“Why don’t you just tell him?” I asked. “Or I can tell him.”
The toddler’s mother screamed at the boy, who had wandered too far away in pursuit of the gulls. The kid’s name was Harry.
“Then he wouldn’t have tried to have me killed,” she said.
“You want to die?”
“No,” she said, “but I’m going to whether he kills me or not. Within a few months. I’m dying, Lew. Dr. Green knows it. I started seeing him as a therapist when I first learned about the tumor more than a year ago. I didn’t want Carl to know. I arranged for treatment and surgery in New York and told Carl I simply wanted a few weeks or more to visit old school friends, one of whom was getting married. He had no objections. I caught him and Caroline in bed the day I returned. I had hurried home a day early to be with my husband, break the news to him. Treatment and surgery proved to be relatively ineffective. The tumor is inoperable and getting bigger. I don’t wish to die slowly in a hospital.”
“So you set your husband up?”
“You can look at it that way,” she said. “But I couldn’t do it without his full cooperation.”
Harry the toddler was back with his mother, who was standing and brushing sand from the boy, who was trying to pull away. There were gulls to chase and water to wade in.
“You disapprove.”
“I don’t know. It’s your life. You know a short tank of a man, about as bald as I am? Drives a blue Buick.”
“Catano,” she said. “Luke Catano.”
“He’s been following me since your husband hired me. He saved my life at least twice.”
“He wanted you to lead him to me,” she said. “He wouldn’t want you dead. Carl is in a hurry. Luke is Carl’s ‘personal assistant.’ He has a record, including a conviction for murder two. Don’t ask me how he and Carl came together. The story I was told didn’t make much sense. So it looks like Luke Catano is my designated assassin.”
“What if I don’t tell him where you are,” I said.
“You don’t plan to tell him?”
“No, even if you tell me to.”
“Good,” she said. “I want to finish a few books, classics, before Catano comes. He’ll find me without your leading him here. It may take him awhile. If it takes too long, I’ll find a reasonably subtle way to let Carl know. I plan to die right here on the beach if possible. I’ve left a letter with my lawyer, documents proving my husband’s infidelity, misuse of my money, which I knew about and chose to ignore, and a statement that if I’m found dead under suspicious circumstances, a full investigation into the likelihood of my husband’s being responsible will be conducted. Now that I know Luke Catano is involved I’ll drive into Sarasota tomorrow with a new letter for my lawyer including Catano’s name. Lew?”
I must have looked dazed. I came back to the beach, the world, the beautiful dying woman and the boy trying to get away from his mother.
“Sorry,” I said.
I got up.
“That’s it, then,” I said.
“Almost,” she answered. “Adele.”
I sat again.
“Adele?”
“The file on your desk. The day I came to your office. I read it before you got there, remember I was just finishing it when you arrived.”
“I remember” I said.
“Is she all right?”
“Yes, I think so,” I said. “She’s going to a foster home, a good one. Her father’s dead.”
“I know,” she said, looking at me. “I killed him.”
“Oh, Holy Mother,” I said, closing my eyes.
“Did Carl tell you I took his gun, the one in his desk, when I left?”
“No.”
“I can see why. It was not purchased legally. After I left your office I thought about Dwight Handford. I must have decided to kill him while I was reading the file. The idea of what he was doing to … I’m leaving a relatively evil world, Lew. I didn’t want to leave it before a monster like Handford. Somehow it didn’t seem right that I should die and he should go on living. I memorized his address and got up enough nerve to kill him. I’d never fired a gun before. He had no idea who I was or why I was killing him.”
“Christ,” I said.
“You’re shocked?”
“Yes,” I said.
“But you’re not sorry Handford is dead?”
“No.”
My eyes were open now. Her hand was out, waiting. I got up and took it.
“You’re a good listener, Lew,” she said.
“My job,” I answered.
“Carl is not a good listener. He’s a talker. If he listened, he’d know where I might be.”
I let go of her hand and she put her sunglasses back on and returned to Tolstoy.
I headed back to Sarasota, considered making a stop for coffee, but I didn’t want to be with people. I kept seeing Melanie Sebastian sitting on that lounger in her wide-brimmed straw hat, reading and waiting.
In my room, I popped Prince of Foxes into my VCR. Not enough Orson Welles. Too much Tyrone Power.
In a few days I’d forgive Power and watch Blood and Sand.
The phone in my office rang on and off for more than an hour. I lay in bed watching the movie. I ignored the phone till the movie was over and then I answered. I didn’t want Carl Sebastian coming to my door or sending Luke Catano. It was Sebastian.
“Well?” he asked, sounding like a concerned and ill-treated husband.
“I found her, lost her,” I said. “I talked to her for a few minutes. All she said was she didn’t want to talk to you. I’ll keep looking for her, no charge. If you want your money back—”
“No, no. Work fast,” he said earnestly. “I’m worried about Melanie.”
“I’ll work as fast as I can,” I said.
When I hung up, I took out the photograph of Melanie and Carl Sebastian on the beach. They still looked happy. To the extent you can tell such things, they seemed to be very much in love.
I decided to wait a few days, drive around, ask questions in all the wrong places, let Catano keep up with me and then I’d give up and tell Sebastian I had lost her trail. I would send him a report. A few days after that, maybe a week or two, Catano and Sebastian would find her. Melanie would be dead. I hoped it would be on the beach but it would probably be a hit-and-run.
I tried not to think about it, but trying didn’t help.
EPILOGUE
SALLY AND I went to a movie, something at Burns Court, something in French set in the distant past, costumes, horses, palaces, love, tragedy. We ate popcorn. My mind was on a beach.
Both of us ate lightly at the Bangkok Restaurant. I couldn’t finish my pad thai. I always finished pad thai.
“Lew, where are you?” she asked.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m coming back.”
“Remember,” she said. “I told you the kids are away for the weekend.”
“I remember,” I said.
She played with her food for a few seconds and looked at me.
“I’m not ready, Lew,” she said.
“I’m not either.”
The restaurant was Saturday-night crowded. No one was paying any attention to us. Sally had worn a blue dress with a wide belt. Her earrings dangled with blue stones that caught the light. Her dark hair looked different than it had the day before. It had been cut and brushed back off of her ears.
“Let’s be friends for a while,” she said. “See where it goes. See when we’re ready. I don’t even know if my body remembers how to do it.”
“I’ve heard you never forget.”
“Disappointed?”
“Yes and no. Relieved in a way. You want to talk about your husband?”
“Yes, if you want to listen.”
“I want to listen.”
“You want to talk about your wife?”
“I think so.”
“You want to go first?” she asked.
The waiter brought us more tea and I said,
“Catherine. Her name was Catherine.”
ALSO BY STUART M. KAMINSKY
Toby Peters Mysteries
Bullet for a Star
Murder on the Yellow Brick Road
You Bet Your Life
The Howard Hughes Affair
Never Cross a Vampire
High Midnight
Catch a Falling Clown
He Done Her Wrong
The Fala Factor
Down for the Count
The Man Who Shot Lewis Vance
Smart Moves
Think Fast, Mr. Peters
Buried Caesars
Poor Butterfly
The Melting Clock
The Devil Met a Lady
Tomorrow Is Another Day
Dancing in the Dark
A Fatal Glass of Beer
Abe Lieberman Mysteries
Lieberman’s Folly
Lieberman’s Choice
Lieberman’s Day
Lieberman’s Thief
Lieberman’s Law
The Big Silence
Nonseries Novels
When the Dark Man Calls
Exercise in Terror
Biographies
Don Siegel: Director
Clint Eastwood
John Huston, Maker of Magic
Coop: the Life and Legend of Gary
Cooper
Other Nonfiction
American Film Genres
American Television Genres (with
Jeffrey Mahan)
Basic Filmmaking
(with Dana Hodgdon)
Writing for Television
(with Mark Walker)
Porfiry Rostnikov Novels
Death of a Dissident
Black Knight in Red Square
Red Chameleon
A Cold, Red Sunrise
A Fine Red Rain
Rostnikon’s Vacation
The Man Who Walked Like a Bear
Death of a Russian Priest
Hard Currency
Blood and Rubles
Tarnished Icons
The Dog Who Bit a Policeman
Praise for Vengeance
“Not content with creating Toby Peters, Inspector Porfiry Rostnikov, and Abe Lieberman, Kaminsky launches a new series about Lew Fonesca, a process server who drifted to Sarasota after a car killed his wife in Chicago … . Kaminsky pulls off climactic suspense for each [mystery]. The biggest news, though, is his depressed little Lancelot in Levi’s, who’s worth at least a dozen more installments.”
—Kirkus Reviews (pointer review)
“The first episode in a new series by Edgar-winner Kaminsky is a very satisfying, exciting read. Fonesca is a decent, troubled man hoping to recover his emotional focus, in part by forcing himself to care more for his clients than he does for himself. Kaminsky surrounds him with a unique, carefully drawn cast of secondary characters, including a seventy-something former rancher who is handy with guns and lives by the code of the Old West. Readers will be demanding the sequel before they’ve finished the debut.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“The tale spins out nicely, and the book offers a wryly affectionate portrait of Sarasota as well.”
—St. Petersburg Times
“Depressed, middle-aged, and homely, Lew Fonesca seems an unlikely hero, but his sensitivity, common sense, and keen wit make him a likeable, intriguing character. Kaminsky, an old hand at character development, has created several fascinating people for this new series. Fonesca’s budding romance, as well as the superb mystery angle, insure that this series will be a popular one.”
—Romantic Times
“Perhaps it is time to declare award-winning Stuart Kaminsky as the reigning monarch of excellent detective series.”
—Midwest Book Review
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
VENGEANCE
Copyright © 1999 by Stuart M. Kaminsky
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Forge® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
eISBN 9781466803077
First eBook Edition : October 2011
First edition: September 1999
First mass market edition: November 2000
Vengeance Page 25