“Heaven forbid.”
“With regard to that very case you mentioned, there have been some rapid developments. A suspect has emerged by the name of Donald Dressler.” Dino slid a copy of Donnie’s rap sheet in front of her on the desk. “The crime scene unit found his fingerprints all over the cash box that had been looted in the apartment. Of course, there’s no way to tell when those prints were made. However, the doorman has identified Mr. Dressler as the young man who was sent up to Herbie Fisher’s apartment in the guise of a pizza deliveryman at eight-oh-five last night.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“It’s on the surveillance video. His face is plainly visible. Anyway, we’ll be issuing an APB on him as a suspect in the Yvette Walker homicide, and since you already have a suspect charged with the crime, I wouldn’t want to cause you any embarrassment.”
Dierdre Monahan’s face got hard. “Are you telling me to drop the charges against Herbie Fisher?”
“Absolutely not. It’s entirely your business. I’m just telling you mine. Sometimes our business conflicts, but we’re all on the same side.”
Dierdre referred to the rap sheet. “This guy’s a two-bit grifter. He doesn’t kill people. He’s a con man.”
“He’s been busted a number of times and he doesn’t like it. Each time’s a harder fall. Maybe he didn’t want to stick around and get caught.”
“Oh,” Dierdre said sarcastically. “He’s sick of short prison terms so he decided he’d risk life?”
“We’re just starting to get the facts. They don’t all add up yet.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Anyway, I wanted to give you the heads-up.”
After Dino left, ADA Monahan sat staring at the rap sheet. She’d have to tell the DA about this new development. He wouldn’t want her prosecuting a case she couldn’t win, particularly one that might lay the office open to ridicule. A dismissal wouldn’t be a bar to future prosecution. If she let Herbie go, she could always charge him again.
ADA Monahan scowled and reached for the phone.
56
Dino stopped off at Stone’s to give him the news.
Stone was as incredulous as Monahan. “A thief did it?”
“That’s what the evidence shows.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes more sense than Herbie did it.”
“Then it wasn’t Taperelli.”
“It doesn’t look like it, which is a big weight off my mind. I’ve been kicking myself around all day.”
“So has Herbie. He blames himself for Yvette’s death.”
“You want to tell him?”
“He’s not going to believe you. He’s going to think you’re making it up.”
“You can’t make up fingerprints.”
“Actually, you can. Lift ’em from one place and label ’em as coming from another.”
“My detectives wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh? Including Detective Kelly?”
“Fuck you, too, Stone.”
“Let’s go tell him.”
Herbie wasn’t convinced. “Yvette was killed by a burglar?”
“It’s possible,” Dino said. “In any event, it appears you were robbed.”
“Appears?”
“Do you have a cash box in your walk-in closet?”
“Yes.”
“Anything in it?”
“I keep some cash on hand.”
“How much?”
“A few thousand in hundred-dollar bills, just for emergencies.”
“Any jewels in the jewelry case?”
“Cuff links. Tie clips. A couple of watches.”
“There’s every indication they were stolen at the same time Yvette was killed.”
“She surprised a burglar? I don’t understand.”
“Nothing adds up because the stage was set. She was killed elsewhere, and put in the bed. The gun was put in your hand.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I’m doing my damnedest. The point is no one thinks you did it anymore.”
“But they did,” Herbie said flatly.
Seeing that Dino’s assurances weren’t lifting Herbie’s mood, Stone said, “Most importantly, it looks like this had nothing to do with the court case. Taperelli, the detective, that’s not what this was about. It just happened.”
“Yes, but why?”
Dino shook his head. “I don’t know. But I mean to find out.”
57
Chico And gus were parked outside the entrance of Cornell Hospital. Chico had found out when Melanie ended her shift, and brought in reinforcements. They’d come in a car in case she took a taxi home. Chico would follow her if she left on foot.
When the attractive blonde emerged from the hospital, Chico jabbed Gus in the ribs and pointed. “There she is.”
Melanie was still in scrubs, but with a light jacket and carrying a purse. Instead of walking toward York Avenue, she headed for the circular driveway out front.
“She’s going for the taxi line. You’re up.”
Gus started the engine.
There was one man ahead of Melanie waiting for a cab, and a woman was paying off a taxi by the curb. After he got that one, she’d be next.
Gus was revving the engine.
“You wanna tone it down? It’s not a drag race.”
Gus eased off the gas.
While they were watching, a sleek sedan squeezed past the taxi and slid to a stop in front of the hospital. The driver hopped out, came around, and ushered Melanie into the backseat.
“What the hell?” Chico murmured.
“Who is that?” Gus said.
“I don’t know, but follow that car.”
The Bentley took a surprisingly short trip, ending at a town house in Turtle Bay. Gus found it odd.
“Why pick her up in a private car to bring her a distance she could have walked?”
They watched as the Bentley pulled into an underground garage.
Chico pulled out his cell phone and called Mookie. “We couldn’t get her.”
“Why not?”
“A driver in a Bentley picked her up at the door and took her to a house in Turtle Bay.”
“What’s the address?”
Chico gave it. Mookie hung up the phone and cursed his luck. When things went bad, they went really bad. He had to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose it, not on a job for a guy like Tommy Taperelli.
Mookie went to the computer and traced the ownership of the property. The town house was owned by a Mr. Stone Barrington. Wasn’t that the lawyer who’d just showed up in court?
Mookie Googled him. Stone Barrington was indeed a lawyer. And not just any lawyer. Stone appeared to be one of the wealthiest, most well-connected men in America. He was reputed to cruise around in custom-made cars of his own specifications. If that was his car and driver, the girl would be impossible to abduct while she was under his protection. They’d have to wait until she went home and roust her out of her apartment.
Mookie bit the bullet and called Taperelli.
58
Melanie hugged Herbie in her arms. “You poor thing.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“As if you had to tell me that. What a horrible thing. I’m so sorry about your fiancée.”
“Why? You don’t know me.”
“True. I didn’t even know you had a fiancée.”
“It didn’t come up.”
“You must have loved her very much. I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Do you want me to leave you alone? I just want to help, and I don’t know how.”
“Nothing helps.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m so confused. I came home. We were having drinks. The next thing I know I wake up in jail and am told I’m being charged with her murder.”