now you’re being sore.”

  “You see the game?”

  “I heard the game,” Decker answered. “Shaq fouled out in the fourth, but Kobe brought it home in overtime.”

  “Yada, yada, yada,” Novack said. “How’d it go?”

  “How’d wh
at go?”

  “With C.D.?”

  “Oh yeah, that. Nothing.”

  “He wasn’t in.”

  “No, I saw him. He even offered me coffee. I drank it and am still alive to tell the tale. So I guess it wasn’t laced with strychnine.”

  “What’d you think of his place?”

  “We talked in the reception area.” The truth, but not the whole truth. “He has a metal detector right when you come in.”

  “Probably has a lot more than that.”

  “I’m sure he packs, but I didn’t see it,” Decker said. “Have you ever been inside the place?”

  “Nope. Never had the occasion. You ask him about the murder?”

  “Yeah.” Decker waited an appropriate amount of time. “He didn’t say anything, of course. I thought maybe I could read his face, but he’s pretty stony.”

  “It’s his specialty.”

  “I gave him my card. If I suddenly get whacked, you’ll know who to interrogate.”

  “That ain’t funny, Decker.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow, Mick. I don’t think C.D. will follow me to L.A. And if he does, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “You’re sounding blasé about rather serious matters.”

  “That’s jet lag talking. There is a purpose to this call. My relatives want to know when Ephraim’s body will be released for burial. No pressure: I just told them I’d make the call.”

  “I think I heard something about releasing the body tomorrow. I’ll get back to them.”

  “Appreciate it. Anything new?”

  “Wish I could tell you different, Pete, but no. Nothing’s new. By the way, I put out a couple of feelers into whatshisface… Marino… the police chief in Quinton.”

  “Virgil Merrin. Good idea. Anything?”

  “Nothing so far, but I’m sure you expected that.”

  “Why should anything be easy?” Decker told him.

  “Hey, we’ll solve it,” Novack insisted. “But it ain’t gonna be a slam dunk. You want that, talk to Shaq. Look, if I don’t see you again, it was nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” Decker answered. “Thanks for everything, Novack. Maybe one day I can reciprocate. You have my number. If you’re ever in L.A., give me a call.”

 

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