“Why’s that?”
“When she’s angry, she clenches her fists. I’m worried she might punch me in the face. Then I’d have to miss an audition.”
“Did you ever see her hit anybody?”
“No. But she got very upset with the cook a couple times and chased him around the kitchen with a butcher knife.”
“I see. You should keep your distance from her.”
“I try to. But with my job, it’s difficult.”
“Well, maybe now that her boyfriend is dead, she won’t come around anymore.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Boff. She’ll be there. Every. Single. Day.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“The person who signs my paycheck is named Alicia Celina.”
Boff called Wright while he was walking to his car.
“Any progress, Billy?”
I’m still working on the escort service. This is a toughie. Somebody knew what they were doing when they put this baby together. But I’ll crack it. After that, I’ll tackle Benvenuti’s son.
“One more favor?”
Do I get overtime? You really have me hopping.
“The exercise will be good for you.”
What is it?
“I’d like you to check out a gal named Alicia Celina.” He spelled the name. “Wallachi told me the restaurant is owned by a shell corporation. I was given information today that Alicia Celina signs paychecks there. That might help you get a handle on her.”
Although he was sure he’d arrive too late to have dinner with his family, when Boff got home, he saw the table was still set and nobody had eaten. Hearing him come into the apartment, Jenny and Steven came out of the kitchen.
“Honey, you didn’t have to wait for me.”
“It was only an hour,” she said.
“A long hour for me,” Steven said. “I’m starving!”
Jenny had made a roast loin of pork with apple sauce, fresh string beans almandine, and pan-sautéed potatoes with onions. At one point during dinner, Steven called Boff Dad again, but Jenny didn’t say anything about this until their son had finished eating and left the table.
“When did he start calling you Dad?”
“At the hospital. We had a long overdue man-to-man talk.”
She reached out and squeezed her husband’s hand. “I’m glad for you, Frank. Now you’ll have to work on Sharon.”
Boff laughed at that. “Lots of luck! Sharon’s as stubborn as they come.”
“A trait she inherited from you.”
“Probably. On the positive side, she’s got your looks, thank God.”
They hit the sack early that night. Within a few minutes, she was out like a light, but sleep was harder to come by for him. The case was weighing heavily on his mind. Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, he went into the kitchen, poured a glass of Almaden Chablis from the box, and sat on the couch in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table.
As he sipped the chilled wine, he tried to put the pieces of his case together. Rafael had likely been killed for beating the escort service’s highest earner. Marla’s fate was probably sealed the moment she asked Morant’s clerk to let her see his docket. If the clerk had later mentioned this to the judge and described the beautiful young woman, it wouldn’t have been hard for Morant to figure out that Marla was the hooker he was with when he took the call about Silverstein. In all likelihood, he concluded, that’s what set her murder in motion. As for Mantilla, his gut feeling was that Alicia had arranged for his death.
As he was running down the details, he suddenly recalled Kate telling him that Gina had been crying about a friend who had been killed. He glanced at a wall clock. It was only ten-thirty. Figuring she might still be up, he called McAlary.
“I hope it isn’t too late to be calling.”
If it has to do with Rafael, it’s not.
“It does. Can I speak with Kate? She might be able to help me on something.”
Hang on.
Boff sipped some more wine while he waited for the trainer to get his wife.
What is it, Boff? Kate asked.
“I was wondering if Gina said anything further to you about the death of her friend.”
As a matter of fact she did. I was going to call you tomorrow. She came to me a couple hours ago and said she wanted to talk to me about it.
“What’d she say?”
That her friend’s name was Alberto Mantilla. In case you didn’t know, Mantilla helped Rafael defect.
“I did know that. I also know that Gina felt Rafael was cheating on her, so she apparently did a lot of crying on Mantilla’s shoulder.”
There was a pause on the line. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that. Gina confessed to me she was having an affair with Mantilla in order to get back at Rafael. Now I’ve got to go check on my daughter.
While refilling his wine glass, Boff fit this latest piece into the puzzle. It was his experience that the majority of cheaters eventually get caught, so if Alicia discovered Mantilla was sleeping with Gina, then his gut feeling about why he was killed looked right on the mark. The only question was if she did have him murdered, why use a bomb instead of a gun? Then he remembered what Alicia had said during her angry confrontation with Mantilla in the restaurant: If I find out you’ve been screwing around on me, I’ll wipe you off the face of the earth. Short of sending him into orbit on a spacecraft, a bomb would do that job quite nicely.
Chapter 36
In the morning, Boff woke up with Alicia still on his mind. After calling Wright and arranging to meet with him around noon to see what he had found out about her, he drove over to the gym, leaned on the wall near the door, and thought about what cards were on the table. Three dead bodies. More likely on the way. It was apparent somebody connected with the escort service was playing hardball with anybody perceived to be a threat. Which, of course, included him.
When Cullen and Bellucci wrapped up their morning session, Boff called them over.
“You guys want to take a ride?”
“Where to?” Cullen asked.
“To see an information broker.”
“What’s that?” Bellucci asked.
“Someone who gets information.”
Cullen laughed. “Have you ever answered a question straight?”
“I’m sure I have. I just can’t recall an instance right now.”
Heading to Wright’s shop in Williamsburg, Boff told them what he’d found out from Daysi about Alicia’s connection to the restaurant. Then he told them about Mantilla’s affair with Gina.
“If Alicia’s the restaurant’s owner,” Bellucci said, “then maybe she also owns the escort service.”
Boff shook his head. “Just because she signs paychecks, Mikey, that doesn’t mean she owns the restaurant. She could be the manager.”
“Then what was Mantilla’s role?” Cullen asked.
“Alicia’s personality wouldn’t be suitable for dealing with customers. Mantilla was probably the floor manager. Anyway, before we speculate any further, let’s see what my man Billy dug up.”
Wright was working on one of his computers when they walked into is inner sanctum. Despite it being late spring and unusually hot, Boff noted with mild surprise that Wright was wearing a knit ski cap.
“Give me a minute, Frank,” the information broker said.
Boff and Bellucci sat on chairs against one wall as Cullen wandered over to a shelf containing software and studied the titles.
“I learned how to use this stuff in my investigator’s course,” he said. “NetDetective, eDetective, Real Time Spy, and Urgent Detective.”
“What do they help you do?” Bellucci asked.
“Conduct online background investigations. Search public records. Find missing persons. Things like that.”
“I bet,” Boff said, “that you couldn’t find me if I lived two blocks from you.”
“Cynic.
When Wright had finished what he was working on, he
swiveled his chair around to face them. “Well, Frank, who’re your friends?”
After Boff introduced them, Wright said, “Boxers, huh? I used to compete in the martial arts. Karate, aikido, and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.” He patted his gut. “That was a few pounds ago.” He turned to Boff. “Like my new hairdo?” He yanked off the knit cap, revealing a bald head shiny with sweat.
“Why’d you cut off your hair?” Boff said.
“I read on a chemtrails site about the crap the government planes are dumping in the sky. It can penetrate your hair and stay there. Even after you shampoo.” He pointed at Boff. “Maybe you should consider shaving that unruly mop off, Frank.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Wright shrugged. “Just remember that when the stuff in the chemtrails turns your brain into mush. You’ll have only yourself to blame.”
“You’re already making my head mushy with this chemtrails garbage.”
“What’s chemtrails?” Cullen asked.
Boff groaned. “Aw, don’t ask him that.”
“They have a right to know, Frank.”
“Fine. So tell them after you tell me what you found out about Alicia.”
“No problem. But before I get to Alicia, I wanted you to know I talked to a fibbie who works in the Organized Crime Unit here in New York. He said Emilio is just as advertised. Works in banking. Has never been involved in the family business. Pays his taxes. Is hetero. And doesn’t have friends that engage in illegal activities. Unless, of course, you consider everyone on Wall Street a crook. So I guess you can forget about him.”
Boff shook his head. “Not yet. What about Alicia?”
“I couldn’t confirm right away that she owned the restaurant. It’s registered under the name ACM International.”
“Which stands for?”
“It’s a shell company in the Caymans with no office of operations. When you call the company’s phone number, you always get an answering machine. Messages are not returned.” Wright paused and smiled. “And the company has one other asset besides the restaurant. Guess what that is?”
“Just tell me.”
“An escort service called NY Club Cachet VIP.”
Boff smiled. “Good work, Billy.”
“Wait. I’m not done. There’s more you’re gonna love. I did an intensive search on the name Alicia Celina. There’s fifteen of them on the East Coast, including one here in New York. The Alicia Celina in New York has a rap sheet.”
“For what?”
“Get ready to cream your pants, Frank. Prostitution. And not the street variety. Apparently, a few years ago, Alicia was a high-class call girl for an elite escort service named Pleasure Island. The service was eventually busted in a NYPD sting, and Alicia got thirty hours of community service. So…I’m thinking that maybe Ms. Celina missed the good money and decided to start her own service.”
Boff shook his head. “I dunno about that. I doubt she had enough money from being a hooker to fund an escort service.”
Wright leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. “This Alicia Celina could. I’m pretty sure she’s got another source of income.”
“Which is?”
“I can’t prove it yet, Frank, but I’m betting she has a nice trust fund.”
Boff looked surprised. “Why do you think that?”
“Well, besides the Alicia Celinas my search dug up, blessed Google gave me a few variations on the name. The Alicia Celina in New York comes from a rich banking family. Her full name is.…Drum roll, please…Alicia. Celina. Mantilla. ACM International.”
Chapter 37
As they climbed back into Boff’s Malibu, Bellucci said, “Alicia was sleeping with her brother? That’s pretty disgusting.”
“Well, it’s possible that they were only cousins,” Boff said.
“Still incest,” Bellucci said.
Before starting his car, Boff speed-dialed Pete Wallachi’s number. As it rang, he said to the boxers, “I’m going to get some more info about this gal. Hang on a minute.” Wallachi came on line. “Pete, I just found out that your late buddy, Alberto Mantilla, either has a cousin or a sister named Alicia. Did she come up in your investigation?”
It’s his sister.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Didn’t think it was relevant.
“It is now.” Boff quickly explained why. “Was there any hint of hanky panky between them when you investigated?”
Yes, but nothing I could get on record from anyone. A few people told me brother and sister were very close. As in maybe too close. Nobody came right out and said it, but it was pretty obvious what they were implying.
“Thanks, Pete. I might need your services soon.”
The Great Boffer asking for help? That’d be a first.
“The job I have in mind will require more than one operative. I’ll let you know when.” After hanging up, Boff turned back to Cullen. “Are you ready now to put Herman J.’s lessons to work?”
“How?”
Boff started his car and pulled out into traffic. “What would you say if I asked you to book an hour with one of the Club Cachet women?”
“No fucking way. I just lost Marla. I’m not up for screwing some hooker. No matter how beautiful she might be.”
“You don’t have to have sex with her,” Boff said. “A lot of guys book a girl just to have someone to talk to. That’s what you’ll be doing. Talking. While you’re putting your alleged investigative skills to work.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Get information from her that could help us. I hope Herman J. taught you more than just how to use NetDetective and make online searches.”
“Hey, Boff,” Bellucci said. “If Danny isn’t up to it, I’ll do it. I have no problem having sex with a hot babe. Even if she’s a hooker.”
Boff shook his head. “Sorry, Mikey, but it has to be Danny.”
“Why me?” Cullen said.
“Because you’re going to tell her your girlfriend just got murdered.”
“What does that accomplish?”
“Gains her sympathy. And hopefully gets her to drop her guard. You won’t let on, of course, you know Marla was a hooker for the escort service. If the gal brings it up, fine. Then you can say you knew. Above all, try and get the escort’s personal phone number.”
“And then what?”
“She becomes an asset to play when the time is right.”
“I don’t see it,” Cullen said.
“You don’t have to. Just trust me.”
“Whatever.”
At Cullen’s apartment, Boff got the website on Bellucci’s computer, clicked on the link, OUR BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, and was directed to a page where each girl was showcased. There was general info about each one, and they were posed in a provocative way with the tops of their heads cropped off. He leaned closer to the screen. “Okay, Danny, let’s pick out your date.”
Bellucci pointed to the screen. “What’s with the blue jewels next to their names?”
Boff took a moment to study the page. “They’re sapphires, Mikey. I believe they’re part of a rating system. Seven sapphires looks like the highest. Two is the lowest. Which means the more sapphires a gal has, the more it costs you.”
“Oh.”
Boff began reading profiles. After a while, he stopped on one and pointed to the screen. “This is the gal, Danny.”
Cullen leaned closer and saw the woman’s name was Dina. He looked at Boff. “Isn’t Dina…?”
“Yes. She’s one of the three girls Emilio said he’d used. But that’s not why I chose her.”
The boxer took a longer look at Dina. Like all the women, she looked pretty hot. She was dressed in a black micro-mini skirt with a red silk halter top and rated at two sapphires. “Okay,” he said, “but why her?”
“Because from what the site says about her, I don’t believe she’s as sophisticated and worldly as some of the others. That might make it easier for you to get inside her def
enses.”
Bellucci took another look. “I’d get into more than her defenses,” he said.
Looking at the woman’s description, Cullen read it out loud. “Beautiful, charismatic American beauty, Dina is a complete delight to be with. Her winning personality and sparkling bronze eyes light up any occasion. Dina is a classy, cheerful, beautiful woman. Experience the refreshing invigoration of Dina’s presence.”
“You okay with her?” Boff asked.
“As long as all I have to do is talk with her. So how much is she an hour?”
“We’ll find that out when you call and make an appointment. Remember to save your credit card receipt after you pay her. I’ll give you a check for the charge and write it off on my taxes.”
Bellucci made a face. “How can you write off a hooker?”
“It’s legitimate research on a case involving a murdered call girl. Danny, dial the number.”
After Cullen gave the service a good deal of information about himself, he made an appointment for Thursday, two days away. The charge was eight hundred for the hour. The service also asked him for his work phone. He told them he was a professional boxer, gave the number at the gym, and hung up.
“When they contact Dina,” Boff said, “she’ll probably run your name through a verification company. Emilio alluded to that. They’ll especially want to know if you have a history of giving call girls problems.”
“I’ve never been with a hooker in my life,” Cullen said. “Well, technically, I guess you could say I was.”
Boff looked at Bellucci. “Mikey, you can’t be home when she comes.”
“That sure blows. I really wanted to see her.”
“She won’t want to see you.”
Chapter 38
After leaving Cullen’s apartment, Boff drove to the Bronx to see mob boss Bruno Benvenuti, who lived in the Belmont section of the borough. Benvenuti had a three-story row house a block from Arthur Avenue, where most of the neighborhood’s Italian restaurants and delis were. As he drove down Arthur, he opened all his windows so he could catch the aroma of garlic and basil coming from the restaurants and the Mediterranean gardens. Then, before going to the mobster’s house, he stopped at a wine shop he had been to before. Although the majority of Fiore’s wine came from Italy, he knew the store’s biggest seller was a homemade red from a local basement winery.
The Killer Sex Game (A Frank Boff Mystery) Page 18