by Stuart Woods
Jeff had very mixed feelings about this, but he had to do it.
61
S TONE WAS RECEIVED AT THE BIANCHI home by Pietro, the butler, and taken straight through the house to a back terrace overlooking extensive gardens. Eduardo Bianchi was seated in a cushioned wrought-iron chair, and he stood to receive his guest.
“Good evening, Stone,” he said warmly, taking Stone’s hand and guiding him to a companion chair. “While the women are talking, I thought we’d have an aperitif out here. It’s such a lovely evening.”
“What would you like, Mr. Barrington?” Pietro asked.
“May I have a Strega, please?”
Pietro beamed his approval and went for the drink.
“It really is a lovely evening,” Stone said. The setting sun and the long shadows across the garden created a quilt of light and shadow. “Your garden is very beautiful.”
“Thank you, Stone,” Bianchi said. “I think it gives me more pleasure than any of my possessions. I am getting to be an old man, and it would comfort me to know that this house and its gardens would fall into appreciative hands when I am gone.”
“I’m sure it will,” Stone replied. “You seem to be in a reflective mood.”
“I find I am reflective more and more often,” Bianchi said. “It is the prerogative of old men, I suppose.”
“You seem anything but old, sir.”
Bianchi managed a small smile. “When you are my age you will find that old age is more than simply one’s physical condition; it is a state of mind. Try as I might, I can no longer think like a young man, or even a middle-aged one. Lucidity in one’s later years is a great gift from God; it gives one the opportunity for endless review: Have I done well in my life? Have I made others happy? Have my sins been forgiven?”
Stone said nothing.
“I had a long talk with Bill Eggers yesterday,” he said, “mostly about you.”
“Bill told me you had lunch,” Stone said.
“I understand that your difficulties with the District Attorney’s Office have been favorably resolved.”
“Yes, that seems to be true. I haven’t spoken to Dino since this morning; he’s questioning Tom Deacon and a police officer about Susan Bean’s murder, and I hope it’s going well.”
“Oh, I think it will go well,” Bianchi said, as if he had certain knowledge of it. “And I think you will have no further problems with this Brougham person.”
“I owe you a great debt,” Stone said.
Bianchi waved a hand. “I do not wish to have my friends indebted to me; if I am able to do a friend a service, then that is its own reward. It should be enough for any man. Besides,” he said, “I am not the sort of person to whom you should owe a debt. You must maintain your independence from all men, especially me.”
Stone didn’t know what to make of this.
“Bill Eggers told me many things about you,” Bianchi said, “and from those things I was able to answer many questions for myself, to create a more complete picture of you as a man. I must say that what I heard fully agreed with my instinctive judgment of you.”
Stone didn’t speak.
“It pleases me to learn that you are an honest man, a loyal friend, and that you have a finely developed sense of justice. I believe that I can use a man like you in many of my business dealings.”
“Eduardo,” Stone said, “I’m grateful for your confidence, but I believe I would rather be your friend than your employee.”
Bianchi smiled broadly, the first time Stone had seen him do so. “Then you continue to justify my confidence,” he said. “You must know how important Dolce is to me.”
“I can understand that,” Stone said, wondering why the conversation was turning to Dolce.
“Her happiness, her stability are as important to me as anything else in my life. Other things—my grandson, for instance—are equally important, but Dolce holds a special place in my heart. She is so very like me; she understands so many things-the moral ambiguities of a rich life, the necessity of justice to success, the proper use of resources. I want very much for her to be a complete woman. Of course, for some time that has been impossible. Now…”
Stone’s cell phone rang. Embarrassed, he dug into his pocket for the instrument. “Eduardo, I apologize, but only a couple of people have this number, and I should answer it.”
“Of course,” Bianchi said. “Please do so.”
“Hello?”
“It’s Dino; are you with Eduardo?”
“Yes.”
“Good thing I called.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain in a minute; that’s how long it will take me to get to his front door. Meet me out front; you’re going to miss dinner.”
“Dino, what the hell is going on?”
“Mitteldorfer has surfaced.”
“I’ll be right there.” Stone closed the phone and stood up. “Eduardo, I’m very sorry, but I’m not going to be able to stay for dinner. That was Dino, and the man we’ve been looking for, the one who threatened Mary Ann and Ben, has turned up. Dino is coming for me now.”
Bianchi stood up. “I understand, Stone. I’m very sorry our conversation was interrupted. I hope we can resume it very soon.”
“Please make my apologies to Dolce and Mary Ann.”
“Of course.”
The two men shook hands, and Stone hurried toward the front door. As Pietro opened it, he heard the police siren growing closer.
62
T HE CAR BARELY STOPPED MOVING FOR Stone to get in. He grappled with his seat belt as Dino spun the car to the left out of the driveway, spraying gravel. “Tell me about it, Dino,” he said, when the car was stable again.
“A doorman at an apartment house on Park Avenue called,” Dino said, roaring around another car, lights flashing, siren wailing. “He recognized Peter Hausman from the sketch in the papers, but it took him some time to get up the nerve to call. Mitteldorfer has been living in his building, under the name of Howard Menzies.”
“He’s sticking with his initials, then.”
“Yeah; maybe he has monogrammed hankies. Anyway, Hausman showed up at the building after we busted his brother. Then, this evening, Mitteldorfer sells his brand-new Mercedes back to the dealer at a big loss, packs up, and heads for Kennedy. Said he was taking his wife’s ashes back to her ’homeland.’”
“And the ashes would be Eloise Enzberg?”
“You guessed it. The doorman recognized her photograph when Andy Anderson showed it to him.”
“So he’s headed for Germany?”
“I’m not counting on it; there are flights leaving for London, Paris, Rome, and half a dozen other cities, in addition to four destinations in Germany, and they’re all going within the next hour. All the passenger lists are being checked for Menzies and Hausman. Andy’s meeting us at the airport; well know more then.” Dino swung right onto the shoulder to get around a truck.
“If we live that long,” Stone said, gritting his teeth. Dino was a fast driver at the most relaxed of times, but an emergency brought out the Fanzio in him. “Did you crack Deacon?”
“Nope; couldn’t get a word out of him; he’s too smart for that.”
“Shit!”
Dino grinned. “But I cracked Mick Kelly like an egg; cut him a deal.”
“Can Kelly hang it on him?”
“You bet he can. Deacon had blood on his shirt cuffs when Kelly saw him after the murder. He blackmailed Deacon for a spot in the DA’s Office. He’s lucky Deacon didn’t cut his throat.”
“Good going, Dino! What about Brougham?”
“He had to know about the doctored tape, but we won’t get him unless Deacon testifies against him. He’s already resigned, though.” Dino was cutting cross-country, avoiding the Long Island Expressway, cutting through residential neighborhoods and commercial districts.
Stone noted that their speed had never dropped below sixty, and at times was more than eighty. It was as
fast as he’d ever traveled in an urban area.
“How did your conversation with Eduardo go?” Dino asked.
“Don’t talk, drive,” Stone said.
“I drive better when I talk,” Dino said, jumping the curb and cutting across the lawn of a corner house to avoid a delivery truck. “What did he have to say?”
“He said he thought that Brougham would never be a problem again.”
“Yeah, he would be happy about that, wouldn’t he? Now Dante will get a new trial, and Eduardo can take credit for it with the goombahs.”
“We couldn’t have broken this without him,” Stone said. “You might remember that.”
“Yeah, it sort of takes the thrill away, you know?” Dino hit the six-lane approach to Kennedy, driving down the shoulder past heavy traffic. “Did Eduardo propose?”
“Propose what?”
“Marriage.”
“What are you talking about, Dino?” Stone asked, closing his eyes tightly as they veered around a disabled car on the shoulder.
“You know what he’s doing, don’t you? He’s arranging a marriage for Dolce.”
“Dino, Dolce is already married.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Somebody capped Johnny Donato this afternoon.”
Stone froze. “You’re kidding; tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“Who did it?”
“We’ll probably never know, but I wouldn’t have a heart attack if somebody told me it was Dolce herself. It was a straight mob hit, two rounds to the back of the head.” Dino chuckled.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sure, it is,” Dino said. He swung onto the drive to the international terminal and screeched to a halt. Andy Anderson came running to meet them.
“I’ve alerted airport security,” he said. “Here comes their chief, now.”
A man in a dark suit approached. “Lieutenant Bacchetti? I’m Sam Warren, head of airport security. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“You’ve seen the pictures?”
Warren nodded. “They’re being distributed to my people now, but from what I’ve heard of the timing, these two guys are already past security and into the departure area. We’re talking about twenty-five gates, and there’s at least one flight leaving from every one of them between now and midnight.”
“Shut them down,” Dino said.
“Beg pardon?”
“No flight leaves until we’ve searched it.”
“Jesus, Lieutenant, I can’t put a hold on twenty-five flights. Do you have any idea what that would do the system? People will be missing connecting flights all over Europe. It can’t be done.”
“Yeah, what happens when it snows?”
“Well, there are flight delays, of course.”
Dino pointed to a window. “Man, look at that snow! It’s a regular blizzard!”
“Lieutenant…”
“Listen, Sam, we’ve got two murderers on the loose in your airport, with six killings between them. Are you going to be responsible for letting them get out of the country?”
Warren said nothing; he was thinking about it.
“Andy,” Dino said, “how many people we got here?”
“About a dozen; there are fifty more on the way, but the traffic…”
“Yeah, yeah, tell me about it. Let’s do the flights to Germany first. Have you checked the reservations?”
“There’s no Menzies or Hausman on any departing flight,” Anderson said.
“So they’ve got backup passports; that makes it harder.”
“Andy,” Stone said, “check for the initials H.M.; start with the flights to Germany.”
“Good idea,” Dino said. “Do it, Andy. Call me when you’ve got an answer.”
“All right,” Warren said. “I’ll do it.” He spoke into a handheld radio. “Base, this is Warren.”
“Yes, chief?”
“I want a code red on all departing international flights. Nothing moves from a gate until I say so.”
“Roger, chief; what about taxiing aircraft?”
“Stop and hold everything international on my authority. I’ll get back to you.”
“Follow me,” he said to Dino.
The four men began jogging toward the security gates.
Anderson peeled off and picked up an emergency phone.
“Where are the rest of my people?” Dino asked Warren.
“They’re combing the departure lounges, trying to get a match on the pictures.”
Warren got them through the security barriers, and they ran toward the departure areas.
“Let’s go directly to the airplanes, Dino,” Stone said.
“I’ve already got people at the security barriers,” Warren said. “If they’re in here, they can’t get out, except on an airplane, and we’ve fixed that. The flights to Germany leave from the next four gates; if they haven’t boarded yet, then we should check the lounges.”
They entered the first lounge, where boarding was being announced. Warren took the microphone from a uniformed woman and announced that boarding would be delayed for five minutes.
“Dino,” Stone said, “give me your backup piece.”
Dino reached down to an ankle holster and handed Stone a snub-nosed .38 revolver; Stone tucked it into his belt. They began walking rapidly up and down the rows of waiting travelers. Stone looked at every male face, looked for short-haired young men, looked for Herbert Mitteldorfer.
Andy Anderson ran up to them, breathless. “Lieutenant,” he said, “there’s a Heinz Müller on the flight two gates down. He’s the only male with those initials on a flight to Germany.”
Dino grabbed Sam Warren and beckoned to Stone. “Let’s go!” he yelled.
63
T HE FOUR MEN RAN DOWN THE HALLWAY, shoving travelers out of the way, and burst into the second departure lounge. It was empty, except for a young woman at the ticket counter.
Warren ran up to her. “How long has the flight been gone?” he demanded, flashing a badge.
She looked at her watch. “Twenty minutes,” she said.
“Oh, no.” Stone groaned.
Warren grabbed a telephone and punched in a number. “Tower? This is Sam Warren, head of security; let me speak to a supervisor.” He waited for a moment. “This is Sam Warren in security; I’m at Gate Eighteen; Flight 104 to Berlin taxied from the Gate Twenty minutes ago. Is it still on the ground?” He waited again. “Great! Have it return to the gate; tell the pilot to announce a mechanical problem that will take only a few minutes to fix; tell the passengers they’ll have to get off the airplane, but they can leave their belongings.” He hung up. “It’s on the way back to the gate,” he said to the group. “I’m going to have all the passengers deplane, and we can check them as they get off.” He turned to the woman at the desk. “I want you to check them off the manifest as they leave the airplane. Don’t let anybody get past you.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
The four men caught their breath while they waited for the airplane to return to the gate. Dino dispatched Andy Anderson to have his other men check the other German flights.
“I hope to God this is the flight,” Dino said, pacing up and down the lounge.
“He’s stuck with his initials so far; why should he change now?” Stone said.
More minutes passed. “Here comes the airplane,” Sam Warren said, pointing out the window.
Anderson came back. “The other German flights are clean,” he said. “If this isn’t the one, then well have to search all the international flights.”
Warren got on his radio. “Base, this is Warren; you can release all the flights to Germany, except 104; we’re checking that now.”
Other cops arrived and took up positions at the gate. Stone and Dino walked down the flexible ramp and were waiting at the aircraft door when it was opened from inside by a flight attendant.
Stone and Dino took up positions on each of the two aisles and searched t
he faces of the passengers making their way toward the exit.
Stone emptied his mind of all the faces except those of young men with very short hair and small middle-aged men. He had the feeling he was very close to Mitteldorfer, and he watched each passenger’s face for signs of tension or recognition. Mostly, he saw fatigue and annoyance; then he locked eyes momentarily with a young man. He was short, stocky, wearing baggy black clothing, and, disappointingly, he had long hair. He looked away from Stone and continued up the aisle.
Stone had shifted his attention to passengers farther down the aisle when he heard a woman scream and a scuffle behind him. He was turning to see what the matter was when he experienced a hard blow to his left shoulder. His initial reaction was surprise at how much pain the blow was causing. He continued turning to find the young man in black with his fist raised above his head. He tried to raise his left arm to ward off the blow and, to his shock, could not. Everything was happening in slow motion.
He saw now that the young man held a small knife in his raised fist, and he was bringing it down toward Stone’s face. As he did, the young man suddenly jerked and fell sideways, as if someone had yanked him. Blood spurted from his neck, and only then did Stone hear the gunshot. He turned to see Dino, his arm outstretched, a pistol in his hand.
Passengers were screaming; some threw themselves to the floor, others rushed past or over them, trying desperately to get off the airplane. Dino fought his way across the cabin, gun in hand, pointed down at the prostrate figure of the young man, who was twitching and grimacing. Beside him, in the aisle, Stone saw a bloody kitchen knife with a four-inch blade.
“Get these people out of here!” Dino shouted to Sam Warren. “I want the airplane cleared, and I want medical assistance here now!” As the last of the passengers rushed past them, Dino finally got to Stone. “Sit down,” he said.
“What?”
“Sit down right here in this seat; you’ve been stabbed. Wait a minute; first get your coat off.”