by Marvin Kaye
I shook my head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Do this much for us, then, for your government, if you find Andorra Stevens, give us a call.” Littlefield took a little leather folder out of his jacket pocket and handed me a business card.
I took it and turned it over in my hands. “I’ll tell you what, if I get the little girl, I’ll call you about her mother.”
He grimaced. “Doherty, you know we could have you locked up.”
“On what charge? Disturbing an investigation? I’d be out in a few hours and Armstrong Stevens would be raising hell with your bosses’s bosses. And where would that leave you?”
Littlefield threw up his hands. “Have it your way, then. But don’t come crying to us to pull you out of the manure pile when you start sinking.”
I tossed my empty coffee container in the waste basket and left.
4
Armstrong Stevens’s building was in a prime section of Park Avenue, its upper floors commanding sweeping views over the shorter, adjacent structures. Central Park to the west, the East River, of course, to the east. Bluebloods wouldn’t have it any other way. The building had twenty-two floors and Stevens’s duplex took up the nineteenth and twentieth. I had called ahead and the concierge was expecting me. After I signed in, I rode a teak paneled elevator up. There were only two units on the nineteenth floor and Stevens was on the right, which also gave him southern views of Manhattan, I guessed with Grand Central Station and the Chrysler Building nearby, the Empire State Building not too far beyond them.
I pressed the door buzzer and a petite olive-skinned woman in a domestic uniform answered.
“My name is Doherty. Mr. Stevens is expecting me,” I told her.
“Adora, who is it?” a female voice sounded from somewhere inside.
Adora motioned for me to enter. “It is Mr. Doherty, for Mr. Stevens,” she said.
“Bring him into the library, please.”
I followed Adora into a large room with three walls lined with floor to ceiling bookcases. The fourth wall was adorned with a massive window that looked out over midtown Manhattan and the East River. I was right, Grand Central Station and the Chrysler Building loomed large on the skyline.
The furniture was a mix of colonial American and what I took to be Korean traditional. In a corner, near the large window was a partner’s desk, which looked like an original Chippendale. Facing it was a hump-backed sofa, with some sort of toile fabric, also looking Chippendale. Seated on the sofa was a slim blonde with bobbed hair, wearing a mid-thigh clingy dress in swirling black, gray, white and off-white patterns, which made her look as if she was arising out of the sea.
“Thank you, Adora,” she said. Standing up, she said to me, “I’m Janet Padavan. You must be the Mr. Doherty that’s helping to find my darling little Suzie.”
I nodded, saying nothing, too busy trying to figure out what she was doing here and what she meant by her “darling little Suzie.” I walked over to the window and looked out.
“Magnificent view, don’t you think?” It was more of a comment than a question.
I turned to look at Janet Padavan and instead found myself focusing on the bookcase opposite me. In a wide niche that split the structure in half, a gilded stone Buddha rested, surveying the room though contemplative eyes. Padavan followed my gaze and smiled.
“It’s striking isn’t it?” she said. “From the late Koryo Dynasty, I believe. One of Mrs. Stevens’s prized possessions. Made of soapstone, it was lacquer-coated and then gilded.”
I walked over to the niche. Below the golden Buddha was a morijang or chest to store socks and such. Early 14th Century, maybe the Yi Dynasty was my limited guess. On its top was a six-sided polished white stone brush holder with inlaid black color character designs, and a black marble ink stone with a folk scene of a scholar drinking under a plum tree. Next to the chest was a stone wash basin, maybe three feet high, also Yi. In front of another bookcase was a polished walnut vitrine. Through the glass top of the vitrine, I could see an aged and frayed Chinese character book, the kind that those privileged enough to become literate could use to practice calligraphy.
“A rather strange mix of furniture, it seems.”
Padavan laughed. “I see you noticed. I wish I could say that all this is a product of an eclectic mind.”
“Instead of?” I walked over to her and looked down into her eyes.
She looked up at me. “Instead of the unlikely aesthetic combination of an arranged blue-blood marriage. The colonial furniture is Mr. Stevens; this apartment was his before the marriage. The Korean objects were inherited by Mrs. Stevens from her father. He was a retired Army officer who had served in Korea. They form the basis of her collection, she’s built a very expensive holding around them. Most of the more valuable pieces are on loan to museums; safer and no insurance premiums to pay.”
“You said they had an arranged marriage.”
She laughed again. “Perhaps I put it a little too crudely. I meant arranged in the manner that old money tends to marry old money, and the gene pool is always thinning.”
“So the families knew each other?”
“Like two peas in a Swiss bank vault.” She sat back down on the sofa and gestured to a spot next to her.
I sat down and draped one arm over the back. “Any reason Mrs. Stevens would pick up and leave?”
“None that I can think of.” She smiled and crossed a pair of delicious looking legs.
“What about this teacher Suzie was supposed to testify against in the disciplinary hearing? Could he have abducted her and her mother?”
Janet laughed. “Dave Schmukler? He hasn’t got the stones, if you pardon my Latin. No, I’m sure he has nothing to do with this.”
I decided to come straight at her. “Why are you here?”
“This whole thing has been hard on Mr. Stevens. I thought I could help out.” She saw the look on my face. “Oh, it’s no bother, I just live across the park.”
“Don’t teachers go away for the summer? Travel, see the Louvre and the Coliseum, things like that?”
“I prefer New York when everyone’s out of town. Besides, the Stevens are happy to have me continue tutoring Suzie. And they pay very well.”
I looked down at the expensive wrist watch she was wearing. “And you can enjoy the finer things, of course.”
“Of course.” She smiled a dazzling smile.
I looked at my watch and took a deep breath. “I was supposed to brief Mr. Stevens.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. He had to run out to a business meeting. Perhaps you can fill me in on the progress of your investigation.”
It was my turn to smile. “I’m following some leads. Nothing solid but they may prove to pan out.”
“That seems awfully vague, not much,” she said.
She was right, it was vague, but I wasn’t going to tell her about the feds’ investigation into Stevens’s business transactions and their interest in finding his wife. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was going to tell Stevens and he was my client. Sort of.
“I’m going to be busy for the next few days.” I wrote out my cell number and gave it to her and asked her to tell Stevens to call me if he wanted an update. “I better get going now,” I said, standing up.
Janet also stood. “Let me walk you to the door.”
As we shook hands, she said, “I wish you all the luck. I’m sure you’ll do a good job. We’re counting on you.” She smiled warmly, then closed the door.
* * * *
There was a marina on the East River in Kips Bay and even though I had called the other day and spoke to the manager, I decided to drive down and scope the scene in person. It was a slow drive though the midday traffic and if Littlefield and Bowman were still tailing me, I didn’t spot it or any other tick that might be
on my back.
It was summer now and the fragrances wafting off the river weren’t honeysuckle or bougainvillea. But, hey, to each his own. If this is what the marina club members wanted so they could show off their magnificent boats to the neighbors, more power to them. Inside, I offered the photo of little Suzie around but no one seemed to recognize her. I left a copy with the manager, my cell phone number scrawled on the back.
I had the list of yacht clubs I had googled and I decided to winnow it down, using my common sense. Andorra Stevens wouldn’t go anywhere she would be recognized by social acquaintances. So I crossed off seven of the most exclusive clubs. She also wouldn’t hide in someplace too downscale for her old money sensitivities. That removed almost thirty more from the list. I was left with a now workable list of thirteen yacht clubs and marinas. I started in Westchester, hitting Larchmont and Mamaroneck, then swinging back south, I crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge and canvassed the north shore of Long Island, starting with Port Washington, then Sea Cliff and Glen Cove, and worked my way east until I reached Cold Spring Harbor. A grizzled salt who was filling up a cutty cabin fishing boat thought he recognized Suzie, he had seen a girl who he said looked like her with a woman in her mid-thirties.
“There’s a c-note waiting if you see her again,” I said. He threw me a gap-toothed smile and said with a whiskey breath that he’d be on the lookout, I could count on him.
I hadn’t eaten all day, so I drove down to Freeport for some seafood and a couple of beers, afterwards hitting a couple of more places on the south shore before calling it a day. Back home, I checked for messages with the service. Nothing. I went through the day’s mail, which consisted of bills and solicitations to spend more of the money I didn’t have. I fed Momma Sweet and Diva, took a hot shower, poured myself a stiff JD on the rocks and hit the bed. Even with the booze to numb me, I couldn’t fall asleep. I kept wondering why Shanahan picked me for this case and what did he know, if anything, about the U.S. Treasury’s investigation of Stevens, the Mayor’s great pal. Just to make sure I stayed awake, I interspersed these worries with visions of Janet Padavan’s luscious legs parading before me.
5
The next morning Momma Sweet and Diva awoke me after about thirty minutes of sleep. My head ached from fatigue and a debate raged inside whether to make some coffee or pour another JD. I decided to be good for a change and opted for the coffee.
When I left the apartment I made sure that the tall guy and Chiefy weren’t around. Everything looked clear so I stepped outside and walked to my Boxster. It was already hot, the weather man said low nineties with high humidity and possible thunderstorms. I wasn’t excited about continuing my canvass so I called my service to see if anything else was up. One message, a number only.
“Doherty?” said a gruff voice when I called back. “Elmer Long. You remember me?”
“Sure. The marina worker in Cold Spring Harbor,” I said.
“Still lookin’ for that little girl?”
“Have you seen her?”
“Are you still offering a c-note?”
“What can you tell me?”
“Can you make it more than a hundred? I got a kid in law school.”
“If it’s good, two bills.”
“Deal,” he cackled. “Well, you know I also work in Huntington Harbor so I’m down there a lot and I got to talking about this little girl. Someone said they had seen a girl just like her steering a sailboat. I said I didn’t believe him, bet him ten dollars he couldn’t show me the boat. Got a pen?”
I wrote down the name of the marina and the description of the boat.
* * * *
My shirt was soaked through and beads of sweat from my forehead rolled down under my sunglasses and stung my eyes. I needed to call Stevens and get him out here to take custody of the kid and swore when I realized that I had left the manila folder with his private number scrawled on it back at the apartment. So I was in no mood to enjoy the fresh salt air when I punched the number into the cell phone. After six rings, Adora answered.
“This is Doherty. I need to speak to Mr. Stevens.”
She told me to wait. A few moments later Janet Padavan picked up the receiver. “Mr. Doherty? Mr. Stevens will be back in a half-hour. Do you have any news?”
“Tell him,” I said, “that I found Suzie.”
“What? Where is she? I can’t believe it. You are so wonderful.”
“Whoa, slow down.” I gave her the address of the marina in Huntington Harbor and the description of the boat. “That’s right, a 57-foot Beneteau. Stevens can’t miss it; I’ll wait at the end of the dock for him.”
“Is she okay?”
“I’m watching the boat now.” As I was speaking, Andorra Stevens came topside and started checking the stays. They were getting ready to sail. “Just tell Stevens to get here now.” I hung up and crouched behind a wooden trash bin. The heat was oppressive and the spot was cramped and I didn’t want to talk with Janet any more than I had to. I just wanted this job to end with my client happy and nobody hurt.
I should have known better.
I was positioned in my observation post so the sun beat down on my neck and back. It was better than in my face but not much better. My legs were cramping up but I couldn’t stand and stretch. It was too risky, Andorra Stevens might spot me. Besides, she might not be alone. I looked at my watch. Forty minutes had passed. Stevens should be here soon. I wiped my eyes, the salty sweat was stinging the corners and forcing me to squint.
A radio crackled and I could hear a female voice. Andorra Stevens. She was a doing a five-by-five, the radio check to make sure that it was working properly before they shoved off. I couldn’t wait any longer for Stevens, I had to make my move now. I scuttled along the dock until I reached the short wooden gangway that led to the Beneteau. Easing up the gangway, I dropped down into a wide on-deck dining area. I hid behind a table, scrunched up under the large steering wheel. If Stevens didn’t get here fast, my options would be only one. When Andorra Stevens and little Suzie came up on deck to cast off, I would grab the girl and run.
The radio was crackling again, raspy noises filtering up through the hatch sounded like a Coast Guard weather report.
Here in the boat, the sun was directly in my face and I had to keep wiping the sweat away, but every so often a breeze came in off the water, making my surveillance tolerable if not pleasurable. I had to stay where I was, it didn’t make sense to go down the hatchway and confront them. Anyone sailing a boat this expensive would keep a firearm on board. Hell, maybe more than one.
Fifteen minutes later, I knew I was right. There was a firearm on board. A pistol. And the barrel was jammed in the back of my neck.
“Stay where you are,” Janet Padavan said. “I know you’re unarmed, I checked the cut of your jacket yesterday at the duplex. So I won’t shoot unless you do something stupid.”
“But that’s my best act,” I said. “Besides, you won’t shoot me here, out in the open. The noise will carry over the water.”
Janet gave a short laugh. “That’s why I’ve got a suppressor. It’ll sound just like another champagne cork popping. Except your blood will be flowing, not fine bubbling wine—from a nice neat hole in the base of your skull—so let’s go down the hatchway and see who’s home.” She prodded me with the gun.
As we edged down the hatchway steps I could hear the radio still crackling and a female voice speaking softly. When we reached the bottom step I found myself looking into a stateroom with long couches on both sides. The fabric covering them was expensive and plush striped pillows adorned the seating surfaces. Suzie Stevens was at a table in front of one of the couches, drinking a soda. I didn’t see her mother.
Janet Padavan pushed me forward with her pistol and Suzie looked up.
“Ms. Padavan.” Suzie stood and started toward us but
froze when she saw the pistol jammed in the nape of my neck. Suddenly, her mother appeared from the side of the room and grabbed her.
“You,” she said to Janet. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough to my family? And who’s he?”
“My name’s Doherty. Your husband retained me to find Suzie.”
Janet waved the barrel of the gun at Andorra Stevens. “Now I know why I dislike you. You talk too much. So take your little brat and sit down on the couch over there and shut up.”
Andorra Stevens glared at her. “I thought you were our friend. We bring you into our home and you steal my husband—and now this?”
Janet flashed her set of perfect white teeth. “You’re married to a billionaire in waiting, you live on Park Avenue, have a cottage in Newport. I spend my days in a classroom filled with snotty-nosed kids and have to tutor little brats for some extra scratch. Friends? We could never be friends.”
“So you take my husband and destroy our marriage?”
“Take your husband?” Janet laughed. “Is that what you think? You really are a stupid cow.” She waved the pistol at Andorra Stevens. “I told you to sit down.”
When the woman and her daughter sat, Padavan looked around. “You live better here, on this boat, than I could ever hope to live as a teacher.” She prodded me with the gun. “Go over there and stand by them, Doherty.”
I walked over to where Suzie sat and let my hand rest on the table, near the glass of soda. I could see Janet was holding a Smith & Wesson automatic in her hand, and she seemed comfortable with it.
She still had a smile on her face as she faced Andorra Stevens. “Your husband is all business. Sure he was attracted to me, we had a few laughs, but he loves you—though I don’t know why—and his hedge fund. So I’ll just have to settle for what you brought with you.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about and Janet could see the bewilderment on my face. “Doherty, are you really that stupid, too?” she said.