“I understand.”
“Did Anka have the wrong sorts of friends? Had she discovered boys?” he asked.
“I could not say. She refused to discuss her problems with us. A pity, too. Had she continued her behavior, we would have had to dismiss her. In any case, with all the social media and networking…it’s quite impossible for us to keep track of what our girls get into.”
There wasn’t anything left for Dr. Chatsworth to say. She showed him Anka’s room. It had posters of rock and movie stars. A jewelry box. A dresser, a half-empty closet. Some of her photos and paintings on the walls. Gulliver could feel her presence. The headmistress introduced Gulliver to Anka’s suitemates, some friends. Her teachers, the school psychologist. All told a similar story. That something must have happened to Anka over the summer. That she came back to school a very different girl than the one who had left in June.
“She was pissed about something,” one suitemate said.
“And hurt bad,” said another.
The school shrink agreed. “Angry, yes, but I think more wounded than angry.”
Gulliver got pretty much the same story from everyone. Anka had gone to all of her classes on Thursday. She had skipped dinner and gone to bed around eleven. She didn’t attend her first two classes the next day. So the school had sent someone to check on her. By then she was gone. No note. But no sign of a struggle either. She had apparently just left at some point during the night. They had contacted Nina immediately. She had told them not to call the police. That it was a family matter and that she would see to it.
Gulliver had done this many times before. He knew that everyone lies a little bit. He knew Anka’s friends had more to say. They just hadn’t wanted to say it in front of Dr. Chatsworth. Teenagers liked to talk to Gulliver. They felt on the inside the way he looked on the outside. He thought that maybe even the school shrink had wanted to say more than she dared to in front of her boss. He knew how to handle that too. He had his ways. He’d be back if he needed to. Before leaving, he asked Dr. Chatsworth to let him see Anka’s room one last time. The headmistress didn’t see the point, but Gulliver didn’t care.
He stood at the center of his daughter’s room. He took slow, deep breaths, trying to see things that hadn’t been obvious to him earlier. This was a trick his karate teacher had shown him. It was like going into a trance that let him focus his attention. He moved his gaze from one part of the room to another. His eyes kept returning to Anka’s closet and the jewelry box on her dresser. He knew that what kids left behind could be as important as what they took. If he had had the time, Gulliver would have listed each item in the closet and the jewelry box. Instead, he took a photo of the things hanging in Anka’s closet. He dumped the contents of the jewelry box in his jacket pockets. Was this strictly legal? No, but this was his daughter who was missing. And he meant to find her no matter what.
“Will you be returning to the campus, Mr. Dowd?” Dr. Chatsworth asked. “Having someone like you about is very upsetting to the girls.”
“Someone like me?”
“An investigator,” she said. But Gulliver knew that was only half true.
He smiled and answered. Also with a half-truth. “No, I don’t think I’ll be back.”
Gulliver was right. Everyone lies a little bit. Him too.
“Mr. Dowd, please tell Anka’s mother not to worry. Her daughter’s not the first girl to try to run away from her problems. Sadly, the problems stay with them. When Anka realizes this, she’ll turn up. They always do.”
Gulliver didn’t like this woman’s smugness. He never liked people who thought they had all the answers. “What makes you certain Anka ran away?”
Dr. Chatsworth looked at Gulliver as if he was a fool. “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here. To find out.”
“I hope you are not implying that we are the cause for what has taken place.”
“Aren’t you?” He kept at her. “Anka was under your care, in your school.”
Now Dr. Cissy Fenn Chatsworth’s papery skin turned bright red. Her mouth moved, but no words came out.
Gulliver enjoyed watching the old biddy. But he had to get going. “Good day, Dr. Chatsworth. A pleasure.”
With that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the Escalade.
CHAPTER SIX
Questions swirled in Gulliver’s head as Ahmed drove back to the city. Did Anka just pick up and go? He didn’t want to admit it. But it did look like Anka had run away. The question was, why? Was it because of something that had happened over the summer break? If so, what?
Gulliver laughed to himself. He’d been a father for less than twenty-four hours. And he was already confused and angry. He guessed that made him like most fathers of teenage girls. He could picture himself asking Anka’s prom date into his office. Cleaning his gun in front of the kid. Be nice to my little girl or else. He laughed again. Gulliver had always heard that parenthood changes you. Now he knew it was true.
“What’s so funny, little man?” Ahmed asked. Gulliver didn’t mind Ahmed calling him that as long as it wasn’t in front of other people.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” Gulliver hadn’t told Ahmed that he was Anka’s father. He wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet. Things were already complicated enough. When he found Anka, he would shout his pride to the world. But that was for later. He asked Ahmed, “What did security tell you?”
“Most of them told me nothing. But there’s always an unhappy one in the bunch.”
“And you found him?”
Ahmed nodded. “I always do.”
“So far you’re batting a thousand. Tell me.”
“Skinny white boy named Henry. Washed out of some punkass Putnam County police department. He beat a guy up at a traffic stop. Henry’s got a chip on his shoulder bigger than his shoulder. Don’t like taking orders from people.”
Gulliver was curious. “What did he say?”
“Said this Anka girl caught everybody’s eye. If you know what I’m sayin’. Hot, but a good girl. No trouble. Henry said he thought she had a boyfriend at Bloomfield Prep. A mile or two away from Wilton.”
Gulliver said, “I figured she must’ve had a boyfriend. So there’s nothing there.”
“I didn’t say that. Did I say that? Seems a few of the girls reported seeing an older man hangin’ around just outside the campus. He had cameras and such. Henry saw the man. Tried to chase him off. The older man wouldn’t go. He said he was on public land. Said he was bird-watchin’. Henry thinks he was bird-watchin’, all right. That bird was named Anka Morton. Guy had a camera on a tripod. Henry looked through it. It was aimed at Anka’s dorm-room window.”
“Was it reported to the local cops?” Gulliver asked.
“It was. But like the guy said, he was on public land.”
“Did Henry get the man’s name?”
“Nah. Guy refused to give it. There wasn’t nothin’ Henry could do about that.”
“Maybe it was nothing.” Gulliver didn’t really believe what he had just said.
Ahmed shook his head. “That’s what Henry thought too. Then he was in town one day when he was off duty. He saw that guy comin’ out of the local coffee shop. When Henry went inside, Anka was sittin’ at a table for two. There was a wrapped-up gift box in a shopping bag next to the table. The girl was, like, all smiley and shit.”
“Maybe Henry was reading too much into it, Ahmed. Maybe they both just happened to be there at the same time.”
“Sorry, little man, but no. Coffee shop was empty ’cept for Anka. The only table in use was that two-top. He had definitely been at that table with her. I’m thinkin’ he’s a predator. You know. Chats her up online and then starts bringin’ her gifts and all. Next time maybe they ain’t meetin’ at no coffee shop, but at the local no-tell motel.”
“Could be. Or maybe he was setting her up for something else.”
Ahmed didn’t get it. “Somethin’ e
lse. Like what?”
“Never mind that. Did Henry tell you what the guy looked like?”
“White, thirty-five or forty. About six foot tall, two hundred pounds. Light brown hair. Blue eyes.”
“Okay,” Gulliver said. “Head to Staten Island.”
“Staten Island! What’s in Staten Island besides that big closed-down garbage dump?”
“Joey Vespucci.”
“You crazy, Gulliver? That man ain’t gonna talk to you.”
“How much money did it take to get Henry to talk to you?”
“A hundred bucks,” Ahmed said. “Why?”
“Double or nothing. If Joey Dollar Menu will see me, you lose the hundred. If the man refuses, you get the hundred back plus another hundred on top.”
Ahmed removed his right hand from the steering wheel. He offered it to Gulliver. “It’s a bet.”
Gulliver shook it. “Staten Island, here we come.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
For years the Todt Hill area of Staten Island had been a favorite of the mob. Gulliver wondered if the mob boys knew that todt meant dead in Dutch. He doubted it. The wiseguys Gulliver knew weren’t keen on learning Dutch. Or the deeper meanings of things. The Mafia types he met were focused on three things. Making money. Staying out of prison. And staying alive. Since the mid-1980s, all of those things were harder to do. The Mafia was still alive and kicking. Just not as alive or as kicking as it once had been. The code of silence that had kept the big bosses out of the law’s reach was a thing of the past.
The only big boss left with a high profile was Joey Vespucci. The other bosses were like ghosts. You didn’t see their names in the papers. You didn’t see them on TV. They lived quietly, in tasteful houses far away from the old neighborhoods.
That wasn’t Joey Vespucci’s way. He made sure the world knew who he was. He lived in a huge house. It was much bigger than the rest of the houses on his street. Not only was his home too large, it was ugly. It looked like a mix between a stucco castle, a fast-food restaurant and a strip club. The lawn was dotted with concrete statues of busty nude women, forest creatures and religious icons. Gulliver doubted Vespucci could be any more tasteless if he tried.
Ahmed parked around the corner. They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. But good luck with that. A well-muscled black man and a white dwarf rolling up to a front gate in a Cadillac Escalade get noticed. Gulliver walked around the corner. He walked right up to Joey’s wrought-iron gate and pressed the buzzer on the intercom. He waved at the camera perched on one of the stone gateposts.
“Go away, kid. We ain’t buying no candy for your team,” a gravelly voice ordered.
“Listen, asshole, I’m not a kid. The name’s Dowd, and I’m here to see Mr. Vespucci.”
There was a burst of laughter. Then, “Mr. Vespucci don’t wanna see you. He don’t like circus freaks. They make him all hinky. Now get the fuck outta here before I come out there and squish ya.”
“Tell Mr. Vespucci I’m here about Nina Morton. He can call her to check. I’ll wait.”
But he didn’t have to wait. There was a buzz. The gate clicked open. It swung back. Gulliver stepped through. The gate snapped shut behind him. He waddled up the long walkway to the house. A barrel-chested man with no neck and a round face stepped out onto the porch. Gulliver could see the holster bulge in the guy’s ill-fitting but expensive suit jacket. Wearing a gun doesn’t make a guy tough. The bulge just made it easier to take his weapon away from him. Gulliver was carrying a 9mm SIG Sauer, but no one would know it to look at him. He expected to get patted down. It didn’t happen. Mr. No Neck just let him walk by.
“Walk straight ahead into the study,” No Neck ordered.
Gulliver couldn’t resist asking, “What’s Mr. Vespucci studying in there?”
“Shut up, bug, and walk.”
Sitting behind a large, fancy desk was Joey Vespucci. Gulliver knew he would have to gain Joey’s respect to get his attention. That wasn’t always easy to do. Some people were hard to convince. With them, it could take a few meetings. Gulliver didn’t have the luxury of time. Good thing Mr. No Neck was about to let Gulliver prove himself.
“You should be more careful about who you let guard your life,” Gulliver said to Joey before the mob boss could speak. “This clown here will get you killed someday.”
No Neck laughed. “Look who’s calling who a clown.”
That was Gulliver’s cue. He dropped to his knee. He reached under his jacket and spun. Before either Vespucci or his goon could react, Gulliver was pointing his 9mm at Joey’s head.
“What the fuck!” Mr. No Neck shouted, loudly enough to draw attention.
They heard pounding footsteps down the hallway. Gulliver could have blown Joey’s head off and shot No Neck in the liver. He could have been ready to wipe out anyone coming through the study door. Instead, Gulliver dropped the clip out of the gun’s handle. He ejected the bullet in the chamber and set the 9mm on Joey’s desk. He held his hands over his head. But he knew this wasn’t over. These weren’t the type of men to laugh off this kind of thing.
No Neck charged. Gulliver waited until the big man was almost on him. Then he stepped to his left and raised his right leg. He threw a chopping kick at the goon’s right knee. No Neck crumpled to the carpeting. He howled in pain. Gulliver clamped his hand around the goon’s right thumb and locked it. He had been amazed at this when he learned the technique. Control your enemy’s thumb and you control your enemy, his karate teacher had said. For now Gulliver only wanted to impress his enemy’s boss. He twisted No Neck’s arm behind him. He took No Neck’s gun and held his knife to his throat.
Gulliver had proved his point. He dropped the knife, let go of the goon and again raised his arms.
Vespucci watched it all with a semi-amused scowl on his face.
“Like I said, Mr. Vespucci, you ought to be more careful.”
“Get outta here, you moron,” Vespucci shouted at Mr. No Neck. “Take the little man’s weapons and give ’em back when he leaves.”
No Neck wasn’t pleased. But he followed his master’s orders like a good dog.
“Okay, little man, you got my attention,” Vespucci said. “What do you want with it?”
“First thing I want is for you to not call me little man.”
Vespucci’s lip started to curl in an angry sneer. He wasn’t used to people correcting him. He wasn’t used to someone like Gulliver doing anything but kissing his ass. But then the sneer vanished. Vespucci said, “You got some balls on you, little—sorry. You got some balls on you, Dowd. I respect that.”
Gulliver bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, Mr. Vespucci.”
“So, you know Nina, huh?”
Gulliver smiled. “Since we were kids in Lake Ronkonkoma on Long Island, yeah.”
“Then maybe you can talk some sense into her, Dowd. She’s taking some chances she shouldn’t be taking.”
“Funny thing. I think she hoped I could talk some sense into you.”
Vespucci was a slender, handsome man in his early sixties, with a sharp jawline and graying hair. He shook his head in disbelief. His brown eyes were on fire. It was one thing for this dwarf to have balls. It was something else for him to give Vespucci trouble. He stood up and came around the big desk.
“What sort of sense does Nina want you to talk into me?” he asked in a threatening voice.
“Her sixteen-year-old daughter’s missing. Nina thinks you might have her.”
“Why’s she think that?”
Gulliver said, “Because you threatened her when she told you she didn’t want to front for you anymore.”
Vespucci’s body stiffened. As smoothly as a cat, he grabbed some framed photos from the fireplace mantel. “See these here?” he barked, shoving the frames at Gulliver. “These are my daughters and my grandkids. You think I would take Nina’s kid just because she’s pissing me off ?”
“I know only what I read in the papers, Mr. Vespucci. I know you’ve h
ad people killed. And to get to where you are, I know you’ve killed people yourself.”
“You take some chances, Dowd. Some big chances. Talking to me like that in my house.”
“Maybe, Mr. Vespucci. I didn’t survive this long by being afraid. I’m here because Nina’s daughter is my daughter too. So I’ll risk whatever I have to find her. I didn’t find out she was my kid until last night. I want to know her more than I have ever wanted anything. For me, that’s saying a lot. I think maybe you can understand.” Gulliver held Vespucci’s photos out to him. “If your girls were in danger, wouldn’t you take risks?”
“Okay, I understand now.” Vespucci replaced the pictures on the mantel. “But I ain’t got the kid. I swear on the life of my own girls and grandkids. You gotta believe I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you threatened Nina that you would, Mr. Vespucci.”
“I did, but that’s all it was. Nina’s been around long enough to know how this stuff works. You don’t pull out on me when it suits you. She knew that going in. Still, I wouldn’t hurt her kid. I wouldn’t hurt nobody’s kid. She knows that. I’m surprised she sent you here. I’m surprised by a lot of things.”
Gulliver understood. “Nina and I dated for around two months when we were seniors in high school. Then she broke up with me on graduation day. She left for the University of Colorado. I didn’t see her again until last night.”
“That’s when she told you about the girl,” Joey said.
“Yeah. I’m a licensed PI. I do a lot of missing-kids work.”
“You sure as shit can handle yourself. I’ll give you that, Dowd. I’ve seen Tony beat the crap out of guys a foot taller than him. You made him look silly. But I don’t have the girl.” Vespucci crossed his heart. “If you need some info you can’t get elsewhere, just let me know. I’ll get it for you. We understand each other?” Vespucci said. He put out his right hand.
Gulliver shook it. “I understand. I may take you up on it.”
“Look, Dowd, I got a heart. I just can’t afford to let anyone know it. I’m going to do something now that I’m probably going to regret. But hey, sometimes a little compassion is a good thing. Right?”
Dirty Work (Rapid Reads) Page 3
