Noble Chase: A Novel

by Michael Rudolph

  “Today’s Sunday. I can’t make it today. My mother’s in town. What’s the matter?”

  “I got a call from Marcie this morning. My apartment in Providence was trashed last night. I think it has something to do with my father’s death.”

  The impact of that revelation cleared her head. “What time is it?” she asked, sitting up and putting her feet down on the Persian rug under the couch.

  “It’s eight.”

  “Jesus, Bob. Mom and I stayed up talking and drinking twenty-five-year-old brandy until three thirty a.m.”

  “Come on. The day’s half over.”

  “Okay, tell you what. Meet me in an hour and a half at La Hosteria over on Sixty-fourth and Third. They open early on weekends. You can meet my mother and buy us breakfast.”

  “See you at nine thirty.”

  She hung up the phone and tiptoed into the bedroom, where her mother was still asleep, and kissed her on the cheek. “Morning, Mom,” she said in a stage whisper.

  “Hi, darling. What’s up?” Andi groaned without opening an eye.

  “C’mon. Get up. We’re going out for breakfast.”

  “Wrong turkey. You’re going out for breakfast. I’m going back to sleep. I didn’t get off watch until nearly four a.m.”

  “Don’t be so nautical. Get up. You’re going to meet Bob.”

  That offer got her immediate attention. She sat up in bed, whimpered once pathetically, and put her head back on the pillow. “I can’t believe you made me pour that last shot of brandy over the Häagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream.”

  “Getting drunk and fat at the same time is a nirvana few are privileged to attain. I’m taking a shower.”

  “Did you make coffee?” Andi asked.

  “The pot’s on the kitchen counter.”

  Beth was in and out of the shower in a flash. She continued to think about the break-ins while getting dressed. By nine twenty a.m., she was putting on her parka. Her mother was already dressed and in the living room, browsing through the Sunday New York Times.

  They left the building and walked briskly over to the restaurant. Bob was there when they arrived, waiting in a corner booth. He got up to greet Andi politely with a smile and an awkward kiss on the cheek, uncertain how to act when meeting her for the first time. His kiss on the lips for Beth was tentative at first, but she responded warmly, and they lingered in each other’s embrace, like new lovers everywhere.

  It was early, so the neighborhood restaurant was not crowded. Beth sat next to Bob and across from Andi as the waiter poured their coffee. “Look,” Bob said after they ordered, “I’m concerned about last night.”

  “Tell me what happened,” Beth said. Bob looked at her, uncertain whether he should talk about it in front of Andi, but Beth reassured him with a nod, adding, “Mom knows all about it.”

  “I got a call early this morning from Marcie. She went down to feed my cat last night. I have a separate entrance around the back. She said someone had broken in and left a total mess.”

  “Is anything missing?” Andi asked.

  “She didn’t hang around to look, just grabbed the cat and ran out. She called the cops when she got back upstairs to her own floor. She said the major pieces are still there, though.”

  “Did the police do anything?” Beth asked. She paused while the waiter unloaded their food.

  “I doubt it,” he said, first picking up the salt and then the pepper to season his eggs. “They told her to have me call them when I figure out what’s missing.”

  “You said it had something to do with your father’s death. How come?” Beth asked.

  “I called Justin at the radio station before I woke you up. You met him, remember?”

  “How could I forget him.”

  “Justin said an insurance investigator stopped by to see me at the station yesterday. When he told the guy I wasn’t in, he asked if I still lived over on Atwells Avenue. Justin wouldn’t tell him. Then when I called Marcie back, she told me that when her husband came home from bowling last night, he noticed two Chinese dudes parked in a car across the street.”

  “I guess the rest is simple deduction.”

  “Exactly. I asked Justin to take a look at the place later this morning when he gets off work. Now why would some insurance company investigators go to such an extreme for a lousy little life insurance case?”

  Beth put down her half-eaten bagel and took a sip of coffee, allowing his question to dangle unanswered for the moment, debating with herself over how much to say. Her mother’s warning kick under the table was a clear vote in favor of caution, but she decided to go with her feelings for this man. There were some things he had to be told, although the part about the missing bank codes was not on her agenda.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with an insurance case,” she finally answered with a deep breath, and stopped.

  “Don’t be enigmatic this early in the morning,” Bob broke into her silence. “What are you talking about?”

  “My apartment was ransacked last night also, and it wasn’t a coincidence.”

  “What in hell are you talking about?” He was incredulous, and his expression showed it.

  “I told you about your father leaving town with Leung’s money. I think C.K. is doing all this to find it.”

  “But aren’t the cops looking for the money?”

  “C.K. told us not to report it.”

  “Why didn’t they want you to report it?”

  “He wasn’t into discussing that, but I figure they must have serious issues regarding the source of their funds or maybe even money laundering. All I know now is that Leung thinks you or I have some information.”

  “So you figure his guys broke into both our places?” he asked Beth, endearing himself to Andi by impulsively spearing the last forkful of home fries from her plate.

  “Yes. Last night, the doorman said that when Mom and I were at the opera, two Asian guys came to the building to deliver flowers for me. The flowers were from C.K. His deliverymen must have used the flowers to keep the doorman busy while another goon broke in the back way.”

  “Did they take anything?”

  “Not a thing. But they went through a file I keep at home with some papers on your father’s case.”

  “You’re conducting your own private investigation, aren’t you? Independent of Leung,” he asked.

  “I’ve grown since this mess began. Besides facing total disaster, I know what it feels like to be psychologically roughed up, thanks to C. K. Leung and his fat henchman.”

  “Not to mention being assaulted by a couple of their hired goons,” Andi volunteered.

  “I also know now that I can give as good as I get. One of those bastards won’t be getting a hard-on for a while.”

  “Beth!”

  “Sorry, Mom….So yes, Bob,” she continued, “I am looking into this on my own.”

  “When are you going to the cops about it?” he asked.

  “I’m not. I want to find the money before Leung does. I also want to know why he’s so insistent on keeping me out of it.”

  “He probably feels he lost face.”

  “You’re right. That was his excuse, but you know what? So did I. It was only money for him, for me it was my career.”

  “Look, I know fear and revenge can be compelling, but these are not exactly nice guys you’re playing with,” he admonished. Andi stopped chewing and nodded emphatically in agreement. “My father never did anyone any good, in life or in death,” Bob added regretfully. “You need to be careful here.”

  “I will be,” Beth said.

  “Do you have any idea where the money is?” he asked.

  “None whatsoever.” She shrugged without blinking an eye, the lawyer in her withholding any more of what she knew and what she had found. She probed instead: “Do you?”

  “No idea at all.”

  “Do you have any idea where your father may have been heading? I’m sure it’s somewhere down in the Caribbean.”
<
br />   “We were strangers. I didn’t even know he’d gone to Puerto Rico until the Coast Guard called about his death.”

  “Did they say anything about owning a sailboat down in the Caribbean?”

  “No. It’s the last thing in the world I would have figured him to have. When I was a kid, he hated it when sailboats got in the way of our speedboat. Sailing must have been Erica’s idea.”

  “Are you going back up to Providence now?” Beth asked.

  “I told Justin I’d call him before noon. I’ll grab a cab over to Grand Central and take the first train I can catch.”

  “When you check your apartment, pay attention to anyplace you keep personal papers. See if they’ve been taken or look like they’ve been moved.”

  “Okay, Counselor. I can see you’re not about to let this thing drop. If you’re so sure they wanted to find out if I knew anything about the missing money, I’ll check it all out carefully.”

  “Now that’s being a good client,” she said. “Call me if you learn anything.”

  “I’ll call you anyhow. And if you’re determined to see this thing through, let me know how I can help.”

  “I will, and thanks,” Beth responded. “When are you coming back into town?”

  “I’ll be back Wednesday. WKYN wants to announce my new radio show to the press on Thursday.” He said this with an exaggerated demonstration of casualness.

  “You got the job!” she shouted with delight. “I’m so excited. I totally forgot to ask you about it.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. He was beaming.

  “I wanted to surprise you with a copy of the press release on Wednesday, if you’re free for dinner.”

  “It’s a date. You can join Mom and me.” She impulsively threw her arms around his neck, hugging him until he groaned with pleasure. “I’m so proud of you.” Then she gave him a kiss, thrilled at having to stretch upward in order to meet his lips.

  “We’ve got a good thing, Beth. I don’t want it to stop.”

  “I hope we can survive this mess.”

  “We can,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll see you Wednesday.” After putting him in a taxi, Beth and Andi walked back to the apartment.

  That afternoon, Max was on a plane to New York less than four hours after the phone call from Andi. When she told him about the mugging and the break-in at Beth’s apartment the night before, the instincts of father and husband took over and nothing could dissuade him from coming up, especially since Andi also thought it was a good idea.

  Red Sky was high and dry on a cradle in the boatyard, so Max packed a bag and left for the Beef Island airport. He hired a twin-engine Cessna 340 at the airport, sharing its expense with an Italian sweater manufacturer living in Barranquilla, Colombia, and flew to San Juan, where he cleared U.S. customs and caught a flight to New York. With only a telephone call from Andi to give him the skeleton details of what had happened, Max could only stare out the plane window and let his imagination complete one wild scenario after another. At first he was worried about Andi and Beth and angry at Leung. Then he was angry at Beth for her stubbornness and angry at Andi for raising her like that. Finally, and most of all, he was angry at himself and felt guilty for sending Beth that reward notice in the first place.

  When they landed at LaGuardia, he got a cab, threw his suitcase onto the seat next to him, and gave Beth’s address on Sixty-third Street to the driver. “Do you want me to take the tunnel?” the driver asked.

  “No. Take the bridge,” Max answered. “I want to see the skyline.”

  “No problem.” They got onto the Grand Central Parkway and headed westward.

  “Should be able to breeze in tonight,” Max observed.

  “No problem. Sunday night’s easy even on Thanksgiving weekend.”

  Beth’s street was one-way against him, so he got out of the cab at the corner, preferring to walk for a few minutes in the cold night air, enjoying the collective aromas from ethnic restaurants and the sidewalks crowded with pedestrian traffic. He felt like an outsider carrying his suitcase and tan among the holiday shoppers, their fingers looped through the handles of crammed shopping bags. The soul of New York always in fast forward. As ever, the painted lady had its charm for him, and he was glad to be back. Then he arrived at Beth’s apartment, hugged and kissed his ladies, and they began the debriefing.

  —

  Their conversation had not been going well. Beth could see Max was holding himself tightly in check, and that made her more anxious. He was sitting across from her, on the couch next to her mother. His cup of coffee, cold and untouched, remained on the cocktail table in front of him. His arms were crossed, his legs were crossed, his mind was shutting down, and he could only hear that his wife and daughter were in danger. He was exhausted from the long trip and the drastic change in climate.

  “What do you mean, ‘may’ be alive?” he asked Beth.

  “Just what I’ve been telling you. It all adds up. I think he and Erica, and the money, are down in the Caribbean somewhere. Possibly Guadeloupe, but most probably Antigua.”

  “Well, that narrows it down. How did you figure that one out?”

  “It’s all in the documents I showed you, and the computer printouts. I’ve also been seeing his son and—”

  “You’ve been seeing his what?” he shouted compulsively, interrupting her in midsentence.

  Andi quickly got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, momentarily distracting Max and Beth with the sound of ice cubes falling into a glass as she poured vodka on the rocks for Max and wine for Beth and herself.

  Max continued on as Andi handed him the drink. “Now let me have that one again,” he said to Beth after taking a sip of the vodka.

  “His son, Max. I’ve been seeing his son. He’s given me a lot of solid information about his father.” Her mouth felt dry as she spoke, and she forced herself to bring the wineglass slowly and deliberately up to her lips.

  “Are you out of your mind?” He, too, was trying hard to be calm, but his ominous tone betrayed the fatigue.

  “What are you so surprised about? You knew I met him in Rhode Island last month.”

  “Meeting him is not seeing him.”

  “It’s only a matter of degree.”

  “So is the difference between a summer breeze and a hurricane.”

  “You might as well know I happen to like him too.” She could feel his upset from across the living room.

  “Of all the guys in the world. I want you to know I’m just furious.” He confirmed the obvious to her.

  “Furious at what?” she asked, not easily intimidated. “You asked me to do some investigating, remember? Now will you listen to the rest of it?”

  “Okay,” he said. “Finish.” But he wasn’t hearing yet.

  “He’s a nice young man. I met him this morning,” Andi cautioned him firmly, wanting to keep a heated discussion from escalating into a full-scale debacle between the two people she adored.

  “I’m worried sick,” he mumbled, shaking his head in disapproval. He picked up his drink, finished it with one last gulp, and tilted the empty glass back over his open mouth until one big ice cube fell in.

  “I’m going down to Antigua in two weeks,” Beth said.

  “If your mother doesn’t shoot you, I will.”

  “What do you think about all this, Mom?” Beth asked.

  “You’re talking to me, not your mother!” Max raged. “And don’t be a damn idiot. You’re dealing with people here that don’t live by our rules….What if, God forbid, you and your mother had come back while they were still here?”

  “You’re right about that,” Beth conceded. “They need those bank codes, and they’ll do anything to locate a copy.”

  “How did you find out you had a copy on that CD?”

  “Brian helped me pull it up on the computer.”

  “How much is in the secret accounts?”

  “Nearly a billion U.S. at any one time, maybe more. The banks are mostly down in th
e Caribbean. Some in the U.S., some in Switzerland. The deposits come from Arab banks.”

  He whistled in disbelief when he heard the amount, shaking his head in utter amazement as he realized his daughter was in more trouble than even he thought originally. “Where’d you put the CD?” he asked.

  “I created a fictitious new client, put the phony name on a red rope folder, and stashed it in the file room along with thousands of other files. No one can ever find it.”

  “I hesitate to ask, but what did you call it?”

  “ProCKtoscopic Research Corporation, named after what Sloane wrote on the CD. He was obviously telling C.K. to stick it up his ass.”

  “Clever, wasn’t he.”

  “I burned an extra copy of the CD. I want you to take it with you. Hide it someplace on Red Sky or at the boatyard so we have a backup copy….It’s our safe harbor.”

  “Don’t tell me about safe harbors. Minors are doing contract killings in New York for five hundred dollars or a vial of crack cocaine, and you think Leung will let you stand in his way?…What did Clifford say about all this?”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “What do you mean, he doesn’t know?” Max was closing in on apoplexy.

  “I never told him.”

  “Let me see if I understand this now: Your mother and I know, Brian knows, and Sloane’s son knows, Amy must know, so half of New York must know, but your boss, my partner, has no idea that you’re standing between Leung and a billion dollars of his very hot money?”

  “Well, Clifford okayed my handling the insurance case. I just didn’t tell him that the client was Sloane’s son. The rest of it developed afterwards. And you know what else? I don’t have to apologize for it!” She shouted back at him angrily, “I’m the fucking injured party and I’ll handle the fucking problem.”

  Intent on his own position, Max ignored her outburst and continued his own harangue. “You’ve been handling that dinky little insurance case in the office without telling Clifford the straight truth, including the part about the CD? He should throw you out on your ass.”

  Beth could see, feel, and hear her stepfather’s rage. The directed force of his anger was a new experience for her, and she was shocked. She tried to defend herself. “But I knew he’d never let me handle it otherwise,” she said, uncertain of her position now, her voice dropping momentarily.