Loretta studied Alan’s profile as Marvelli tried to make chitchat with him. Maybe Alan really was a mad bomber, she thought.
“Hey, thanks for taking us in,” Marvelli said to Alan.
“Sure, no problem. It’s great to have company.” He snuck a glance at Loretta, and she saw him doing it, which made her very depressed. She knew a crush when she saw one.
“This is Gus,” Marvelli said, drawing Rispoli into the conversation and purposely leaving his last name out.
“Hi, Gus,” Alan said.
Rispoli just grunted, his eyes darting around the living room. He was probably checking the place out, looking for something he could steal.
“I figured out the sleeping arrangements,” Alan said eagerly. “You guys can take my room. I’ll sleep on the couch. And there’s a futon in the computer room that you can use … Loretta.” His voice trailed off as he said her name, too bashful to say it out loud. Loretta imagined him pivoting on his big toe with a bouquet of daisies in his hand as he looked at the ground and tried to work up the nerve to tell her what was in his heart.
Oh, God, spare me, she thought, feeling both guilty and repulsed at the same time. Alan was a sweet guy, but come on, he was no girl’s fantasy.
Alan took a tentative half step closer to her. “They won’t bother you,” he said. “They don’t make any noise.”
“Excuse me?” She couldn’t figure out what he was talking about.
“My computers,” he said. “They only make a little noise, just when they’re backing up, that’s all. But I’ll turn them off if you want.”
“No, no, that’s all right,” she said. He was letting her sleep with his prized possessions. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. No telling what sexual fantasies he’d have thinking about her being in the same room with his beloved computers. And he’d just be a few feet away, sleeping out here on the dead elephant. This was a bad arrangement, she decided. Why not put Rispoli in with the motherboards, and she and Marvelli could share Alan’s room? That would be nice.
Fat chance, she thought, smirking to herself. Never in a million years. First of all, they couldn’t let Rispoli out of their sight. And second, she and Marvelli—
She let out a long sigh. It wasn’t even worth thinking about.
Suddenly Loretta detected the scent of fresh coffee, and she imagined a coffeemaker dripping out its hot nectar into a clear glass pot. She wanted a cup so badly. The fatigue she was feeling wasn’t as bad as it had been, and she wasn’t having headaches anymore, but she still had the cravings, especially when she smelled it. Staying here was going to be a problem if Alan mainlined the stuff.
Rispoli wandered off into the computer room, and Alan looked very concerned, following right after him. He obviously didn’t want anyone touching his computers.
When they were out of the room, Loretta whispered to Marvelli, “Is this gonna work out?”
He shrugged. “It’s got to. Where else can we go?”
“How about another hotel?”
He made a face and fluttered his hand. “Too risky. I thought about going to Jennifer’s apartment, but Taffy probably knows where that is. She’s listed in the book.”
Loretta nodded in agreement. “Anyway, how would we have gotten in?”
“I’ve got a key.”
“You’ve got a key to her apartment?” Loretta tried to be nonchalant about it.
“Yeah, Jennifer gave it to me. You know, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Loretta asked. “You know, an emergency.”
What kind of emergency? Loretta wondered jealously. Jennifer was definitely after him—Loretta was convinced.
Through the doorway, Loretta could see Alan showing Rispoli how his computers worked. Alan was sitting at one of the long tables with Rispoli standing over his shoulder. The hit man looked curious but skeptical.
“What’re you—I mean, we—gonna do about Jennifer and Annette?” Loretta asked.
Marvelli shook his head. “I don’t know. If we go to the police and tell them the whole story, the feds could get wind of it and come after us. But Taffy is a ruthless SOB. If we don’t do something, then Jennifer and Annette might get …” He didn’t have to say the rest.
“How about if we offer him a deal?” Loretta suggested.
Let him keep Jennifer, she thought.
“What kind of deal?” Marvelli seemed dubious.
“Tell him we’ll make the exchange. Jennifer and Annette for Rispoli. That’s the only way to flush out Sammy.”
“But what about him?” Marvelli nodded toward Rispoli. “We can’t use him as bait. He’ll be dead the minute they see his face.”
Loretta shrugged. “We’ll just have to figure something out so it doesn’t get that far.”
“Talk like that makes me nervous, Loretta. I’d rather have a definite plan.”
“You got one?”
“No, but I think—”
Suddenly Marvelli’s cell phone rang. His eyes widened as he pulled it out and stared at it for a moment without answering it.
Loretta felt a bolt of panic shoot through her stomach. She wasn’t worried about them screwing up; she was afraid of what might happen if this all worked out and they ended up saving Jennifer. Would the whole experience drive her closer to Marvelli, her big hero?
Marvelli flipped the phone open and pressed the answer button. “Hello,” he said abruptly.
Loretta pulled on his wrist and put her head next to his so that she could listen in. She could feel his hair against hers.
“Mr. Marvelli. I think we should talk.”
“So talk, Taffy,” Marvelli said.
“In person, I mean.”
“Why?”
“Because I like to deal with people face-to-face.”
“How do I know you’re not trying to set me up?”
“You don’t know.”
“Then why should I meet you?”
“Because you like these lovely ladies I’ve got here with me and you’d like to see them again.”
Marvelli didn’t answer. “Where?” he asked.
“The aquarium.”
“Where’s that?”
“I dunno. Down by the water somewhere. Ask around.”
“When?”
“Half an hour. Don’t make me wait.”
“How—?”
Taffy hung up.
Loretta looked Marvelli in the eye. She was worried. “You’re not gonna go, are you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
She didn’t want him to go. The twins would be there. Sammy Teitelbaum, too. She was afraid of what they might do.
Marvelli called through the doorway into the computer room. “Alan? How do I get to the aquarium from here?”
Before Alan could answer, Rispoli rushed back into the living room. “You gonna go out?” he asked. “Bring me back something to eat. A steak sandwich. Well done.”
Loretta got in his face. “Cool it, Gus.”
He frowned and looked hurt. “But I’m hungry. Ain’t you ever gonna feed me?”
Loretta closed her eyes and counted to ten before she murdered him. Her headache was back. She needed coffee so bad.
22
Special Agent Veronica Springer stood in the watery shadows of the walkway that encircled the Seattle Aquarium’s four-thousand-gallon tank. She was watching Marvelli, who was standing below her in front of the tank, scanning the crowds of tourists as they ogled the fish, anxiously looking for Taffy Demaggio. Behind him, a school of silvery tuna abruptly changed direction, then changed direction again as a snaggled-toothed, eight-foot tiger shark glided into their path. The shark’s eyes were empty and emotionless.
As Springer watched Marvelli, her stomach churned acid. She was thinking about Taffy and how dumb he was. Kidnapping those two women was a monumentally stupid move. She could’ve killed him when he’d told her about it. She was so upset, she felt like eating something, anything.
But it was nervous eating
that had gotten her into trouble before and made her as big as a house. She quickly reached into the pocket of her blazer for her diet pills and shook one out of the bottle, popping it into her mouth and swallowing it dry as she started walking toward Marvelli.
So stupid, she kept thinking to herself. Incredibly stupid.
Wavy blue-green light slithered across the carpeting as she moved closer to Marvelli. She slowed her pace, wondering how she should handle him. Thank God she just happened to call Taffy when she did, and thank God he’d told her about the women and meeting Marvelli. These women must be good-looking, Springer assumed. Why else would Taffy agree to stay put and let her handle this mess? If the women had been dogs, he would’ve come himself and really screwed things up. This was one time that she was grateful that Taffy’s brains were in his pants.
“Officer Marvelli,” she said, coming up behind him.
He whipped around and stared at her, obviously confused by her presence here.
“I happened to be driving by when I saw you coming in. Where’s Rispoli?”
He kept staring at her. That stony Italian look of suspicion was petrified on his face. They all had it—Taffy, Rispoli, Marvelli, all of them.
“What do you mean, you were just driving by?”
“I’ve been waiting to hear from you,” she said firmly. “Where’s Rispoli?” Always trump indignation with more indignation. Don’t let him feel that he has an issue, and don’t back down.
“What, were you following me?” he said. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
She stared him in the eye. “I want to know where Rispoli is.”
He didn’t flinch. “I’m supposed to be meeting Taffy Demaggio here. You been talking to him?”
Acid rampaged through Springer’s stomach like white water. Deny, she told herself. Don’t back down.
She lowered her voice. “If you don’t tell me where Rispoli is right now, I’m putting you under arrest.”
“Oh, yeah? I’d like to see you try.”
Testosterone, she thought, the spaghetti sauce of the Italian male sausage.
“Where is Rispoli?” she repeated. She unbuttoned her blazer as if she were going to go for her gun. She had to call his bluff.
But Marvelli was unmoved. “Demaggio’s got my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law. Where are they?”
“How should I know?”
He just stared at her. He didn’t have to say that he believed she knew exactly where the women were and that she was in cahoots with Taffy. Which was true, but so what? Marvelli was a minor player in this opera. He didn’t matter. She kept telling herself that. Marvelli was a spear carrier; she was the diva. He had to shut up; this was her aria.
“Look,” she said, “you seem to be under some kind of misconception that I’m in league with Taffy Demaggio—”
“You saying you’re not?” he interrupted.
“You’re damn right I’m saying I’m not,” she shot back. “Now, if you want my help in getting your relatives back, you had better change your tune and stop insulting me.”
They stared at each other with venom in their eyes, neither one willing to back down. All of a sudden she began to feel a little more awake. The diet pills were kicking in.
Neither of them said anything. She wasn’t sure what to throw at him next. Her stomach was in agony. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that tiger shark circling the tank again. Priorities, she kept thinking. She had to get her priorities straight. Marvelli and his tubby partner were nothing to her. They were expendable. They were just a nuisance. She had to get rid of them.
But how?
The shark was gliding very slowly. Springer glanced at its eye. There was nothing there, no emotion, no intention. That’s how she had to be, she decided. Focused, lethal in and of herself.
What was the goal? she asked herself.
Killing Rispoli so that Taffy flips, and get the credit, she thought.
But how do we do it?
Let Taffy handle it. He has his people on it. That’s his part of the deal.
But what about Marvelli and what’s-her-name?
Use them.
How?
Let them take the rap.
How?!
Rispoli’s their responsibility. If he gets killed under their watch, they should take the blame. In fact, they probably will take the blame because Taffy’s hit man is Marvelli’s brother-in-law. It’ll look like a conspiracy, a family affair. The parole officers from New Jersey conspired with Sammy Teitelbaum to kill Rispoli.
Why would they do that?
Money. Why else? Sammy offered them cash for Rispoli’s whereabouts. It makes perfect sense.
She thought about it for a second. If Marvelli and his partner take the rap for Rispoli’s murder, that takes the heat off Taffy.
Just one problem, though, she thought.
“Where’s Rispoli?” she asked Marvelli.
“Where’s Jennifer and Annette?” Marvelli responded.
The tiger shark slid by. It was just three feet away. Springer didn’t dare break eye contact with Marvelli to look at it, but she could feel the shark looking at her. She took it as a sign of support.
23
Loretta glanced at her watch, then gazed at the oversized computer screen in front of her. She was in the computer room at Alan Winslow’s apartment. Alan was sitting next to her, working the keyboard. Rispoli was on the futon, lying on his back with his eyes closed and his fingers linked over his belly.
The computer screen was a patchwork quilt of open widows, so many that Loretta couldn’t focus on any one of them. None of it made any sense to her. “I thought the Internet was supposed to be fun,” she said to Alan.
Alan’s face fell. “Y-y-you’re not having fun?” he stammered.
“Well … I mean, what is all this?” Loretta realized that he was trying to impress her, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but this was incredibly boring. She sighed, wondering why all the Mr. Wrongs were attracted to her. But she felt bad thinking that because Alan was decent enough—he was just … boring.
No offense, Alan, but I can do better, she said to herself. I can definitely do better. I hope.
She glanced at her watch again, wishing Marvelli would get back soon. She wished a lot of things about Marvelli, but right now she just wished he’d save her from Alan’s guided tour of the Net.
Alan moved the mouse, clicking here and there, closing windows and opening new ones. “Let me show you something really neat. Have you ever used Java?”
She just looked at him. “Yes. Once upon a time. A long time ago.” She could’ve used a cup of java just to stay awake.
“Well, you’ll like this,” Alan said eagerly. “I mean, I think you will. I mean—”
“Hey!” An unfamiliar voice from the doorway startled them both. A scrawny guy in his late twenties with bad posture, a buzz cut, and black horn-rimmed glasses with tinted lenses was standing in the doorway. He was holding two big black automatics, one trained on Loretta and Alan, the other on Rispoli, who was fast asleep on the futon.
Loretta recognized him right away. It was Sammy Teitelbaum. Oh crap! she thought.
“Hands where I can see ’em,” Sammy said. “You know, just like in the movies.”
Worry lines scored Alan’s forehead. “H-h-how’d you get in here?” he demanded.
“Through the door,” Sammy said. “You ought to get a better lock.”
“This is Seattle, not N-N-New York,” Alan complained.
Sammy shrugged. “C’est la vie, baby.”
“So how’d you find us?” Loretta asked. She wanted to get him talking before he killed all three of them. Her gun was in a fabric holster Velcroed to her ankle under her pant leg. If she had any hope of getting to it, Sammy would have to be distracted. Of course, with him carrying two guns, she’d have to drop him in one shot or suffer the consequences. She was a good shot, but she wondered if she was good enough. “How’d you know we were here?”
she asked, consciously keeping her hands in her lap.
“I’ve been following you and Frankie since you first got here,” he said with a proud grin. “I was waiting for you two at the airport.”
“Congratulations. You’re very conscientious,” she said.
“Thank you.” He seemed genuinely grateful for the compliment even though she didn’t mean it that way. “You know, I even followed you out to My Blue Heaven.”
“We didn’t see anyone following us,” Loretta said.
“Well, actually I was already there waiting for you. In a sailboat.”
Loretta’s eyes shot open. Springer! she thought angrily. That little bitch. She’s been feeding him information.
“Who told you where My Blue Heaven is?” Loretta demanded. “A woman FBI agent named Springer maybe?”
Sammy shrugged. “Never heard of her. Taffy told me where to go.”
And Springer must’ve told him, Loretta thought. That dirty little so-and-so.
Rispoli stirred from his sleep and sat up on his elbows. Sammy’s head snapped around as he honed in on his primary target. Rispoli glared up at the young hit man, blinking his eyes to get them to focus. He was still half-asleep and grouchier than ever. “What the hell you gonna do with those things?” he grunted. He sounded like a frog from the Bronx.
Double Espresso (A Loretta Kovacs thriller) Page 16