Diamonds and Blood

by B R Kingsolver

  Chapter 22

  When we got back to the hotel, we discovered that Tom had given orders to move us to new rooms. Hotel security had supervised moving all our clothes, and I was glad my arsenal and loot were stashed above the ceiling in Nellie’s closet. Of course, that created a problem in retrieving everything, but the hotel was leaving the rooms empty and continuing to mark them as occupied. Nellie and I were told to contact security if we wanted room service.

  Tom was furious, and I didn’t blame him. “Those idiots weren’t after Nellie, they were after you,” he said. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t tell Mr. O’Malley to boot you off this detail.”

  “Noooo!”

  I turned to Nellie and shook my head. “He’s right. My involvement with Morgan’s murder investigation is putting you in danger. Besides, I’m not really earning my money, considering how much time I’m putting into the investigation.”

  It was Tom’s turn to shake his head. “No matter what sparked that mess tonight, you earned your money.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Tell the hotel you’re giving me the room below her. That puts me close, but if there’s another leak, whoever is after me won’t be targeting Nellie’s room.”

  Tom, like Nellie, had only a formal eighth-grade education, but that didn’t mean the boy was slow.

  “What do you mean, ‘another leak’?”

  “Think about it,” I said. “What is our standard contingency plan for trouble at the club? Plans that everyone in club security knows? In case of a problem, someone escorts Nellie to her dressing room, and then shelters in place, right? If I’m there, I’m the designated escort. If I’m not, then it’s Billy. So, why were those thugs waiting for us at her dressing room?”

  “Shit. I couldn’t figure out what those vamps were doing starting a fight,” Tom said.

  “Me, either. That’s why we didn’t go to her room. It didn’t make any sense. We got backstage, I looked around, and Nellie and I were the only people there. Isolated.”

  “I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Tom said. “I’m fitting both of you with tracking devices that broadcast audio.”

  “Do you think they wanted to kidnap you?” Nellie asked very quietly.

  “No, I think they planned to kill both of us.”

  “But why?” Wil asked when we sat down to dinner that evening.

  “I’m asking questions and coming up with names that are making someone uncomfortable.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Capozzi.”

  He nodded. “I had a feeling that was it. Tell me your theory.”

  So, I laid out what I suspected.

  “Morgan and Benito Capozzi were partners. Eileen Desroches was skimming. Leslie Desroches was friends with Alysia Capozzi. Alysia found someone who could move the skimmed diamonds. Leslie was having an affair with Jacques Savatier, and Eileen was having an affair with Pau Ricard. With me so far?”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Wil said.

  “Okay, then Morgan gets killed, and the Capozzi insider panics. Too many people involved, and Benito is pissed that a major revenue stream is disrupted. So, the guy knocks off Savatier and Desroches, but Alysia and Gerry Parker end up as collateral damage. That pisses off Benito even more. Cleaning up loose ends means getting rid of Eileen and her lover. Everything neat and tidy, and no one suspects.”

  I took a sip of my wine. “But then I start asking questions, and someone else suspects. Teddy Smith. And I’ll bet Smith was stupid enough to try blackmail.”

  “So, Miss Marple, who’s the mystery killer?”

  “No idea, but it’s someone who can muster a bunch of thugs to follow me around, stage that disaster at Le Sommet, and provide cars with bulletproof windows. If it was me, I think I’d bring Benito and David back in separately and pressure them. Hope they turn on whoever is killing everyone.”

  “Hmm. What kind of pressure would I put on Benito?” Wil asked.

  “Benito,” I said, “we know you and Joe Morgan were running hot diamonds. Now he’s dead, and so are all the potential witnesses. Sloppy, Benito. What does Carmine think about all this? I’ll bet he’s not happy.”

  Wil stared off into space. While he was thinking, I had another cracker with foie gras and poured myself some more wine. Then the waiter brought our dinners. So, it was some time before I heard his opinion.

  Leaning back in his chair, Wil took a sip of his coffee and asked, “You’d bring in Benito first? Carmine is getting old. I don’t think he pays a lot of attention anymore. But Benito does care about his son. I think calling David in and sweating him a little, then call Benito in and say his son is in trouble. We’ll see what he’s willing to tell me.”

  I nodded. What he said made sense. Wil had been a cop for almost twenty years, and he reached his high position by being a good, smart cop.

  “I defer to your superior experience,” I said. “Can I watch?”

  Wil showed David Capozzi into the interview room, and they sat down. I was in a room down the hall, watching on a monitor.

  “Thank you for coming in,” Wil said, setting a file folder on the table and opening it. “I just want to go over some information we’ve found in relation to your wife’s death.”

  David showed little in the way of either nervousness or interest. Actually, he looked tired, as though he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

  “We’ve been trying to figure out why your wife was at Jacques Savatier’s apartment,” Wil continued. “An informant told us that Alysia was having an affair with Savatier and Leslie Desroches. Would you have any knowledge of that?”

  No reaction. “No, Alysia and I had an open marriage. She might have been involved with him, but we never talked about it.”

  For all the emotion David showed, Wil might have been asking about the price of milk at the local market.

  “We found some expensive jewelry and loose diamonds at the scene of the explosion,” Wil said. “We believe those items were stolen from Joseph Morgan. Do you have any idea how your wife might have come into possession of that?”

  The tell was small, but David stiffened. His bored expression became slightly less bored.

  “No, I have no idea at all. Are you sure Alysia had those things and not someone else?”

  “There is considerable evidence that your wife’s death is related to Joseph Morgan’s murder,” Wil said. “We are convinced that Alysia knew about the thefts and who was selling the stolen goods.”

  If it was me, or any of the thieves I knew, I’d be erupting in indignation at that point, but David remained placid. It hit me that he had shown up without a lawyer. That probably meant his father didn’t know of Wil’s request to speak with him. Stupid, stupid. That meant he was hiding something from Benito.

  Then Wil switched his line of questioning, surprising me, as well as Capozzi.

  “Do you know Rene Tremblay?”

  “Uh, well, yes, I know him.”

  Wil nodded. “He works for you. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. Well, I mean, he works for the company.”

  “How about Alex Lupino?”

  “Uh, yeah, he works for us.” Capozzi was obviously uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and fidgeting.

  “And your company covers their medical expenses. Is that right?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Okay. Good.” Wil made a notation on the paper in front of him. “Do you know why Tremblay and Lupino were at Le Sommet nightclub the night before last?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “So, they weren’t there on your orders?”

  “No!” That was the first hint of emotion I’d seen. “I mean, why would they be there? We do all our trash collections during the day.”

  “I don’t know why they would be there,” Wil said, “I was hoping you could tell me. I thought that Montreal Waste Disposal had a policy against their employees moonlighting.”

  “We do!”

  Wil looked down
at his folder, tapping his pen against the table. The silence stretched.

  “Look, can’t you tell me what this is about?” David asked.

  Wil looked up. “Mr. Tremblay and Mr. Lupino got into some trouble at Le Sommet. Both of them are out of surgery now, and as soon as the doctors give us permission, we’ll be transferring them to the prison hospital. It’s good to know their insurance will cover the costs, because without extensive further surgeries, Mr. Tremblay is likely to lose his leg.” Wil shrugged. “It’s still touch and go with Mr. Lupino. The doctors give him about a fifty percent chance of surviving.”

  Capozzi turned pale. I had to hand it to Wil and his investigators. I didn’t know they had found the thugs I’d shot. I would have bet they were at some private hospital the Capozzis funded, and almost impossible to find.

  “Wh-wh-what happened? Was there some kind of accident?” David was definitely shaken up.

  “Not exactly, though there was an accident. We’re still looking for the car involved,” Wil said. “They are under arrest for breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and conspiracy to commit kidnapping. As to their injuries, they attempted to kidnap the wrong person, and suffered gunshot wounds.”

  Wil turned a page in the folder. “Our records show that Montreal Waste Disposal owns a maroon town car, license number QC-987042. We would like to examine that car. Today. When we’re through here, before you leave, please call your office and find out where it is.”

  I felt a tingle of terror, and knew it was far worse for David. Seeing Wil play top-cop for real was chilling. He gave off the vibe that he was the person a crime boss such as Carmine Capozzi should be afraid of. As for me, I was equally afraid of Wil at that moment as I was of Carmine, and I was terrified of mob bosses on a general basis.

  “So,” Wil continued, “You aren’t aware of where either your wife or your father was selling hot diamonds they were getting from Joseph Morgan?”

  “No, I told you…” David stopped, staring at Wil in horror as he realized what Wil had said.

  “That was pretty ballsy of her,” Wil went on, “competing with Benito, even if only on a small scale.” Wil shook his head. “Makes you wonder if Benito found out. Probably not. I doubt he’d treat family like that, especially Alonzo Donofrio’s granddaughter.”

  Someone knocked on the interview room door.

  “Yeah?” Wil called,

  “Mr. Capozzi and his lawyer are here.”

  “Oh, okay.” Wil stood and went to the door. He opened it. “Please have Noel see them to my office. And if you can help Mr. Capozzi here make a phone call before he leaves. He’s going to try and find that town car for us.”

  Turning to David, Wil said, “Thank you, Mr. Capozzi, you’ve been very helpful. I’ll mention how much we appreciate your cooperation to your father.”

  David had been pale before, but he swayed in his seat, and I was afraid he would faint. I watched Noel collect David and escort him out of the room.

  Movement from one of the other monitors drew my eyes, and I saw the camera was aimed at the receiving lobby. Benito and another man walked through, and then Benito stopped. He turned, and I saw he was watching David and Noel walking toward an office, open the door, and go inside.

  A few minutes later, Noel came to the room I was in, punched a code into a keypad, and the main monitor view changed from the empty interrogation room to an office where Wil was pouring coffee for Benito and the man with him.

  “What is David doing here?” Benito asked.

  “He’s been helping us with some lines of inquiry concerning his wife’s death,” Wil said as he sat down. “And then there’s that other matter.”

  “What other matter?”

  “The two employees of your company at Hospital Hotel-Dieu who we’ve arrested.”

  Benito’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “Arrested for what?”

  “Breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted kidnapping.”

  “Who did they kidnap?”

  “Nobody. That’s why they’re in the hospital. The woman they tried to kidnap shot them.” Wil shrugged. “We’re rather curious as to why they decided to kidnap her, but we haven’t interrogated them yet.”

  Benito’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, and he turned to his lawyer. They exchanged a look of bewilderment.

  “But the reason I asked you to come talk to me,” Wil said, “has to do with Joseph Morgan.”

  Benito’s head snapped around, and I could tell Wil had his complete attention.

  “We have information that Morgan was smuggling diamonds into North America from Sierra Leone. Then someone here was distributing them for him. We think that had something to do with the death of your daughter-in-law.”

  Benito’s puzzled expression warred with his alarmed expression. The man had no ability to hide his emotions, and I had an immediate fantasy of playing poker with him.

  “Alysia? No, she was just a housewife.”

  “Well, we found jewelry and a bag of diamonds stolen from Morgan at the scene where she died,” Wil said. He produced the bag of diamonds, and I thought Benito would have a stroke. “This bag is from Morgan’s Sierra Leone cutting shop. Why would Alysia have this, and where would she get it?”

  Wil leaned closer. “Who would a housewife go to if she needed to sell a few million in hot diamonds, Benito? Her husband? Her father-in-law? We know about your relationship with Geraldine Parker. Then this mess the other night? If I should be looking in another direction, tell me, because right now there are a lot of arrows pointing at Little Italy.”

  Wil didn’t keep Benito very long, but I knew that he set tails on both David and Benito. He also doubled the guard detail on the men in the hospital.

  “Now we see what happens,” he told me, leaning back in his office chair with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. I had to admit, I was curious as well.

  “So, you found the guys from the club?” I asked.

  “Yeah. There was a report on my desk when I came in this morning. The Hospital is a very old one that closed down two hundred years ago. It was used for various purposes, then the Capozzis bought it about a hundred years ago and turned it into a private, family hospital. We searched the place and found two men in surgery for gunshot wounds. My guys stuck around and checked their identities. The one you shot in the knee will be lucky to keep his leg. The other guy had half of his liver blown away.”

  “What about the third guy?”

  “Either you missed him, he’s dead, or they could take care of the wound without a hospital. The important thing is we’ve tied the nightclub attack to the Capozzis. Benito wasn’t happy when he left here.”

  Chapter 23

  That evening, Tom and Wil accompanied me to Safari. When we arrived, Tom asked, “You going to use the same illusion as last time?”

  I saw Wil’s eyebrow raise slightly at the word illusion. I had never explained my ability to project different personas as an illusion. I wasn’t really sure it was.

  “No, I’m going in as myself. The question we need to consider is, if a five-foot-six half-lycan party girl goes around asking questions about the Capozzis, why do the Capozzis go gunning for a tall, blonde, normal-looking girl?”

  I saw them both chew that over a bit.

  Making sure my knives, stun gun, and stun box were close at hand, I waltzed up to the head of the line at the front door, leaned over, and told the bouncer an incredibly crude and nasty joke. He threw his head back and bellowed with laughter.

  I winked at him. “What time do you get off?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “Well, if I’m still around, look me up,” I said, walking past him into the club without paying the cover charge.

  I was leaning against the bar, sipping on a drink, when Tom and Wil finally got through the door and waded up to the bar on either side of me.

  “What in the hell did you tell him to let you in?” Wil asked. “I showed him my damned ID, and he still di
dn’t let me in until I paid the cover.”

  With a shrug, I said, “Try flirting with him next time. Hey, do you see that white-haired woman in the red sparkly dress over there?” I pointed with my chin toward Clarissa.

  “Yeah,” Tom said.

  “That’s who I came to talk to.” I pushed away from the bar and set off in Clarissa’s direction. I managed to get within twenty feet of her when she spotted me. Her eyes widened, and she froze in place for a moment, then she spun around and headed in the opposite direction.

  My legs were a lot longer than hers, and my height made it difficult to ignore me, so people moved as I pushed past them and caught up with her. I shoved the muzzle of the Mini-Stealth into her ribs while grabbing her shoulder with my other hand. Leaning down, I said into her ear, “Montreal can be dangerous, especially when the hunters hunt the hunters.”

  She stopped walking and stiffened. “What are you?”

  Not who are you. I didn’t bother to answer. I shoved her into motion again, steering us toward the ladies’ room.

  “You and I are going to engage in a little bartering,” I said. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know, and in exchange, I’m not going to kill you. Fair enough?”

  She almost balked when I didn’t slow down at the restroom door and kept pushing her down the hallway to a shallow alcove next to an emergency exit. I reached up and touched the exit sign, shorting it out. The end of the hallway plunged into darkness.

  “Now,” I said, “you’re going to tell me why a Capozzi hit squad came looking for me after you talked to a half-lycan woman.”

  Clarissa didn’t answer.

  “Do you know a Capozzi thug named Rene Tremblay?” I asked, moving the Mini-Stealth from her ribs to her knee. “He got shot in the knee, and the doctors aren’t sure they can save the leg. Now, who did you talk to?”

  “He’ll kill me,” she said.

  “You obviously haven’t been listening very well. If you don’t start talking, he won’t need to kill you.”

  “David.”