Murder in Paradise

by James Patterson

  “On my way,” I said, standing up. I checked the beach automatically, remembering that I was still on the job.

  I dialed Carly immediately. “Hey, I’ve got trouble. Can you find a sub for me? And loan me your car?”

  She didn’t hesitate a second. “I’ve got a kid here looking for more hours. I’ll bring him with me. You can use my car, but I’m coming with it.”

  I didn’t argue.

  But I should have.

  Chapter 32

  Carly drove, rocketing down I-94 in her tiny Mini Cooper convertible. As we raced along, I told her who Grady was, what he’d been doing, and the danger he might be in.

  It was a danger she might be in as well. Above all, I told her that I needed her to stay clear of this. No arguments.

  She promised to drop me at the pub, then circle the block. If I came out alone, she’d pick me up. If I was in trouble or waved her off, she’d bail out, and call 911. It wasn’t a brilliant plan, but in the army, troops bet their lives every day on these KISS tactics: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

  In the city, we drove slowly, past Riley’s Pub. I could see Grady sitting alone at a corner table, a beer in front of him. The restaurant was empty otherwise, despite it being lunch hour, which was odd.

  “Okay,” I said, “drop me at the corner and remember…?”

  “KISS,” Carly said. And we did. It was natural and wonderful and much too quick. In the next second, I was gone, and so was she.

  I pushed into the pub, and headed for Grady’s table. He looked on edge, and had a right to be. As I sat, he avoided my eyes.

  And in that instant, I knew.

  The question was, why had he sold me out? I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  Damn. Bruno Corzine came out of the kitchen. He was pulling Carly with him.

  Double damn.

  I rose to my feet. “Are you okay?”

  “She’s fine, Counselor,” Bruno said as the trio took a booth across the room. “And she’ll stay fine, if you play it smart. Sit your ass down.”

  I sat. I didn’t have a choice. There were four of them, and they were all armed. I wasn’t. And I couldn’t think of a single move that wouldn’t get us all killed.

  Not that it mattered.

  Because we were probably dead anyway.

  Chapter 33

  I turned to Bruno Corzine. Up close, he looked even rougher than I remembered. He had a brutal face and a trunk wide as a Mack truck. He was wearing a black silk running suit, though I doubted he was a jogger. Chances were, he was dressed for a funeral. Our funeral. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  “I’ll do whatever you say, but the lady’s got no part in this. She just gave me a lift.”

  “She’s safe, Counselor, as long as you behave. I only want to talk.”

  “Then talk. What do you want?”

  “To get you off my back,” he said bluntly. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  “What are you talking about—?”

  “My name isn’t Corzine,” he said, cutting me off. “It’s Benedetto. Detective Anthony Charles Benedetto from the Chicago Organized Crime Unit.”

  I just stared. “You’re a narc? Funny, because the last time we talked, you threatened to tear my arms off. And then my car blew up a few weeks later.”

  “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Right. Because you’re undercover. Am I supposed to just take your word for it?”

  The pub doors pushed open and we both swiveled in our seats.

  Lieutenant Bev Hilliard walked in wearing her black Donna Karan jacket and slacks.

  What the hell?

  “If you won’t take my word,” Bruno said, turning to face me again, “maybe you’ll take hers.”

  Chapter 34

  “Hey, Lieutenant,” Corzine said, as Hilliard pulled up a chair facing me. “Would you please tell this man who I am?”

  “He’s Detective Tony Benedetto, on temporary duty out of Chicago,” Hilliard said. “And that information stays in this room. Life or death.”

  I glanced from him to her and back again. She was dead serious. And that’s when I realized Tony Benedetto was telling the truth. Corzine was a made-up identity.

  “I’ve been infiltrating the Zeman crime family for months,” Benedetto said. “You know who they are?”

  “I was an ADA, of course I know who they are.”

  “Benedetto’s risen higher in the crew than any undercover ever has before,” Hilliard offered.

  “And it’s mostly thanks to you, Counselor,” Benedetto said.

  “To me?”

  “Terrible as it was, that car bombing made my reputation,” Benedetto said. “Zeman’s crew are mad dogs. I tangle with you, then somebody blows you to hell? They all think I did it. It put me in with that bunch instantly.”

  “Glad we could help out,” I said bitterly. “Remind me to mention it to Serena.”

  “I’m not trying to make light of what happened,” Benedetto said. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  I brushed him off and said, “Okay, so you’re a narc. Why are we here? What do you want from us?”

  “We need you and that investigator to back off before this gets out of control,” Hilliard said. “You blamed Corzine for Serena Rossi’s death. Clearly, he wasn’t involved, seeing as Corzine doesn’t really exist.”

  “Because if the Riviera crew knew a PI was tailing me inside the club?” Benedetto said. “Somebody could’ve ended up dead.”

  “Maybe somebody already has,” I said. “Any chance one of your new running buddies tried to do you a solid by lighting me up?”

  “I know for a fact none of the Zeman crew was involved,” Benedetto said flatly. “My unit’s got more lines on all of them, and besides, it wouldn’t make sense for them to stick out their necks like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jimmy Valentine is the one making trouble, not you. If the Zemans were going to cap somebody, it’d be Jimmy. And they will, if we don’t fix this. That’s why I’m here. We need your help with him.”

  “My help?” I echoed.

  “My guys have Jimmy stashed in a safe house in Dearborn. I can’t tell him who I really am, because I don’t trust him.”

  “I doubt he trusts you, either. He saw you beat a man to death.”

  Benedetto scoffed. “He dreamt up that cock and bull story to get himself a plea deal.”

  “Tony’s under surveillance twenty-four-seven for his own safety,” Hilliard added. “So we can confirm that it never happened.”

  “He’s still my client. If you want him to drop his story, what does he get in return?”

  “Are you serious?” Benedetto demanded. “He’s lying.”

  “You want something, so does he,” I said. “That’s why it’s called a plea bargain.”

  “How about this?” Hilliard cut in. “Valentine stands mute at his hearing, and we withdraw the gambling charges on a technicality. He walks with no time and no fine. Will that satisfy you?”

  I mulled that a moment, but it was only for show. I didn’t have any wiggle room.

  “Deal,” I nodded. Nobody offered to shake hands.

  Benedetto rose, glowering down at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m gonna remember this,” he said. “If I ever get jammed up and need a lawyer? I’ll give you a call.”

  “Sorry about the cloak and dagger,” Hilliard said, rising. “It was necessary. We had to hold your friend hostage because we thought you might destroy the operation otherwise. No offense, but you’ve been known to act rash. Just look at your past actions. You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I didn’t bother to answer. She followed Benedetto out, leaving me with Grady Baker.

  Carly had a terrified look on her face, but was taking deep breaths, trying to figure out what was going on.

  “I didn’t know they were cops, Brian,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrende
r. “They grabbed me, told me to call you and get you here. I was just trying to stay alive for five more minutes.”

  “I get it, Grady. No problem.”

  “Maybe I can make it up to you,” he said. “But I’ll let you see to your girlfriend first. She looks pretty pissed. I’ll be waiting outside.”

  Chapter 35

  After Carly and I talked, we went outside, where Grady was waiting for me. Carly was clearly upset, and was now sitting in her car, fuming.

  “Thanks for showing up tonight,” Grady said. “That could have gone badly if you hadn’t.”

  “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

  “You didn’t. You offered me a job, and I took it. I knew the Riviera Club was risky. I liked the challenge of being invisible in a roomful of goombahs.”

  “Except the law was there, too,” I said. “I should have guessed.”

  “You’re a lawyer, not a cop. After all you’ve been through? You may not be thinking all that straight.”

  “About what?”

  “The bombing.”

  “Five minutes ago, I would have sworn Corzine set it up. Now?” I shrugged.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Corzine’s new identity changes everything. For me, too.”

  “How so?”

  “Because you’re a client who just saved my ass, and who might be in the crosshairs of a former client. One we both worked for.”

  “Marvin Garner? What are you trying not to tell me?”

  “Just this. A few years ago, before you joined the firm? It was nearly bankrupt. Garner’s wife left him, then his mistress…”

  I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. Hilliard had crossed the street to Carly’s car, and the two of them were having a very heated discussion. Carly got so fired up, in fact, that she revved her Mini Cooper and roared off, leaving Hilliard staring blankly after her.

  Terrific.

  “…his longtime mistress,” Grady added pointedly.

  I turned back to him and suddenly realized what he was trying to tell me.

  “Serena?” I asked. “Are you saying Serena was Garner’s mistress?”

  “During his divorce, Garner hired me to dig up dirt on his wife. But watching her meant watching him, too, so…Yes, I found out that Garner and Serena Rossi had a longtime thing. I think Serena expected to become the new Mrs. Garner once the divorce was final. Instead, Garner found a new girl.”

  “Monique Kelso,” I said. “I heard gossip around the office about her, but never about Serena.”

  Grady nodded. “Monique was tight with the boss, and knew where the bodies were buried, as they say. Now I’m wondering if it’s actually true.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After the divorce, Garner’s business flatlined. Then he landed a new client, a Serb arms dealer named Luka Draculic. Overnight, his financial troubles vanished.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know, but it had to involve a lot more than legal representation. As part of the deal, one of Draculic’s men became Garner’s driver and bodyguard.”

  This Draculic guy sounded like trouble.

  “I ran a background check on him. In Eastern Europe, the guy’s the poster boy for organized crime. He has a record with Interpol that’s as long as your arm.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “Whatever Garner says and that’s why I quit taking jobs from the firm, not that there were many anyway. Luka handles Marvin’s security problems these days.”

  “By problems, do you mean the bombing?” I asked.

  Grady nodded.

  “But I’ve only met Garner twice. Why would he come after me?”

  “You’re asking me to guess, and I only deal in facts. I’ve told you every damn thing I know to be a fact. The rest, you’ll have to figure out on your own. Look, after getting jammed up between the law and the mob, I’m catching the first bus headed anywhere. Good luck, Brian. You’re gonna need it.”

  We shook hands and that was it. Grady vanished around a corner, the invisible man again.

  Across the street, Hilliard was leaning against an unmarked gray sedan with her arms folded. Waiting.

  “Need a lift?” she asked.

  Damned right I did.

  Chapter 36

  Neither of us spoke for the first few miles of the drive. Hilliard was deep in thought and I was steaming.

  “You knew about Benedetto all along,” I said.

  “I warned you to stay away from him. I did everything I could.”

  “You could have tried telling me the truth.”

  “That wasn’t an option, and you know it. I had to do everything I could to protect the identity of the undercover cop. I only told you because I no longer had a choice.”

  When I didn’t answer, she added, “We took a big gamble here too, you know. We exposed you to an undercover cop in a very dangerous, unstable crime op. Do you know how risky that was? But we wanted to give you full transparency to the situation so you’d believe us. I’d expect you to appreciate that.”

  She was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  “What did you say to Carly?”

  “I told her to keep her mouth shut about this, on pain of death or incarceration. Sorry about that. Is she your girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. Or at least she is for now.”

  “She’s pretty mad at both of us,” Hilliard said. “But mostly you.”

  “She has a right to be.”

  “What did Grady tell you?”

  “Good-bye. He’s blowing town to get clear of this case.”

  “There is no case, Brian. Since Corzine isn’t a real gangster, you’re at square one. Exactly where I’ve been all along. Now that I’ve shared some very dangerous information with you…”

  “Only to protect your undercover.”

  “Even so, we’ve trusted you with the truth. Maybe it’s time you trusted us.”

  I chewed on that, but not for long. I hadn’t been successful on my own.

  “Grady says that before she met me, Serena Rossi was Marvin Garner’s longtime mistress.”

  She glanced at me. “That probably wasn’t fun to hear.”

  “It wasn’t all that earthshaking, either. Serena was a few years older than I am, and we didn’t meet in a nunnery.”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “At Garner and Mackey. I was an ADA and she was a paralegal, and we worked some cases together. We hit it off. Maybe a bit too quickly.”

  “Because she was on the rebound?”

  “Possibly. Things happened awfully fast, and in hindsight, Serena pushed every decision we made. But I don’t see what that has to do with the car bomb.”

  “Maybe Garner was jealous.”

  “Of what? He already had a new, younger girlfriend. Besides, he was the opposite of vindictive. He didn’t fire Serena, he promoted her, and hired her new boyfriend. I started working there, didn’t I?”

  Hilliard nods. “He sounds like a prince. I’ve got an ex-husband. Our breakup was civil, but I can’t see him hiring my significant other. I guess he’s not as nice as your ex-boss.”

  “I’m not that nice, either,” I conceded. Then I blinked, realizing what I’d just said.

  Hilliard caught my expression. “What?”

  “The thing is, Garner’s kind of a jerk. After the bombing, he made a special trip to the hospital to fire me. Serena’s dead, I’m wounded, and Marvin personally handed me a pink slip.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “He implied that I was to blame for her death by saying that one of my riffraff clients probably tried to take me out. He said that if Serena hadn’t been involved with me, she’d still be breathing.”

  “Any chance he was right?”

  “I thought so at the time, because I was sure Corzine was behind it. But I’ve sorted through my other cases, and other than Sherry Molinere’s stalker husband, I can’t come up with a single client who’d want to punch me out, let alone
blow me up. It could be someone else after all. I’m just lucky they missed.”

  Hilliard fell silent, mulling something over.

  “What if…?” She broke off, frowning, then glanced at me sharply. “What if they didn’t miss?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, most of your clients, no offense, really are—”

  “Low rent? I’m aware. Some of my cases are even pro bono.”

  “But a bombing isn’t a low-rent enterprise. The device that erased your car had to have been expensive.”

  I swung my head to the side, glaring at her. She hadn’t told me that.

  “The thing is,” she went on quickly, before I could gripe, “people get murdered in Detroit literally every day. It’s one of the most violent cities in the country. But bombs don’t go off every day. Most victims are shot, stabbed, or bludgeoned. If you want to kill somebody in Motown, you walk up to ’em on the street, cap ’em, and keep right on going. Detroiters don’t call 911, they call Uber. They get in and out, as fast as they can.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “A bomb doesn’t just kill someone. It erases them. And also erases any…evidence they might be holding. Evidence that might make you hire an old lover’s new boyfriend, for instance.”

  I swiveled in my seat, staring at her.

  “You’re saying Serena was actually the target?”

  “I’m not saying anything. I’m thinking out loud. We checked her background, as part of the investigation. She did well for herself as a paralegal, but she lived well above her means. Expensive apartment, new car. At the time, I didn’t think it was relevant, but now—”

  She broke off when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then pressed it to her ear. “Chief Paquette? What can I do for you? Yes. Brian’s with me now.”

  She switched her phone to Speaker.

  “One of my guys drove past your cottage an hour ago,” the chief said. “He spotted Corporal Molinere’s car hidden in the brush behind the house.”

  “That’s right near the spot where he pulled me over,” I said. “He’s probably staking out my place, looking for his wife, but she isn’t there.”