The Woman In Blue (Nick O'Brien Case Files)
Page 15
I feel like I’ve been locked inside a top and spun across the floor. What I thought I understood is false. What I hoped for has evaporated. Now falls the most unenviable task of all. Tossing and turning all night, I convinced myself that my own client, the woman I have been drawn to nearly irresistibly since we first met, may be deeply involved in the very case she hired me to investigate. For the life of me, I can’t figure her angle in it all, but this morning I’m not falling for any waterworks or sappy sensibilities. Today I get answers. I pick up the horn and dial the New Yorker.
“Could you ring room 2302 for me please?...Yes, I’ll hold…”
Where is she? Come on, Marjorie, pick up.
Ten rings, no answer. Something is wrong. I slam down the phone and run downstairs. Good thing I came into the office this morning. Trying to get to the New Yorker from my house in Inwood would have taken forever, but from my office in Hell’s Kitchen, it’s a quick enough cab ride.
As the taxi pulls up to the New Yorker, I toss a bill to the cabby, snap “Keep the change,” and am inside the doors almost as soon as I hit the pavement. Chauncey isn’t in yet, but as I reach the elevators I see a familiar face.
“Agnes, you wonderful dear, can you come with me please? I need your help.” The older, colored housekeeper cocks her head to the side and gives me that look that says she figures I’m up to something.
“What you want with me, Mr. Nick? You ain’t got no aims that’s gonna get me in trouble, do you?” I pull her into the elevator with me as it opens and hit the button for the twenty-third floor, pushing out an older gentleman in a business suit looking to join us.
“Sorry pal, security. Take the next elevator.”
“Mr. Nick,” Agnes scolds putting one hand on her hip and wagging another in my face, “you know good and well you ain’t no security. I just know you is gonna get me fired. What is you up to?”
“Nothing, Aggie my girl, but a friend of mine may be in trouble. Chauncey ain’t in yet, so I need you to let me in her room, just so we can check on her.”
“You wants me to break into a room? You sure is trying to get me fired. Uh, huh, sure as day is bright. I ain’t gonna put myself out of a job for your shenanigans.”
“Nah, Aggie, it ain’t like that, I promise. If you get in trouble, I’ll hire you myself, I swear. I’ve just got to check on my friend.”
As we pile out of the elevator and sprint toward 2302, I hear Agnes mutter under her breath, “Hire me, hah. Crazy Irishman ain’t got two nickels to rub together and he gonna hire me.”
Despite her protestations, Agnes uses her cleaning master key to open the door. I burst into the room with Agnes right behind, only to spot a startled and wet-headed Marjorie in a hotel robe toweling her hair in the main room.
“What on earth? Nick, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry ma’am,” Agnes replies, “but Mr. Nick said he thought you was hurt or something. Please don’t report me. I’ll toss him out on his raggedy behind right now.”
Marjorie smiles. “No, that won’t be necessary. It is fine. I know him. Thank you for your concern.”
Agnes nods, gives me one last dose of the stink-eye, and then leaves, locking the door behind her.
“I’m sorry, doll, but I phoned to see when we might be able to get together, and when you didn’t answer…well, I thought something might have happened to you.” She laughs and continues drying her hair.
“I heard the phone ring but I had just gotten into a bath. I wasn’t about to climb out to answer. I had no idea it was you, Nick. I’m sorry, darling, if I caused you alarm. I’m fine.”
“We need to talk but I’ll go take a walk and let you pull yourself together first.”
She shakes her damp head. “No need, Nick, just let me get changed and we can talk. Have you had breakfast? I can have something sent up.”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
I take a seat on the sofa while Marjorie slips into the bedroom. Think though I might, I can’t figure the best way to dig into this conversation. There is no easing into it. It’s just going to have to come out straight.
Marjorie emerges from the bedroom wearing, not surprisingly, a blue dress. This one is a powder-blue number with thin, vertical stripes. It makes her look more like a schoolmarm than a sultry society dame.
“So, Nick, what was it you wanted to talk about. Any breaks on who might have harmed Tommy?”
Here goes nothing.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Listen, Marjorie, and listen good. You are in this thing up to your eyeballs, and every time I start digging, you start bawling. So no more waterworks, no more lies, and no more ducking the question. Just spill it. Tell me the truth about your part in all this and what you know about Tommy or so help me I’m off this case and you can sort it out with the DA.”
I can see the tears starting to form, but a stern look from me shows Marjorie it won’t work this time. Somehow, she manages to turn off the waterworks before they really get started.
“Nick, I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“The truth, Marjorie. Tommy was a thief, and that wasn’t news to you when you came to me. He swiped some diamonds from a Boston mob boss named Hyman Abrams, but best I can figure you knew that too. Now word here was he wasn’t lifting them for himself, but for Frank Scalice, to fund Frank’s buying back into the top seat of the Mineo-Mangano family, which you also knew. I figure he was due to drop the diamonds to Scalice the same night he was to meet you for dinner, but Tommy never showed. Scalice doesn’t have the stones, so somebody offed Tommy before he could make the drop. Tommy had a dupe, Danny Lupo, a heavy out of Boston who works for Abrams. He also had a female partner on the job, probably the same one in the newspaper at Solomon’s funeral, which you admit was you. So tell me, Marjorie, how am I doing so far?”
Marjorie bites her lower lip and flops heavily down in a chair. She is looking anywhere but into my eyes, and her face says she is searching for the truth, or whatever substitute for it she plans to pitch. Finally she looks at me.
“Okay, Nick, so you are a good enough detective to put all this together. Yes, Tommy was working for Scalice, and yes, I was his partner. Scalice doesn’t know anything about me. Tommy was the contact, and he was an okay thief, but he couldn’t plan his way out of a paper bag. He needed a pro that could help him plan the job. He needed me.”
“So bye-bye Boston damsel, hello jewel thief then, is it?”
Marjorie’s cool demeanor doesn’t waver at my goading. No waterworks this time. Playacting is over and I am dealing with a hardcore Mata Hari who knows her stuff. This icy dame is a full one-eighty from the desperate socialite I fell for, but I am more attracted to her now than ever.
“I was the brains, and Tommy was the hands. We had worked together before. He knew he couldn’t pull this off under the nose of Abrams’s security alone, so he promised me a fifty-fifty split of his cut if I planned every detail of the job. From what Scalice told Tommy, our part of the haul, ten percent, was going to be two hundred thousand dollars. With half for me and half for Tommy, it would be enough to walk away from this life.”
So for the right setup, she’s willing to walk away? Maybe there’s a ray of sunshine in this mess after all.
“So why would you hire me to find Tommy?”
“When he didn’t show that night, I figured he skipped town, or gone into hiding, with the whole split. I hired you to track him down, hoping to find him and my half of our cut. I had no idea he had been killed.”
“So if the two of you worked the job together, and you were the brains of the outfit, how is it you let Tommy out of your sight with the goods?”
“Tommy had to do the hands-on stuff himself. While showing up around Abrams place was no big deal due to my father’s business dealings, being there after hours would have been suspicious. I was to wait here for Tommy to do the job, fence the jewels, then meet m
e for my cut.”
“And you weren’t there for the fencing? Awful trusting of you, or hadn’t you heard there is no honor among thieves?”
She continues to ignore my attempts to get a rise out of her. “Part of the deal was that Tommy bring the stones to a fence. Scalice didn’t want to be connected with it in case word leaked out. I’m based in Boston. Only Tommy knew where to take the stones here to get them washed for cash. Given the tight circle of trust in family circles, I had to keep my distance from Tommy’s contacts. Someone must have found out about the heist, known where he was headed, and grabbed him before he got there.”
“So you have no idea who the fence was, or who might have nabbed Tommy?”
“No. If I did I would tell you.”
“And so the whole adopted brother thing? Any of that hold water?”
“No. I’m sorry, I lied to you about that, but I expected that you would be much more likely to help a worried sister find her missing brother. Who would help a professional jewel thief find her traitorous partner. Was I wrong?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, I suppose you were right about that one. I knew something was fishy about your story from day one, but I had no idea it was going to turn out to be Jonah’s whale.”
The defensive coolness falls from her face and the two of us share a laugh, shattering the tension in the room.
“Okay, Marjorie, if you’ve really put all your cards on the table now, then we are where we are. We’ve got to figure where to go from here, and that means we are going to need Jimmy’s help.”
A look of concern returns to her face. “You aren’t going to turn me into the police, are you Nick? After all we’ve been through?”
“No, doll, but I can’t help you out of this mess. Only Jimmy can. Will you trust me?”
“So you think your brother is going to let me go after he finds out the whole truth?”
“Not a chance. Jimmy is as straight an arrow as they come, but I’ve got an angle that’ll get Jimmy and I off the hook on this one, and will get you squared with the law. If you will trust me, I’ll do everything I can to help you. I really like you, kiddo, and if we can unwind this dizzy mess, maybe we can see about that.”
Her eyes fill with uncertainty. “Okay, Nick, I’ll trust you, but this had better work. If it comes out that I am part of the theft of Abrams diamonds, there won’t be a safe jail in the east that will keep him and his crew from killing me.”
I pick up the phone and ring Jimmy’s office.
“Yeah, Jimmy, it’s Nick. Listen, I need you to clear your calendar this morning, I’m on my way with Marjorie and we’ve got a lot to tell you…Yeah, I’d say it counts as a break in the case, but just stay put and don’t talk to anybody about it until we get there, okay?...Thanks, Jimmy. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
I grab my coat and Marjorie puts a hat on over her still slightly damp hair. I help her into her coat and grab my fedora as we leave the room. On the way through the lobby, Agnes smiles warmly at Marjorie, but gives me another dose of the stink-eye and mutters a quiet “Tsk, tsk” under her breath as we pass.
I’m definitely going to have to buy Agnes something nice to get me off of her naughty list.
We hop into a cab and I direct the cabbie to bring us to the DA’s office. If this goes like I plan, it should wrap this whole thing up, out Tommy’s killer, and give Marjorie and I a shot at happily ever after. But then again, when was the last time anything worked according to plan?
Chapter Twenty-two – Loose Lips
(DA’s office, downtown Manhattan, NYC)
As we file into Jimmy’s office, he knows something big is up. He’s always been able to read me like the morning paper.
“Jimmy, this one needs to be just between us. Would you mind having your folks step out?”
A shadow clouds his visage, but with a furrowed brow he orders his guys to step out of the office and close the door behind them.
“Okay, Nicky, spill it. What’s all this cloak and dagger stuff anyway?”
I bring Jimmy up to speed on the whole story so far, including Marjorie’s part in it, minus her admission of being the brains behind the operation. His already shadowed face grows darker the more of the story I spin out. When all the cards are finally on the table, he is sitting behind his desk, fingers steepled almost as if in prayer. He shakes his head slightly back and forth.
“Nicky, I’m sorry about this, but you know I have no choice but to arrest Miss Dillon and call Boston about it.” I shoot Marjorie, who has started the liquid factory up again at my brother’s speech, a reassuring look as Jimmy continues. “They will want to file the papers to have her transferred back there for trial. My hands are tied.”
“Let me see about loosening them a bit for you. Hear me out. Marjorie is just a little fish. The boys from Boston are going to want the big fish behind the heist, so we feed them Scalice. We also set up a sting, and leak word to the streets, that we’ve got an informant willing to testify about Tommy’s killer. This will bring the real killer out of the shadows, we nab him, and it’s blackjack all around. Boston gets Scalice, you get a mobster and a murderer both off your streets, and Marjorie gets a deal for helping and being willing to testify against Scalice. Winners, winners everywhere. So what do you say, Jimmy? Work with me on this one.”
Jimmy scratches his chin and mulls over the proposal. “Truth be told I’ve got nothing solid on Marjorie other than her hearsay confession to you. It would take her testimony to nail Scalice on anything at all. The Boston DA might be willing to work this, but I can’t make any promises. I will make the call, though.”
“That’s all I ask, Jimmy.”
Jimmy picks up the phone and puts a call through to Boston. He goes straight to the top and after a brief delay winds up with the DA himself on the line. After laying it all out, Boston agrees to a deal for a suspended sentence on Marjorie for her involvement in exchange for her testimony against Scalice for conspiracy to commit grand theft. I give Jimmy a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
“Now for the second part of the plan.”
I grab the phone and call Liam, telling him to leak word quickly through every rat-hole he can find that we are meeting an informant at Luigi’s Restaurant in Little Italy, four o’clock today, who’s ready to dish on the murder of Tommy DeLanz. Then we prepare to head to Luigi’s, and let the killer come to us.
“But Nicky, what about Marjorie? You want me to have her put into protective custody?”
“Oh no, Nick,” Marjorie objects, “Whatever else happens, I’m not going anywhere away from you until this ugly mess is over.”
“She’ll be fine, Jimmy. She can hang out at the restaurant, you and I will stake things out from across the street, and your plainclothes boys can cover the restaurant. I’ll even get Billy Boyle to hop on his bike and play lookout. It’ll be smooth as cream.”
Billy Boyle, that enterprising paperboy and part-time snitch for me, lives nearby and runs papers through the Bowery and Little Italy. He’ll be perfect cover as nobody looks twice at a raggedy paperboy on a bike. He’s been my eyes and ears before, and I always manage to see that a few extra bucks make their way to him when he helps out like this. Like I told Jimmy, it’s blackjack all around.
Jimmy’s secretary, Clara Reins, approaches as we exit the office. “Mr. O’Brien, are you leaving? You have a one o’clock appointment with Franklin Dobbs from Dobbs, McCauley and Stern. Will you be back here by then or should I instruct him to meet you elsewhere?”
“Phyllis dear, we’ve got an informant on the DeLanz case. We’re off to meet them at Luigi’s in Little Italy,” Jimmy answers in a bit-too-loud voice. “I will need you to clear my calendar for today and tomorrow at least. We are supposed to meet at four o’clock this afternoon, but this informant is a bit spooked, so might take the person a while to show. I’ll be moving the witness into protective custody today and taking the deposition tomorrow. If we need more time than that, I will let you know.”
“Unavoidable, dear. Please tell the judge I am working a joint case with the Boston DA and have no choice but to postpone. He won’t like it, but he will get over it.”
“Or he’ll die mad,” I add.
“Yes, Mr. O’Brien. I’ll work it out. Next week is Judge Clark’s son’s birthday, so I’ll make sure and send a nice present from you. That ought to smooth things over well enough.”
Jimmy gives Clara a wink and a nod. “That’s a good girl, Clara, always looking out for me. I’m telling you, Nicky, you need to get yourself a topnotch assistant like Clara. She’ll keep you straight.”
“Heh, when I find one that will work for empty promises and a song, I’ll let you know. Right now that’s about all I could afford to pay.”
“You could work for me. I am always looking for top investigators.”
“Sorry, Jimmy. You are the one straight arrow in a quiver-full of crooked, but you know when times call for it I tiptoe over the line if that’s what it takes. Not sure your boss would appreciate my creativity.”
“Not sure I would either.”
Jimmy, Marjorie, and I exit the ADA’s suite and head downstairs. As the elevator encloses the three of us, I grab Jimmy’s arm.
“So what gives with the dog and pony show back there, Jimmy? You were selling our story to your own people harder than a used car salesman.” Jimmy flashes a deep frown.
“I’ve suspected for a while I have a stoolie for the families in my office. No idea who it is, but if I am right, word will get out faster than even Liam can dump it into the street. I’ve told Clara when I give her the wink and call her a ‘good girl’, she knows to be particularly watchful about anyone doing anything suspicious after I leave. I’m hoping if we do this enough, she will notice a pattern and spot the snitch.”
“Gotcha, Jimmy. You need to tell Clara to be careful, though. If a mob stoolie thinks he’s made, they can get pretty enthusiastic about plugging a leak.”