by Stuart Woods
As soon as Rick was gone, Teddy picked up the phone and called Mike Freeman. “Mike?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for your man. I only just realized there might be a need myself.”
“Don’t thank me. It was Peter’s idea.”
“So I understand. You didn’t mention to him our previous employment?”
“I’m insulted you have to ask.”
“Hey, my leg’s in traction and I’m doped up on painkillers. I see potential dangers everywhere.”
“Well, you can stop worrying. I’ve got men on you around the clock until Peter tells me to stop. When he does, I’ll check with you before I pull my team, just so you’ll know.”
“From you I would expect no less. Listen, I’m in a bit of a situation here, and I’m going to need to get myself out.”
“How can I help?”
“I don’t want to shock your man, and I don’t want to get into an argument with him either. I need to do what I need to do, and I don’t need a well-meaning agent wrestling me back into bed. I need him to do what I tell him without checking with you, even if what I’m doing may seem a trifle unorthodox.”
“I’ll read him the riot act.”
“Want me to put him on the phone? He’s right outside the door.”
“That won’t work. My men are well trained. I’ll call him from my phone so he knows for certain it’s me.”
Teddy got off the phone. Almost immediately he heard his bodyguard’s cell phone ring in the hall. Mike Freeman would be explaining the facts of life. The agent might not like it, but he’d have to go along. Teddy would be free to put his plan in motion.
He just needed a plan.
* * *
—
Slythe was hiding out in a stall in the men’s room. He’d gotten to room 608 only to find another man in scrubs standing by the bed. He’d walked right on by and searched the floor until he found a men’s room where he could hole up and wait.
He waited ten minutes, then came out of the stall and retraced his steps to the room.
Now a man in a suit and tie was sitting in a chair outside the door, either a plainclothes cop or a hired security guard. Whichever he was, he put the kibosh on Slythe’s plan. The risks of taking out a guard were just too great. He’d give up for now—Barnett was no threat to anyone at the moment.
He kept walking and ducked into the supply closet again. He took his razor out of the pocket, pulled off his scrubs, and added them to the pile in the hamper. He dressed quickly and left.
A nurse caught him coming out the door. “Hey. You’re not allowed in there.”
Slythe grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought it was the men’s room,” he said, and walked off.
The nurse didn’t press the issue. Slythe took the elevator down to the lobby, left the hospital, and hailed a cab to the airport.
88
Teddy called Herbie Fisher at Woodman & Weld. He waited until he was alone to do it. Aside from not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation, Herbie knew him as Billy Barnett, not Mark Weldon, and it was Weldon who was checked into the hospital.
Once a protégé of Stone Barrington, Herbie was now a senior partner at Woodman & Weld, and one of their most respected lawyers. Though he usually handled major cases, Herbie could always be counted on to do legal favors for friends.
Herbie was glad to hear from him. “Billy, what’s up? I hear you’re making a movie.”
“Boy, are you behind on the news.”
Teddy caught him up on the situation with Sammy Candelosi and Pete Genaro, and how he’d ended up in the hospital. It seemed urgent enough, even leaving out Tessa’s problems and the whole corporate takeover.
Herbie was shocked. “Someone tried to kill you? That’s terrible. Is there anything I can do?”
“Get me out of here.”
* * *
—
Teddy’s doctor was horrified. “You can’t check out.”
“Actually, I can,” Teddy said. “I just have to sign a waiver that I am checking out against medical advice. Then the hospital’s covered, and they’re happy to get the bed. I have an attorney standing by, if you need it explained to you.”
“Your leg’s in traction.”
“Only because you put it there. Take it out of traction, and I’ll be on my way.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“It’s all right, I will.” Teddy unhooked the cable holding up his leg. “Ta-da! Now, if you’ll just have a nurse bring a wheelchair, I’m good to go.”
It wasn’t quite as easy as that, but at least Teddy didn’t have to resort to a legal injunction. Two hours later a nurse wheeled him out the emergency room exit where Rick was waiting with a car.
Teddy slid into the backseat, and Rick took off.
“Did you get the items I requested?”
Rick jerked his thumb. “It’s all in the trunk. Scalpel, surgical scissors, surgical saw, needle and surgical thread, Ace bandages, adhesive tape, antibiotic ointment, a pair of crutches, and a wheelchair.”
“No cookies?”
“I could arrange for a grocery delivery. You’re not getting shot while I’m shopping.”
“I was kidding.”
“Oh,” Rick said. Clearly joking about such a serious subject was not in his nature.
The super at Mark Weldon’s apartment building was out front when Rick pulled up. He raised his eyebrows when Teddy emerged on crutches. “Whoa. What happened to you?”
“I had an accident on the set.”
His eyes widened. “Are you the stuntman who fell?”
“My fame precedes me.”
“No, really. You fell from the fifth floor?”
“The fall was what we were filming. There was a landing pad staged below.”
“Looks like you missed.”
“This is nothing,” Teddy said, referring to the crutches. “Tomorrow I’ll be back on the set.”
The super looked doubtful.
Rick helped Teddy up the stairs to his apartment. “You want me to leave the wheelchair in the car?” Rick asked. “It’s going to be a bitch getting it up and down the stairs.”
“I’m going to leave you in the car, too,” Teddy said. “Park down the street where you can watch the door. Call me on the phone if you see anyone suspicious trying to get in.”
“I could sit by the door.”
“You’re not an aide, you’re a bodyguard. You can’t sit outside the door, and inside you’ll drive me nuts. Go set up a good surveillance point. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
That wasn’t the way Rick would have played it, but Mike’s instructions had been explicit.
As soon as Rick was gone, Teddy locked the door behind him. He took out his gun and set it on the table for easy access.
Then he got down to work.
89
Teddy couldn’t have a cast on for what he intended to do. He took the cast off and examined the leg. The doctor had done a good job of setting it. With the cast on, it would heal rather quickly. With the cast off, it would be all right if he didn’t put any pressure on it.
Teddy had to put pressure on it.
Teddy covered the wound with sterile pads, and wrapped them in adhesive tape. He bracketed the broken area with wooden splints. They wouldn’t hold as well as the cast, but they would be better than nothing. He taped them tight, making the splint as thin as possible.
He wrapped the leg in Ace bandages, so tight as to cut off the circulation. He was risking gangrene, but it couldn’t be helped. He had two criteria: he couldn’t stagger, and he couldn’t fall down.
Teddy pulled on a pair of suit pants. The bottom of the leg looked slightly bulky, but it would have to do.
Teddy limped into the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. It was shocking. Hi
s mummy costume was so extensive he could have passed for the Invisible Man. As in that movie, he could imagine unwinding the bandage and finding nothing there.
Teddy cut through the bandage with surgical scissors. It unwound easily, a good sign. His face wasn’t bad. He had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that makeup wouldn’t hide. His forehead was still gashed and swollen, but it was near the hairline where it could be covered with a wig.
And he wasn’t suffering the effects of a concussion. He staggered a little when he let go of the sink, but that wasn’t from dizziness, that was from the broken leg.
He was good to go.
* * *
—
In his long years of equipping CIA operatives for missions, Teddy had drilled one idea into their heads: It is inadvisable to meet the same person under two separate identities. No matter how good you are, or think you are, there is always something that will trip you up. Some small characteristic that you don’t even realize you have, but which triggers a flash of doubt in the person you are attempting to fool. It is far better to send a second agent, even one not as proficient as you might think you are.
Teddy was not one to disregard his own advice, but he had no other agent, and he needed to call on Mason Kimble and Gerard Cardigan again. He had met them as a dirty old man, eager to hang out with movie types. He needed to get as far away from that image as possible, particularly as his pitch this time would be the same—a desire to invest in movies. To pull it off, Teddy went younger and Italian. Carlo Verdi had thick black hair threatening to creep down his face as sideburns. He put on a flashy suit, and transformed himself into a New Jersey wiseguy.
Once again, Teddy had no problem getting into Star Pictures. They had no secretary, so they had to answer the door.
Gerard Cardigan opened it.
“Mason Kimble?” Teddy said.
“Gerard Cardigan. How can we help you?”
Teddy jerked his thumb in Mason’s direction. “That Mr. Kimble?” He stepped around Gerard, grabbed Mason’s hand, and pumped it up and down. “Mr. Kimble, Carlo Verdi. I’m here on behalf of Sammy Candelosi.” When Mason showed no sign of recognition, Teddy frowned and said, “You are familiar with Sammy Candelosi?”
Mason and Gerard looked at each other.
“No, we are not,” Mason said.
“Well, I won’t tell him. He might take it as a slight. It is not wise to offend Sammy Candelosi. Particularly when you are thinking of becoming his partner.”
Mason and Gerard looked at each other again.
“Excuse me,” Mason said. “What gave you the idea we are thinking of making Sammy Candelosi our partner?”
“The fact that you took this meeting.”
“We took this meeting because you walked in off the street and demanded it.”
“My point exactly. If Sammy Candelosi wants something, he gets it. He wanted this meeting, therefore he got it. In the future, you will find it better not to second-guess Sammy, but to figure out what he wants and go along with that.”
“Now, see here—” Mason said.
Carlo Verdi put up his hand. “You’re offended. It was not my intention to give offense. It would be very unfortunate for all involved, and for the two of you in particular. Please understand Sammy is not trying to muscle in here. Sammy is not trying to take over your business. Sammy is not trying to push you around. Sammy merely wishes to make money. He is a businessman. Making money is first and foremost his goal.
“Keeping money is his second goal. That is where so many people fall down. They make money, and, poof, it is gone. That is particularly true of a person involved in the casino business, as Sammy Candelosi happens to be. That is why he would like to diversify. He would like to take some of his money out of gambling and invest it in motion pictures.”
Mason blinked. “He wants to invest in our movies?”
“I thought I made that clear. It so happens that Sammy needs to invest a certain amount of his money in a legitimate business venture. Motion pictures is not only legitimate, it is a volatile industry with potential losses and gains in the millions. Our bookkeeper would love to have a look.”
Gerard stuck his chin forward. “Why us? This is a town with hundreds of movie companies. What makes ours attractive?”
“As Star Pictures, you’re not. But it has come to Sammy’s attention that there is an excellent chance Star Pictures will be merging with a major studio in the near future.”
“Where did you hear that?” Gerard said.
“Sammy hears everything. If you don’t want Sammy to hear something, don’t do it.”
“What did Sammy hear?”
“Sammy heard Centurion Studios might be ripe for the taking. Under the circumstances, your production company might seem like a good investment, particularly if one were to get in on the ground floor.
“At any rate, Sammy would like to make you a proposal. He would like to make it to you in person. He will not come to you. You will come to him. Sammy will be happy to comp you at his casino, but he will have no contact with you there, as he is not eager to let the details of his business affairs leak out. He will meet you at a restaurant of his own choosing, away from the hotel, with a private room where you can talk business.”
Mason and Gerard looked at each other.
Mason said, “Just for the sake of argument, how much is Sammy considering investing?”
Teddy shrugged and spread his hands. “Over a long period of time, we’re talking a considerable amount of money. But as an initial investment, somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred million dollars.”
Mason Kimble managed not to seem too eager. It took an effort.
He nodded. “That’s something we could consider.”
90
Teddy took a taxi back to his apartment. The cell phone rang on his way up the walk. He managed not to react until he was safely in the front door, out of sight of Mike Freeman’s agent. He pulled the phone out of his pocket. “Yeah?”
“A man in a cab just pulled up in front of the building. He looks like he could have mob connections.”
“You ever see him before?”
“Yes. He came out of your building about an hour ago.”
“Curly dark hair, sideburns, cheap-looking suit?”
“That’s him.”
“It’s okay. He lives here. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Teddy limped up the stairs to his apartment and collapsed on the bed. He allowed himself five minutes to catch his breath. Then he sat up, pulled off his Carlo Verdi wig, and stripped off his wiseguy clothes.
His leg didn’t look as bad as it felt. There was nothing to indicate it was anything worse than a bad sprain. Bad enough to require three Ace bandages, but even so.
Teddy unwound the Ace bandages and took off the splint. As expected, blood had seeped through the adhesive-taped bandage underneath. Teddy cut it off with surgical scissors.
The wound was ugly. He cleaned it up and rebandaged it. He put the splint back on and taped it tight. It hurt like hell. The doctor had given him painkillers, but he hadn’t taken them. He needed to be alert, even if all he was going to do was sleep. Mike Freeman’s men were good, but they weren’t infallible. Still, he was glad to have one there.
Teddy flung himself down on the bed and was almost instantly asleep.
* * *
—
At seven in the morning Teddy woke. First order of business was to check the wound. It hadn’t seeped much during the night. He changed the bandage again and rebound the leg.
Then he put the cast back on. That was harder. He taped it up on the open side and reinforced it with surgical thread.
Teddy called Sammy Candelosi’s hotel and casino and gave the name Carlo Verdi. He’d been careful to use an alias for whom he had credit cards. “I’d like to book a two-bedroom suite under
the name Mason Kimble and Gerard Cardigan. Their expenses are being comped, including chips if they wish to gamble. If they try to pay for anything, tell them it’s been taken care of.”
“Yes, Mr. Verdi.”
“I’m not sure if they’re checking in tonight or tomorrow, but book the room starting today.”
“Yes, of course.”
Teddy hung up and finished working on his cast. It didn’t look bad. He tried walking on his crutches with it. It didn’t fall off, which was all he’d hoped for. It wasn’t doing a thing to support his leg.
He got a pair of pants from the closet, took the surgical scissors, and slit the outside of the left leg from the cuff all the way up well past the knee. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the pants on over the cast. They fit fine, and hid the slit in the cast, which was on the inside of the leg. He now looked like exactly what he was: an orthopedic patient with a broken leg.
Teddy transformed himself back into Billy Barnett. He put on a clean shirt, and the jacket that went with the pants. He put on his right shoe and sock. His left foot he left bare.
Teddy unlocked the padlock on his closet and took out some equipment, mostly small and portable due to his situation. He chose a couple of handguns, a shoulder holster, a few IDs, credentials and credit cards, and a small makeup kit to approximate the ones chosen. He put them all in an inconspicuous bag such as a tradesman might carry.
As an afterthought, he threw in the Ace Vargas gun that had been sent to Tessa. With luck, he might have use for it.
When he was done, he locked the closet. He took another small bag, filled it with medical equipment, and added clean socks, underwear, and toiletries.
When he was ready he requested an Uber. The app told him a cab was five minutes away.
Teddy got on the crutches and managed to balance the bags. He gritted his teeth and hobbled to the door.
Paco came out of his apartment. He was startled to see another man on crutches coming down the stairs.
