“Is your apartment cold?” she asked.
“No, it’s fine. Nice and warm.”
“I’m freezing to death here,” she said. “I’m going to call the Ombudsman’s Office first thing tomorrow morning. They’re not supposed to turn off the heat so early, are they?”
“Eleven o’clock, I thought.”
“Is it eleven already?”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Another day, another dollar,” Eileen said, and sighed. “Anyway, they’re not supposed to turn it off entirely, are they?”
“Sixty-two, I think.”
“The radiators here are ice cold,” she said. “I have four blankets on the bed.”
“You ought to get an electric blanket,” Kling said.
“I’m afraid of them. I’m afraid I’ll catch on fire or something.”
“No, no, they’re very safe.”
“Do you have an electric blanket?”
“No. But I’m told they’re very safe.”
“Or electrocuted,” she said.
“Well,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And really, I am sorry for—”
“Me, too.” She paused. “This is the ‘I’m-Sorry-You’re-Sorry’ scene, isn’t it?” she said.
“I guess so.”
“Yeah, that’s what it is,” she said.
Silence again.
“Well,” he said, “it’s late, I don’t want to—”
“No, don’t go,” she said.
Silence again.
“Well,” he said, “it’s late, I don’t want to—”
“No, don’t go,” she said. “Talk to me.”
It seemed evident to Brown, as he studied the purchase prices on Edelman’s various real estate documents — and translated the French francs, Spanish pesetas, Portuguese escudos, and British pounds to US dollars — that Edelman had been involved in cash transactions that totaled some $4 million over the past five years. His recorded transactions, the purchases and sales covered by his various checks and subsequent deposits, amounted to some $1,275,000 over that same period of time. That left almost $3 million unaccounted for — and unaccountable to the Internal Revenue Service.
The trips to Zurich, five in the past year alone, suddenly seemed to make sense, especially in view of the fact that the only expenses he’d incurred there had been for food and lodging. Apparently, Edelman conducted no business in the city of Zurich, no gem business, anyway. Then why did he go there? And why had his visits there been followed invariably by side excursions to other cities on the continent? His itineraries, based on the flow of checks in each city, seemed to follow a consistent pattern: Amsterdam, Zurich, Paris, London, with an occasional side trip to Lisbon. Brown guessed that Edelman’s trips to Zurich were prompted not so much by a desire to visit the Alps as they were by a need to visit his money.
There was no way of finding out whether or not he had a Swiss bank account; Swiss bankers were as tight with information as hookers were with free trade. Perhaps Mrs. Edelman knew something more about her husband’s various trips abroad and his ownership (in his name only, Brown noticed) of real estate in five foreign countries. Perhaps she knew why Zurich had been an essential stop on all of his little journeys. Or perhaps, faced with what now looked like a simple case of tax evasion, she would claim she was an “innocent spouse” who knew nothing about her husband’s business activities. Perhaps she didn’t.
In any case, it now looked as if they had a mildly prosperous gem merchant who kept honest books on the little baubles he bought and sold here and there, deducted his operating expenses from his small profits, and then paid the tax man whatever was due on his net income. In the meantime, this same guy was spending large sums of cash for the unreported purchase of gems abroad, selling those gems for cash here in the United States — again without reporting the transactions — and then using his huge profits to buy not only more gems for resale later, but real estate as well. It did not take a financial genius to recognize that a cash buyer in today’s real estate market, when mortgage interest rates both here and abroad were astronomical, would be welcomed with open arms in any country on the face of the earth. Edelman had been buying like a drunken Arab; his real business was netting him millions of dollars, none of it reported to Uncle Sam.
Brown reached for the phone on his desk and dialed Kling’s home number.
The line was busy.
She had asked him not to go, she had asked him to talk to her, and suddenly he could think of nothing else to say. The silence on the line lengthened. On the street outside, he heard the distinctive wail of a 911-Emergency truck, and wondered which poor bastard had jumped off a bridge or got himself pinned under a subway train.
“Do you ever get scared?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I mean, on the job.”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared,” she said.
“What about?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“The nurse thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, just don’t—”
“I mean, I’m always a little scared, but not like this time.” She hesitated. “He blinded one of them,” she said. “One of the nurses he raped.”
“Boy,” Kling said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, what you have to do... just be careful, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I’m always careful,” she said.
“Who’s your backup on this?”
“Two of them. I’ve got two of them.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Abrahams and McCann, do you know them?”
“No.”
“They’re out of the Chinatown Precinct.”
“I don’t know them.”
“They seem okay, but... well, a backup can’t stay glued to you, you know, otherwise he’ll scare off the guy you’re trying to catch.”
“Yeah, but they’ll be there if you need them.”
“I guess.”
“Sure, they will.”
“How long does it take to put out somebody’s eyes?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t worry about that, really, that’s not going to help, worrying about it. Just make sure you’ve got your hand on your gun, that’s all.”
“In my bag, yeah.”
“Wherever you carry it.”
“That’s where I carry it.”
“Make sure it’s in your hand. And keep your finger inside the trigger guard.”
“Yeah, I always do.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to carry a spare, either.”
“Where would I carry a spare?”
“Strap it to your ankle. Wear slacks. Nurses are allowed to wear slacks, aren’t they?”
“Oh, sure. But they like a leg show, you see. I’ll be wearing the uniform, you know, like a dress. The white uniform.”
“Who do you mean? Rank? They told you to wear a dress?”
“I’m sorry, what—”
“You said they like a leg show—”
“Oh. I meant the lunatics out there. They like a little leg, a little ass. Shake your boobs, lure them out of the bushes.”
“Yeah, well,” Kling said.
“I’ll be wearing one of those starched things, you know, with a little white cap, and white panty hose, and this big black cape. I already tried it on today, it’ll be at the hospital when I check in tomorrow night.”
“What time will that be?”
“When I get to the hospital, or when I go out?”
“Both.”
“I’m due there at eleven. I’ll be hitting the park at a little after midnight.”
“Well, be careful.”