Kate said to Jill, “He looks good in coral. It brings out his tan. He never wears anything bold or trendy. Where did you get it?”
“Barneys. They have wonderful things for men.”
I felt excluded from this conversation, so I stood and said, “I’m going to talk to the patrolman at the elevator. I’ll be about an hour. If you’d like, you can watch the videotape while I’m gone. It’s under my mattress.”
I left the suite and went down the hall to the elevators.
The uniformed cop was sitting in one of the upholstered chairs in the small elevator lobby reading theDaily News. I introduced myself to him, and showed him my Fed creds and my NYPD retired detective ID.
I sat in the empty chair and asked him, “When do you get off duty?”
The young officer, whose name tag said Alvarez, replied, “Three hours ago. Hey, who is this guy Fanelli? He’s got more pull than the police commissioner.”
“He is a man who trades favors. Favors are the currency of the police department. You can’t take money, so you pay in favors, and you collect favors. That’s how things get done, and how you get ahead, and how you keep your ass out of hot water.”
“Yeah?”
“Let me tell you about it.”
I sat there with Patrolman Alvarez, telling him how his world actually worked.
At first, he seemed bored, but then he got interested when he realized he was in the presence of a master. After half an hour, he was asking questions quicker than I could answer them. I thought he was going to kneel at my right hand, but instead he pulled his chair around to face me so I had to keep my eye on the elevators.
He was getting a lot out of his overtime, but to tell you the truth, I was getting more out of it.
After an hour, I stood and asked him, “When do you get relieved?”
“At midnight.”
“Okay, I want you to do me a favor and be back here at seven-thirtyA.M.”
“There’ll be another guy-”
“I wantyou.”
I gave him my card and said, “Be alert, and be careful. The guys who may be coming out of those elevators are not ordinary scumbags. They’re trained professionals, and to make this real for you, I’ll tell you they’d shoot you in a heartbeat if they had to. Take your piece out of your holster and keep it tucked in your belt, with your newspaper on your lap. If you smell trouble, pull it. If you have to, shoot.”
Patrolman Alvarez’s eyes were wide open.
I slapped him on the shoulder, smiled, and said, “Don’t shoot any paying guests.”
I went back to the suite, which was dark because Kate and Jill were watching the last few minutes of the videotape.
I went to the bar, poured a club soda, and waited.
The lights came on, but no one said anything.
I suggested, “Why don’t we order room service?”
Kate, Jill, and I were at the dining table having a light supper. I didn’t bring up the subject of the videotape, and neither did they.
I suggested that no one check their cell phones, because as far as I was concerned, anyone who called had nothing to say that would change anything. The only person I needed to hear from was Dom Fanelli, and he’d call on the room phone.
We talked mostly about Yemen, Tanzania, and Old Brookville. Thankfully, no one had slides to show.
Jill was very interested in Kate’s assignment in Tanzania, and her work on the embassy bombing. Jill was also interested in my assignment in Yemen, and the USSColecase. In our business, we tend toward understatements, as we’d been taught, and to watch for security breaches, but this usually makes people more interested. I thought about telling the story of the desert tribesmen on horseback attacking my Land Rover on the road to Sana’a, but I didn’t have a good ending for it yet.
Kate seemed genuinely interested in hearing about life on Long Island’s Gold Coast, but Jill said, with the same understatement that Kate and I had affected, “It’s not as interesting or as glamorous as you might think. I got tired of the charity balls, the parties, the designer showcases, the country club, and the displays of affluence. I even got tired of the juicy gossip.”
I said, “I love gossip, and I could get used to affluence.”
By all outward appearances, it was pleasant enough dinner conversation, but hanging over us was the future, which would begin at 8:30 the next morning.
At about 10P.M., the room phone rang. I picked it up and said, “Hello.”
Dom Fanelli said, “Hey, did I catch you in the saddle?”
“No. What’s up?”
“Well, for one thing there’s some fallout from my snatch job this afternoon. It’s like I pissed on a hornets’ nest or something. These guys got some friends high up.”
“Not for much longer.”
“Right. If you can’t beat ’em, and you can’t join ’em, I say kill ’em. Right? Anyway, here’s for tomorrow-I got three PDs each with two uniformed cops, including a patrol sergeant. I could get detectives and plainclothes guys, but I’m thinking the uniforms are the way to go. Right?”
“Right.”
“You got an eight-thirty at WTC North, so these guys are coming on duty at eight and they can get to you maybe eight-fifteen, and will meet you at the hotel entrance on the Central Park South side. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You pick how you want to go-separate cars, all in one with a lead, or backup car-whatever. Your call. If it was me, and I got three cars, I’d split it up. You don’t want all your cannolis in one pastry box.”
I glanced at Jill and Kate and said to Dom, “Right.”
“Okay, tomorrow is primary day. Second Tuesday of September. Did you know that? Don’t forget to vote. So, the traffic patterns in theA.M. may be a little different with people coming in a little late after they do their civic thing. But if you all get there a little late, you know they’re not starting without you.”
“Right.”
“Okay, so you want these guys to stay with you all the way up to the 107thfloor. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“You want them to take you someplace afterward. Right?”
“Yeah. Probably back to the Plaza, and I’ll need people at the elevator here all through tomorrow and tomorrow night until we see how this plays out.”
“That could be a problem. I’ll tell you why-someone from the commissioner’s office gave me a call tonight, and he inquired politely about what the fuck I was doing. I, of course, said I didn’t know what this guy was talking about. So, we seem to have this problem, and it’s coming from Washington, according to this guy, who was totally clueless about why he got a call from some guy in D.C. who he wouldn’t ID for me. Bottom line, partner, I don’t know how long I can supply you with city cops for what they’re telling me is a Federal witness protection thing. Capisce?”
“Capisco.”
“I mean, we don’t want to step on Federal toes or anything, and I’m just providing you a courtesy, but the Feds are saying they are happy to provide people to take care of your witness.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“So, you deal with that at your meeting. But for tomorrowA.M., we’ll be there, take you to WTC North, get you out of there, then back to the hotel. That’s all I can promise you, John. After that, I don’t know. You gotta get this straightened out at your meeting.”
Again, I glanced at Kate and Jill, and they were looking at me closely. I said to Dom, “Just get us back here without a tail, or to someplace else that I’ll think of. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He said to me, “Maybe you should go to the newspapers. Like, we can take you right from WTC to the Times. I’ll call ahead and have nosy investigative reporters waiting for you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think about it too long. I gotta tell ya, buddy, these bastards are going to play hardball. If I was them, I’d hit the lady with a material witness warrant as soon as I saw her.”
I glanced at Jill and said to Dom, “Serving a warrant is one thing-trying to enforce it is another.”