Mary, Mary, Shut the Door

by Benjamin M. Schutz

  “Yes, CeCe gave me the address. I know the area. How about eleven-thirty today?”

  “Fine, I’m looking forward to meeting you, Sarah.”

  “And I’m looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Stone.”

  “Rick. Call me Rick.”

  “Okay, Rick, see you then.”

  Tara put down the phone. “Do you have any mouthwash I could use? Just talking to him felt sleazy.”

  Gina laughed. “To know him is to loathe him.”

  “What do I do at the appointment?”

  “Pay him his retainer. Keep it to a minimum for the night. Leave anything else for later. Go along with his plans. Tell him you want to use your car. That’s what Silverman will be looking for. As much as it nauseates me to say it, Rick does know how to do personal protection. It’s not his competence that’s in question, it’s his ethics. Whatever he wants you to do will be good procedure. If you’re really uncomfortable call me afterward and tell me what he said. I’ll tell you if it’s sound or not.”

  I turned to Gina. “Ready?” She nodded. I put the phone to my ear. Stanley reached over and took Tara’s hand.

  “Hello,” a flat voice said.

  “Uh, Mr. Berman, this is Gina Logan calling.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh, well, I didn’t hear from your attorney, so I thought I’d check back with you, see if you’d decided what you wanted to do.”

  “Well, I haven’t decided yet …”

  “I understand. I just thought your attorney would want to know that I can establish a pattern of infidelity, not just one incident.”

  “I don’t understand. I didn’t ask you to work on this case anymore.”

  “Well, I haven’t. It’s just that when I was following your wife last week, I overheard her talking about how much she is looking forward to going out this Friday to celebrate something with her, uh, friend.”

  “Where were they going, did she say?”

  “Yes, uh, let me look it up. I think I have it here. Yes. Simon’s. She said something else about it but that’s the name.”

  “What else did she say?”

  “Look, Mr. Berman, like you said, I’m off the case. I don’t think that information would be useful to anyone. I just thought I’d call to let you know we can make an airtight case against your wife. If you and your lawyer want to.”

  “Right, you just thought you’d drum up a little business for yourself, Ms. Logan. You don’t fool me with that solicitous crap. Let me make it clear to you, you are no longer in my employ. I do not want you sticking your nose into my business. If I want any other work done I’ll call you. Got that?”

  “Loud and clear, Mr. Berman. I’m sorry you feel this way, I was only trying to help.”

  “Good-bye.” He hung up.

  “And fuck you too, you asshole.” Gina’s jaw muscles rolled back and forth under her ears. “I’ll take a double on the mouthwash. You know, I really hate working for assholes.”

  “Well, I think we’re in business. Friday night you’ll go out to Simon’s with Rick Stone. I expect Mr. Silverman to show up and try something in the parking lot. If it all goes well, you’ll have a witness to your harassment by Silverman and Stone will be forced to clean up his own mess.” And a whole lot more, if I get my way.

  Tara checked her watch. “I’d better be going. I’ll call you after my meeting with Mr. Stone.”

  “Fine, I’ll be here in the office until one.”

  Stan Calloway stood up. We shook hands and they left.

  Gina was staring into space when I sat down. “What’s bothering you?”

  “I hate taking shit like that from anybody, even if it’s the smart thing to do.”

  “That’s why it’s important to get paid and paid well for this work. With the assholes, it’s the only satisfaction you get.”

  Friday night arrived as promised. Gina and I were sitting in my car opposite Simon’s lot at six-thirty watching to see if Silverman would show up.

  “What do you think he’ll do?” she asked anxiously.

  “I really don’t know. He may want to keep her out of Simon’s so it won’t be ruined by her eating there, or he may consider it ruined already. This is her first assault on him. I expect he’ll be pretty angry and he’ll make a direct confrontation this time. He’s been pretty careful so far in avoiding consequences for his behavior, so I expect he’ll do something he hopes he can get away with. Up to now that’s been his pattern. That’s your best predictor of future behavior. Not a great predictor, but the best we’ve got. We’re changing some important parameters here, and he could go off in an entirely new direction.”

  “Okay, but what do you think he’ll do? Your best guess?”

  “A direct confrontation outside the restaurant. That’s what I’m counting on.”

  “Isn’t that risky?”

  “Yes, but it offers great rewards, too.”

  I spent the next fifteen minutes scanning the lot for running cars, occupied cars, cars parked facing the exit. If Silverman made his move he’d need to see them come in and ideally be able to make a quick getaway. I pushed away the thought of him hiring someone to do a professional job. The consequences of that response would be disastrous.

  Parking lots leave plenty of room for people to approach unseen between the cars, and getting out of a car is a slow, awkward movement, providing that moment of vulnerability so necessary for a successful attempt at harm.

  “He either does it in the lot or he runs them down on the street, going to the restaurant. That’s a longer shot. I’m still going for the lot,” I said, reassuring myself.

  “Rick will lose any tails he picks up and sweep the car, so I don’t think it’ll happen on the road. No, it’s the lot Car stopped, open, poor visibility. If he’s going to preserve the sanctity of Simon’s he’ll deny her admission. That’s my bet.” My tongue was tossing verbal Valium all over the car. It dissolved on contact but had no effect.

  At five minutes to seven, I pointed to a car parked just down from Simon’s. “Gina, walk over to the restaurant and see what that car’s plates are, also if it looks like Silverman. I’m going to call the restaurant and make sure Silverman or Berman doesn’t have a reservation and isn’t inside already.”

  “Good idea.” Gina got out and walked briskly across the lot. I made two calls while she was gone.

  Gina got back in the car. “It’s not him.” In fact, the car was easing away from the curb. “What about the restaurant?”

  “No reservation for Silverman or Berman. Nor do they have one for people he’s been known to dine with.”

  Tara’s car was pulling into the lot.

  “Showtime.” I picked up the binoculars and scanned the lot again. “Look, over there.” I pointed to a shadow moving low between a row of cars. “Here he comes.”

  Gina reached over and grabbed my arm. We were watching a shark attack coalescing. Each element moving into position, meaningless until the final conjunction. The bait dangling, one leg in the car, one leg out. The shark, a dark shape cutting through the night, picking up speed.

  “Shouldn’t we do something, warn them?” Gina gasped.

  “Too late for that now. Hold on. Here comes the collision.” We braced ourselves as if Silverman was running right at us.

  Silverman sprinted across the aisle toward Tara McKinney. His arm was low and extended. Tara was screaming, her hands to her face. Then she was gone. A black shape rolled across the trunk of the car and slammed into Silverman. He disappeared. Columns of smoke drifted up by the car accompanied by shrill screams.

  “My God, what’s that?” Gina asked.

  My wildest dreams, I thought, but didn’t answer.

  Sirens grew in the distance and two Fairfax County police cruisers pulled into view. One closed off the lot’s exit, the other ventured in toward the screaming. They blocked Tara’s car and turned their searchlights toward the ground. One officer crouched behind the hood, gun extended; the other spoke into a micro
phone.

  “You on the ground. Put your hands up and come on out of there. Anyone in the car, put your hands up and come out one at a time.”

  I motioned to Gina. “Let’s get out and see what happened.” She scooted out of the car, closed the door quietly, and dashed across the street to the corner of the lot. I caught up with her and motioned to the shadows at the foot of the wall. Gina followed me, scuttling sideways between bumpers and bricks to a vantage point directly behind the police cruiser.

  Stan Calloway and then Tara McKinney emerged slowly from the car, their hands overhead. Stan started to speak but was cut off.

  “Hands on the roof and spread ’em. Then you can talk.”

  The other officer came around the cruiser and approached them from the rear.

  First one pair of hands, then another appeared, rising up from the ground. The second pair was still smoking.

  “Jesus Christ,” the cop said and stepped out of the cruiser. “Put ’em on the roof, easy does it, and spread ’em. Get away from each other.”

  Tara and Stan had backed away from the car. The other cop was talking to them.

  Rick was patted down, then Silverman.

  He held up his ruined hands as he was turned away from the car. He was moaning over and over, like a scratched record from hell.

  “John, we can’t cuff this guy. I think he’s burned his hand with acid or somethin’. You better call for an ambulance.”

  The officer speaking to Tara got back into the cruiser.

  “What happened here?” the other cop asked.

  “Look, Officer, my name is Rick Stone, I’ve got ID in my coat. I was hired by—”

  “Stone, Stone. Yeah, you were the guy called in the report.”

  Silverman turned slowly and looked at Rick. He stopped moaning. The dawn of recognition in their faces was beautiful indeed, like someone had opened an umbrella up their asses.

  “You, you set me up. All along. You did this to me!” Silverman waved his hands at Rick. “I’ll kill you, you bastard!”

  The cop pointed his nightstick at Silverman and backed him away from Rick.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rick said. “I’ve never seen you in my life, you psycho!”

  “Liar! Liar! Liar!” Silverman shrieked.

  Rick’s natural aversion to taking responsibility for anything was an easy match for Silverman’s paranoia, especially without two burned hands to distract him. The more Stone did his backstroke in front of the cops, the more it fueled Silverman’s rage.

  Two minutes later, an ambulance pulled into the lot. Two paramedics jumped out and approached Silverman. They gave him an injection and ran an I.V. into him.

  The cop and Rick followed Silverman into the ambulance.

  “Listen,” the cop said. “We appreciate your calling us in on this. A lot of you guys, you get headlines in your eyes, forget that we have to clean up your messes.”

  “Hey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never called you guys.” Stone’s face was white with anger.

  “Liar!” Silverman bellowed from the ambulance. One of the paramedics was kneeling on him, trying unsuccessfully to get him to lie down. “Like you never saw me in your life. I’ll get you, you son of a bitch! Just as soon as I get out of here. You’ll wish you’d never seen me. I’ll fix you. You’ll—”

  A closed door interrupted Silverman’s recitation of things to come. The siren wailed.

  “Honest, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rick reiterated.

  “All I know, your name was on the call-in. We need you and your clients to come over to the station, make statements. Then you can be on your way.”

  “Okay, we’ll be right over,” Rick said, shaking his head even as he agreed.

  The two cruisers pulled away and after a brief conference, Tara, Stan, and Stone got into their car and followed.

  When their taillights blurred in the distance, I stepped out of the shadows. Gina Logan joined me.

  “Well, what do you think?” she said.

  “I think you should savor this moment. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

  Gina shivered. “Is that the good news or the bad?”

  I smiled. “They’re one and the same.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: I’d like to thank Mike Jackson for all his help on this one. He’s the real McCoy and welcome in Leo’s shop any day.

  Mary, Mary, Shut the Door

  Enzo Scolari motored into my office and motioned me to sit. What the hell, I sat. He pulled around to the side of my desk, laced his fingers in his lap, and sized me up.

  “I want to hire you, Mr. Haggerty,” he announced.

  “To do what, Mr. Scolari?”

  “I want you to stop my niece’s wedding.”

  “I see. And why is that?”

  “She is making a terrible mistake, and I will not sit by and let her do it.”

  “Exactly what kind of mistake is she making?”

  “She knows nothing about him. They just met. She is infatuated, nothing more. She knows nothing about men. Nothing. The first one to pay any attention to her and she wants to get married.”

  “You said they just met. How long ago, exactly?” Just a little reality check.

  “Two weeks. Can you believe it? Two weeks. And I just found out about it yesterday. She brought him to the house last night. There was a party and she introduced him to everyone and told us she was going to marry him. How can you marry someone you’ve known for two weeks? That’s ridiculous. It’s a guarantee of failure and it’ll break her heart. I can’t let that happen.”

  “Mr. Scolari, I’m not sure we can help you with this. Your niece may be doing something foolish, but she has a right to do it. I understand your concern for her well-being, but I don’t think you need a detective, maybe a priest or a therapist. We don’t do premarital background checks. Our investigations are primarily criminal.”

  “The crime just hasn’t happened yet, Mr. Haggerty. My niece may be a foolish girl, but he isn’t. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  “And what is that?”

  “He’s taking advantage of her naïveté, her innocence, her fears, her loneliness, so he can get her money. That’s a crime, Mr. Haggerty.”

  And a damn hard one to prove. “What are you afraid of, Mr. Scolari? That he’ll kill her for her money? That’s quite a leap from an impulsive decision to marry. Do you have any reason to think that this guy is a killer?”

  He straightened up and gave that one some thought. Enzo Scolari was wide and thick with shoulders so square and a head so flat he could have been a candelabra. His snow-white eyebrows and mustache hung like awnings for his eyes and lips.

  “No. Not for that. But I can tell he doesn’t love Gina. Last night I watched him. Every time Gina left his side, his eyes went somewhere else. A man in love, his eyes follow his woman everywhere. No, he’s following the maid or Gina’s best friend. Gina comes back and he smiles like she’s the sunrise. And she believes it.

  “He spent more time touching the tapestries than he did holding her hand. He went through the house like a creditor, not a guest. No, he doesn’t want Gina, he wants her money. You’re right, murder is quite a step from that, but there are easier ways to steal. Gina is a shy, quiet woman who has never had to make any decisions for herself. I don’t blame her for that. My sister, God rest her soul, was terrified that something awful would happen to Gina and she tried to protect her from everything. It didn’t work. My sister was the one who died and it devastated the girl. Now Gina has to live in the world and she doesn’t know how. If this guy can talk her into marrying him so quickly, he’ll have no trouble talking her into letting him handle her money.”

  “How much money are we talking about here?”

  “Ten million dollars, Mr. Haggerty.” Scolari smiled, having made his point. People have murdered or married for lots less.

  “How did she get all this money?”

  “It’s in a t
rust for her. A trust set up by my father. My sister and I each inherited half of Scolari Enterprises. When she died, her share went to Gina as her only child.”

  “This trust, who manages it?”

  “I do, of course.”

  Of course. Motive number two just came up for air. “So, where’s the problem? If you control the money, this guy can’t do anything.”

  “I control the money as trustee for my sister. I began that when Gina was still a little girl. Now she is of age and can control the money herself if she wants to.”

  “So you stand to lose the use of ten million dollars. Have I got that right?”

  Scolari didn’t even bother to debate that one with me. I liked that. I’ll take naked self-interest over the delusions of altruism any day.

  “If they’ve just met, how do you know that this guy even knows that your niece has all this money?”

  Scolari stared at me, then spat out his bitter reply. “Why else would he have pursued her? She is a mousy little woman, dull and plain. She’s afraid of men. She spent her life in those fancy girls’ schools where they taught her how to set the table. She huddled with her mother in that house, afraid of everything. Well, now she is alone and I think she’s latched onto the first person who will rescue her from that.”

  “Does she know how you feel?”

  He nodded. “Yes, she does. I made it very clear to her last night.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “She told me to mind my own business.” Scolari snorted. “She doesn’t even know that that’s what I’m doing. She said she loved him and she was going to marry him, no matter what.”

  “Doesn’t sound so mousy to me. She ever stand up to you before?”

  “No, never. On anything else, I’d applaud it. But getting married shouldn’t be the first decision you ever make.”

  “Anyone else that might talk to her that she’d listen to?”

  “No. She’s an only child. Her father died when she was two in the same explosion that killed my father and took my legs. Her mother died in an automobile accident a little over a year ago. I am a widower myself and Gina was never close to my sons. They frightened her as a little girl. They were loud and rough. They teased her and made her cry.” Scolari shrugged as if boys would be boys. “I did not like that and would stop it whenever I caught them, but she was such a timid child, their cruelty sprouted whenever she was around. There is no other family.”