A Walk Among the Tombstones Page 10

Page 10

 

  "Whats the matter?"

  "What do I tell Francines family? Every time the phone rings Im afraid its one of her cousins. Her parents are separated and her mother moved back to Jordan, but her fathers still in the old neighborhood and shes got relatives all over Brooklyn. What do I tell them?"

  "I dont know. "

  "Ill have to fill them in sooner or later. Time being, Ill say she went on a cruise, something like that. You know what theyll figure?"

  "Marital problems. "

  "Thats it. Were just back from Negril, so whys she going on a cruise? Must be trouble between the Khourys. Well, they can think whatever they want. Truth of the matter is we never had a cross word, we never had a bad day. Jesus. " He picked up the phone, punched in a number, keyed in his own number at the tone. He hung up and drummed the tabletop impatiently, and when the phone rang he picked it up and said, "Hey, man, hows it going? Oh, yeah? No shit. Hey, heres the deal…"

  Chapter 5

  I went to the eight-thirty meeting at St. Pauls. On the way over it had crossed my mind that I might run into Pete Khoury there, but he didnt show up. Afterward I helped fold chairs, then joined a group of people for coffee at the Flame. I didnt stay there long, though, because by eleven I was at Poogans Pub on West Seventy-second Street, one of the two places where Danny Boy Bell could generally be found between the hours of 9:00 p. m. and 4:00 a. m. The rest of the time you couldnt count on finding him anywhere.

  His other place is a jazz club called Mother Goose on Amsterdam. Poogans was closer, so I tried it first. Danny Boy was at his usual table in back, deep in conversation with a dark-skinned black man with a pointed chin and a button nose. He was wearing wraparound sunglasses with mirrored lenses and a powder-blue suit with more in the shoulders than God or Golds Gym could have put there. A little cocoa-brown straw hat perched on top of his head, adorned with a flamingo-pink hatband.

  I had a Coke at the bar and waited while he finished his business with Danny Boy. After five minutes or so he uncoiled himself from his chair, clapped Danny Boy on the shoulder, laughed heartily, and headed for the street. I turned around to get my change from the bar, and when I turned back again his place had been taken by a balding white man with a brushy mustache and a belly straining at his shirtfront. I hadnt recognized the first fellow, other then generically, but I knew this man. His name was Selig Wolf and he owned a couple of parking lots and took bets on sporting events. I had arrested him once ages ago on an assault charge, but the complainant had decided not to press it.

  When Wolf left I took my second Coke with me and sat down. "Busy evening," I said.

  "I know," Danny Boy said. "Pick a number and wait, its getting as bad as Zabars. Its good to see you, Matthew. I saw you before but I had to suffer through the hour of the Wolf. You must know Selig. "

  "Sure, but I didnt know the other fellow. Hes head of fundraising for the United Negro College Fund, right?"

  "A mind is a terrible thing to waste," he said solemnly. "To think you would waste yours judging by appearances. The gentleman was wearing a sartorial classic, Matthew, known as the zoot suit. Thats a zoot suit, you know, with a drape shape and a reet pleat. My father had one in his closet, a souvenir of his flaming youth. Every now and then he would take it out and threaten to wear it, and my mother would roll her eyes. "

  "Good for her. "

  "His name is Nicholson James," Danny Boy said. "It should have been James Nicholson, but the names were reversed on some official document early on and he decided it had more style that way. You might say it goes with his retro fashion statement. Mr. James is a pimp. "

  "Go figure. I never would have guessed. "

  Danny Boy poured himself some vodka. His own fashion statement was one of quiet elegance, a tailored dark suit and tie, a boldly patterned red-and-black vest. He is a very short, slightly built albino African-American- it would be way off the mark to call him black, since hes anything but. He spends his nights in saloons, and hes partial to dim lighting and low noise levels. Hes as rigid as Dracula about not venturing out in daylight, and rarely answers the phone or the door during those hours. Every night, though, hes in Poogans or Mother Goose, listening to people and telling them things.

  "Elaines not with you," he said.

  "Not tonight. "

  "Give her my love. "

  "I will," I said. "I brought you something, Danny Boy. "

  "Oh?"

  I palmed him a pair of hundreds. He looked at the money without flashing it, then glanced at me with his eyebrows elevated.

  "I have a prosperous client," I said. "He wants me to take cabs. "

  "Did you want me to call you one?"

  "No, but I thought I ought to spread a little of his dough around. All you have to spread is the word. "

  "What word is that?"

  I ran through the official story without mentioning Kenan Khourys name. Danny Boy listened, frowning occasionally in concentration. When I finished he took out a cigarette, looked at it for a moment, then put it back in the pack.

  "A question arises," he said.

  "Go. "

  "Your clients wife is out of the country, and presumably safe from those who would harm her. So he assumes theyll direct their attention at someone else. "

  "Right. "

  "Well, why should he care? I love the idea of a public-spirited dope dealer, like all those marijuana growers in Oregon who make huge anonymous cash donations to Earth First and the eco-saboteurs. Well, when I was growing up I liked Robin Hood, as far as that goes. But what difference does it make to your man if the bad guys snatch somebody elses sweetie? They get the ransom and that just leaves one of his competitors in a negative cash-flow situation, thats all. Or they screw up and thats the end of them. As long as his own wifes out of the picture-"

  "Jesus, it was a perfectly good story until I told it to you, Danny Boy. "

  "Sorry. "

  "His wife didnt make it out of the country. They snatched her and they killed her. "

  "He tried to stonewall? Wouldnt pay the ransom?"

  "He paid four hundred large. They killed her anyway. " His eyes widened. "Your ears only," I added. "The death isnt being reported, so that part of it shouldnt get out on the street. "

  "I understand. Well, that makes his motive easier to grasp. He wants to get even. Any idea who they are?"

  "No. "

  "But you figure theyll do it again. "

  "Why quit on a winning roll?"

  "Nobody ever does. " He helped himself to more vodka. At both of his regular places they bring him the bottle in an ice bucket, and he drinks great quantities of it without paying much attention to it, just drinking it down like water. I dont know where he puts it, or how his body processes it.

  He said, "How many bad guys?"

  "Minimum of three. "

  "Splitting four tenths of a mil. They might be taking cabs a lot themselves, dont you think?"

  "I had that thought myself. "

  "So if somebodys throwing a lot of money around, that would be useful information. "

  "It might. "

  "And the drug dealers, especially the major players, should get the word that theyre at risk for kidnapping. They might just as easily grab a dealer, dont you think? It wouldnt have to be a woman. "

  "Im not sure about that. "

  "Whys that?"

  "I think they enjoyed the killing. I think they got off on it. I think they used her sexually, and I think they tortured her, and then when the novelty wore off they killed her. "

  "The body showed signs of torture?"

  "The body came back in twenty or thirty pieces, individually wrapped. And thats not for the street, either. I hadnt planned on mentioning it. "

  "Id just as soon you hadnt, to tell you the truth. Matthew, is it my imagination or is the world turning nastier?"

  "It doesnt seem to be lightening up. "

  "It doesnt, does it? Remember the Harmonic Convergence, a
ll the planets lining up like soldiers? Wasnt that supposed to signal the dawn of some kind of New Age?"

  "Im not holding my breath. "

  "Well, they say its always darkest before the dawn. I see what you mean, though. If killings part of the fun, and if theyre into rape and torture, well, they wont pick some raggedy-ass dope dealer with a beer gut and a five oclock shadow. Nothing queer about these fellows. "

  "No. "

  He thought for a moment. "Theyll have to do it again," he said. "They could hardly be expected to quit after a score like that. I wonder, though. "

  "If theyve done it before? I was wondering the same thing myself. "

  "And?"

  "They were pretty slick," I said. "I get the feeling they had some practice. "

  FIRST thing after breakfast the next morning I walked over to the Midtown North station house on West Fifty-fourth. I caught Joe Durkin at his desk, and he caught me off balance by complimenting me on my appearance. "Youre dressing better these days," he said. "I think its that womans doing. Elaine, right?"

  "Thats right. "

  "Well, I think shes a good influence on you. "

  "Im sure she is," I said, "but what the hell are you talking about?"

  "Thats a nice-looking jacket, thats all. "

  "This blazer? It must be ten years old. "

  "Well, you never wear it. "

  "I wear it all the time. "

  "Maybe its the tie. "

  "Whats so special about the tie?"

  "Jesus Christ," he said. "Did anybody ever tell you youre a difficult son of a bitch? I tell you you look nice and the next thing I know Im on the fucking witness stand. How about we start over? Hello, Matt, its great to see you. You look like shit. Have a seat. Is that better?"

  "Much better. "

  "Im glad. Sit down. What brings you here?"

  "I had the urge to commit a felony. "

  "I know the feeling. Theres hardly a day goes by that I dont get the urge myself. You got any particular felony in mind?"

  "I was thinking of a class D felony. "

  "Well, we got lots of those. Criminal possession of forgery devices is a class D felony, and youre probably committing that one at this very minute. You got a pen in your pocket?"

  "Two pens and a pencil. "

  "Gee, it sounds as though I better Mirandize you and get you booked and printed. But I dont suppose thats the class D felony you had in mind. "

  I shook my head. "I was thinking of violating Section Two Hundred Point Zero Zero of the Criminal Code. "

  "Two Hundred Point Zero Zero. Youre gonna make me look that up, arent you?"

  "Why not?"

  He gave me a look, then reached for a black looseleaf binder and flipped through it. "Its a familiar number," he said. "Oh, right, here we are. Two Hundred Point Zero Zero. Bribery in the third degree. A person is guilty of bribery in the third degree when he confers, or offers or agrees to confer, any benefit upon a public servant upon an agreement or understanding that such public servants vote, opinion, judgment, action, decision or exercise of discretion as a public servant will thereby be influenced. Bribery in the third degree is a class D felony. " He went on reading silently for a moment, then said, "Are you sure you wouldnt prefer to violate Section Two Hundred Point Zero Three?"