by Stuart Woods
“I’ll personally see to it that he never does that again,” Dino said.
“Oh, I don’t want you to get involved with him; he can be dangerous.”
Dino flashed his badge. “Allow me to introduce myself; it’s Lieutenant Dino.”
“Oh, good, then you can shoot him.”
“Only if I get the chance.”
“Dino has Daltry under surveillance as we speak,” Stone said.
“I hope you catch him doing something criminal,” Genevieve said.
“I hope so, too,” Dino said. “I’ve already charged him with something minor; now I’m hoping for something major.”
Willa Bernstein sat at the bar with Devlin Daltry, sipping single-malt Scotch. “Mmmm, this is a lot better than that Queens wine at the gallery.”
“Certainly is. Willa seems an odd name for a Jewish girl.”
“My mother was reading Willa Cather-Death Comes for the Archbishop-when I was born, and I’m not Jewish. My father is, but Jewish identity is passed down through the female line, and my mother is Episcopalian. So am I.”
“My mistake.”
“Everybody makes it. When are you having another show?”
“I opened one a couple of weeks ago, but it’s sold out, so we’re closing it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’d love to have seen it.”
“I have a number of pieces at my studio. Maybe I can show them to you after dinner.”
“I’d like that,” she said.
The headwaiter came over. “Your usual table is ready, Mr. Daltry. May I take your drinks over?”
“Of course, Eddie. We’re right behind you.”
They stood up and followed the man toward the table.
“I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m so tall,” Willa said. “It bothers a lot of men.”
“Not in the least,” Daltry replied smoothly. “In fact, I’m rather partial to tall women.”
Dino’s cell phone rang again. “Excuse me,” he said, flipping it open. “Bacchetti.”
“It’s Bernstein, Lieutenant.”
“Update?”
“They’ve just sat down to dinner. He’s already invited her to his studio afterwards, and she’s accepted. Do you want us to let her do that?”
Dino thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “She’s doing a great job so far; we have to believe she can take care of herself if she goes back to his place.”
“Well, she’s half again as big as he is,” Bernstein said. “She ought to be able to handle him.”
“Joe Dowdell and Hank Ortega are in the other car, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you just be sure that the four of you-sorry, five, I forgot about Pointer-are ready to go in there pronto if anything happens. She’s got a code word if she gets into trouble, right?”
“Yes, Lieutenant. She’ll say ‘My back hurts’ if she needs us.”
“As soon as they’re inside his building, find a way in; it’ll save time if she needs help.”
“Will do, Lieutenant.”
Dino hung up, and Genevieve was staring at him oddly. “Am I to understand that you have a female police officer who’s going to Devlin Daltry’s studio?”
“Yes, I do,” Dino said.
“Well,” Genevieve said, “I think that’s a very big mistake.”
“What?” Dino asked.
“I went there once, and I almost didn’t get out alive. And believe me, I know how to take care of myself.”
53
Stone’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the caller I.D. number. “Hello?”
“It’s Dierdre.”
“Hi.”
“Dattila’s out of jail.”
“What?”
“His lawyer got a judge to release him, based on the fact that, since Gus’s death and Herbie’s disappearance, we have no witnesses against him.”
“But there’s the tape of Dattila ordering Herbie’s death.”
“The lawyer claimed they would show at trial that it’s fabricated.”
“Did Dattila buy a judge or something?”
“I don’t think the judge can be faulted. Dattila’s lawyer is right, except about the tape. It’s not fabricated, is it?”
“No, it’s genuine.”
“Have you heard from Herbie?”
“Not a word.”
“I know I’m not supposed to say this about my witness, but tell him he’d be smart to leave town. Dattila is going to spare no effort to see him dead. We got a tip that word has gone out to his people all over town: There’s a hundred grand on Herbie’s head.”
“There ought to be a hundred grand on Dattila’s head.”
“This is my third try at getting the guy, and I’ve never even gone to trial.”
“I can imagine how you must feel.”
“No, you can’t. If you hear from Herbie, tell him to scamper. After what happened at the hotel I’m not at all sure we can protect him.”
“I’ll give him the message.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.” Stone hung up and turned to Dino. “Dattila is out, and if what Dierdre says is true, Herbie’s as good as dead.”
Willa watched while Devlin Daltry unlocked three deadbolts on a huge steel door and let them into his building. They were on the ground floor, which was being used as a garage. Daltry pressed a button, and a freight elevator descended.
“That’s a very big elevator,” Willa said, for the benefit of her colleagues.
“Some of my pieces are of heroic proportions,” Daltry said, as they started up. “I couldn’t get them out of the studio without this.”
She counted three floors as they rose. “You live and work on the top floor?”
“Yes.”
“What’s on the others?”
“Not much, some office help on one. I’m thinking of converting the other two to lofts and selling them.”
They stopped at the fourth floor and stepped into an enormous room.
“My goodness,” Willa said, actually overwhelmed. The space was furnished as a living room, and at the other end she could see a professional-style kitchen. “This is fantastic.” She pointed at the kitchen. “You must do a lot of cooking.”
“I don’t cook at all, actually, but I need the kitchen for parties. The caterers love it. Come, I’ll show you my studio.”
They walked for perhaps half a block and passed through huge double doors into an artist’s studio that she could not have imagined. First of all, contrary to her notion of what an artist’s studio was like, it was spotlessly clean and extremely neat. Double-height windows rose to receive the north light, and scattered around the space were pieces of Daltry’s work, some already cast, some still in clay.
“You are obsessively neat, aren’t you?” Willa said.
Daltry seemed to take umbrage at the characterization. “I am not obsessive about anything,” he said defensively. “I simply like to live in an orderly world.”
Willa’s attention was riveted on a bronze of a very tall woman, missing its head. “What is that?”
“Oh, I was unhappy with the way the head turned out, so I’m going to redo it.”
“After it’s already cast?”
“It can be done. Would you like to see the rest of my home?”
“Yes, thank you. Is there still another level?”
“Yes. The elevator only goes to the fourth floor, but the stairs lead one more flight up.”
“Don’t go to his bedroom,” Bernstein said into her ear.
“Is that where your bedroom is?”
“Yes, but there’s more. I don’t need the sort of living spaces that occupy this floor; they’re just for work and entertaining. There’s another complete apartment upstairs.”
“Don’t do it,” Bernstein said.
“I’d love to see it,” she said to Daltry.
Dino’s cell phone rang. “Bacchetti.”
“Boss, it’s Bernstei
n. She’s inside Daltry’s place, and against my advice, she’s going up to the level where his bedroom is.”
“Are you inside yet?”
“We’re having hell’s own time getting in. There are three Assa locks in a steel door, and we haven’t been able to pick even one of them. A crowbar didn’t work, either.”
“Then break a goddamned window or something,” Dino said. “Be a burglar! His alarm system probably isn’t on while he’s home.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Dino hung up. “She’s locked inside Daltry’s building with him, and my people are having a hard time getting in.”
“Oh, my God,” Genevieve said. “I hope she’s armed.”
“I hope she is, too,” Dino said. “Since she’s undercover, she may not be.”
Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s me.”
“Herbie! Where the hell are you? Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not, and I’m not about to tell you where I am. The last time I told you where I was I nearly got killed.”
“Herbie, I didn’t tell anybody where you were. In fact, you never told me, remember?”
“Well, somebody knew, and he told Dattila.”
“What happened there, Herbie?”
“I didn’t like the food and stuff, so I was going to sneak out for something, so I turned on the shower and got dressed. I heard somebody yell in the next room, so I hid in a closet, and I saw this guy come into the bedroom with a gun. While he was in the bathroom, I got the hell out of there.”
“It’s good that you did. Now, listen. I talked to the D.A. a few minutes ago, and she says that you should get out of town, that she’s not sure she can protect you.”
“Well, that’s pretty clear, isn’t it?” Herbie yelled. “You said I’d be safe in the hotel; not even the two cops were safe.”
“It gets worse, Herbie. Dattila is out of jail, and word is he’s put out a very large contract on you. He’s probably got a couple of hundred people on the street looking for you right now. You’ve got money, haven’t you?”
“I’ve got about twelve hundred dollars.”
“My advice is take a cab to New Jersey-don’t go to the Port Authority Terminal or to Grand Central or Penn Station-just get to Jersey and get a bus out of there to anywhere.”
“Your advice hasn’t been very good so far, Stone.”
“What are you talking about? If you’d taken my advice and not sued Dattila none of this would have happened!”
But Herbie had already hung up.
54
Willa walked up the curving staircase with Daltry holding her hand.
“I think you’ll like my living quarters,” he was saying.
They emerged into a handsomely furnished living room with cream-colored paneled walls, crown moldings and many pictures and sculptures.
He led her to the bar and was pouring them a drink when the phone rang. Daltry looked at the instrument on the bar and muttered something under his breath. “Excuse me,” he said, “I’ve got to take this call.” He picked up the phone. “What is it?” he said without preamble, then he listened for a moment. “Jerry, I’ve told you repeatedly how important it is for you to stay where you are and not go out for a while. You’ve got enough groceries to last a month, and enough to drink, too.” He listened some more. “I don’t care. I want you to do as I say, or I won’t be able to protect you. Don’t you understand?” More listening. “Jerry, do you want to go to prison? I didn’t think so. Well, that’s the alternative to doing as I say, at least for a little while. Look, I’ve got somebody here at the moment. I’ll come up there tomorrow morning, and we’ll work something out. I promise.” He hung up.
“Some people never listen,” Willa said.
“You’re right about that. I have this friend who’s gotten himself into a jam, and I’m trying to help him, but he just won’t be helped. Will you pour us a drink? I need the powder room.”
“Of course.” Willa filled two glasses with ice and made to pour. The moment Daltry was out of sight she checked the many buttons on the phone and found one that read “Log.” She pressed it. “Bernstein, did you hear that conversation?” she whispered.
“Every word.”
“Write down this number.” She read it out to him. “It appears four other times today in his phone log.”
“I’ll check it out.”
She pressed the button again, and the log disappeared, then she poured the drinks.
Daltry came back from the john and picked up his drink. “To an interesting future,” he said. They drank, and he snaked an arm around her waist.
She let him kiss her, helping out a bit. “What time is it?” she asked, when they broke.
“Who cares? The night is young.”
She looked at her watch. “I’m afraid it’s not all that young, and I have an eight o’clock meeting tomorrow morning that I have to do some reading for.” She danced lightly away from his grasp. “Can we continue this another evening soon?”
He grabbed her wrist and not gently. “Now is soon enough for me,” he said. “I’ll send you home with my driver in the morning; you’ll be in plenty of time for your meeting.”
“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” she said, breaking free.
“You’re just a little cock teaser, aren’t you,” he said, advancing toward her.
“No, I’m a big cock teaser, and I’m going home now.”
He reached into a pocket and came out with a small spray canister. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, spraying her in the face.
Her eyes were on fire, and she was having trouble speaking. “My…”
Then he hit her in the midriff hard, with his fist, and she went down. “I knew you’d like it rough,” Daltry was saying, as he knelt beside her, ran his fingers into her cleaveage and yanked half her dress off, baring her breasts.
“My back hurts,” she managed to say.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m going to make it all better,” Daltry said. He had produced a switchblade knife and quickly cut the rest of her dress and underwear off.
She got in one punch, aiming for his nose, but caught him on the cheekbone when he turned his head. “My back hurts, goddammit!” she screamed.
He backhanded her, bouncing her head hard off the wooden floor.
He flipped her over on her belly and got a knee between her legs. “Well, let’s give you something else to think about,” he said. He put the knife against the back of her neck. “And if you move, I’ll cut your fucking head off!”
Willa went limp and began to lose consciousness. She tried to think of something pleasant and failed.
They were on coffee at Elaine’s. Dino’s phone rang. “Bacchetti.”
“Lieutenant, it’s Bernstein. Willa got something, I think: a phone number. Joe Dowdell is running it right now. It’s up north of here, at Sneden’s Landing, on the Hudson.”
“What’s so great about this number, Bernstein? We’re not shopping for real estate.”
“Daltry got a call, and I could hear his half of it. It sounds like he’s got somebody called Jerry stashed in a house up there, and he told him if he left the house, he could end up back in prison.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Wait a minute, Dowdell’s got it. The phone is in Daltry’s name; must be a country house.”
“That’s a start. You got an address?”
“Just a minute. Yeah, here it is.” He read off the address.
Dino jotted it down on the tablecloth. “Okay, I’ll get some people up there to talk to whoever the guy is.”
“Wait a minute, we got a Mayday from Willa!” The connection was broken.
“Holy shit,” Dino said, “Willa’s in trouble, and I don’t even know if they’re in the building yet.” He snatched Stone’s phone and dialed a number. “I’ve gotta keep my line clear.” He waited impatiently for the number to answer. “This is Bacchetti,” he said finally. “I want y
ou to get hold of the state police at the nearest station to Sneden’s Landing, then meet them at this address and hold whoever is in the house until you hear from me.” He read off the address. “You got that? Also, I want backup at Devlin Daltry’s address in SoHo right now! Officer needs assistance. They may need battering rams!” He hung up.
“I told you she shouldn’t go into that building,” Genevieve said. “He raped me.”
Eliza looked shocked. “You never told me.”
“I never told anybody,” she said.
Dino patted her hand. “I’m sorry, Genevieve. Don’t you worry, I’m going to make him pay for that.”
“Why don’t you call Bernstein back?” Stone said.
“He’ll call me,” Dino said. “He’s got enough on his hands right now without having to take my phone calls. His partner is in trouble; I shouldn’t have let him send her in there,” he said. “This is my fault all the way.”
“It was her call, Dino; she was on the spot, and you have to back her decision. Nothing is your fault.”
“Shit,” Dino said, banging on the table.
55
Bernstein screamed, “Mayday, Mayday,” and pulled out his gun, intending to shoot at the locks. He didn’t know if it would do any good. Then he heard Willa scream.
“My back is killing me, goddammit!”
Joe Dowdell came running with the crowbar. “I’ll try again!” he yelled.
“Not this door, the garage door!” Bernstein shouted.
Dowdell ran toward the garage door and ran the tip of the crowbar under it until it stopped where the door latched into the pavement. He worked it to no avail, then he stood on the end of the bar and put his whole weight on it. There was a metallic snap, and the door came unanchored from the concrete. All four cops got their fingers under it and managed to raise it about eighteen inches. Then the flying form of Shelly Pointer scooted under the door.
Shelly ran for the elevator. “It’s five floors!” she yelled back. “It’s faster to wait for the elevator.”
Bernstein, who was in the best shape of the four men, ignored her and ran for the stairs.