“I understand.”
Fortuno clapped his hands, as if summoning a servant. “Excellent. When will you see Philip?”
“Have his mom call me.”
“She will do that. They live in Santa Barbara.”
“That’s ninety miles away. Maybe the best thing would be for me to find you a referral there.”
Fortuno’s mouth tightened and his eyes were black lines. “Maybe not.”
“It’s a long drive for a young chi-”
“You drive to Philip,” he said. “When I am in a position to do so, I will compensate you for your fuel and your time-portal-to-portal, like what lawyers get. Like what I used to get. I’m not talking long-term Freudian or Jungian psychoanalysis. One visit, maybe two, three four-a consultation. In one of those articles you wrote, you said a lot of child therapy can be done short-term. Journal of Clinical and Consulting-”
“I can’t guarantee that in every case, Mr. Fortuno.”
“I’m not asking for a guarantee, Dr. Delaware. Two sessions, maybe three, four. After that, if you feel Philip’s needs are best served by a local expert, I will accept that. But you start the ball rolling, Dr. Delaware. Meet my son face-to-face and give me feedback. He’s a very quiet boy.”
“Okay,” I said.
Another clap. “Excellent. When?”
“Have his mother call me.”
“Give me something more specific.” An order, not a request. He sat up straighter, buoyed by the shred of control.
“Have her call and I promise I’ll drive up and meet with Philip as soon as I can,” I said. “You’ve done what you can, the rest is up to her.”
Fortuno breathed in sharply. “She will call you soon. Perhaps Philip can come visit you at that nice pretty white house. See those pretty fish in your pond.”
My gut tightened. “Happy to show them to him.”
Petra said, “Enough small talk.”
CHAPTER 28
“Blaise De Paine,” said Mario Fortuno. “Rotten kid.”
“How so?”
“I do not approve of thievery. However…” Throat clear. “…in the course of my profession, I am forced to deal with individuals of dubious morality. Much the same as it is with you, Detectives.” To me: “You, too, given your long association with law enforcement. My Philip will be a breath of fresh air.”
Petra said, “What business did you do with De Paine?”
“His profession, such as it is, places him at various clubs and the like. Many of these nightspots feature so-called VIP lounges where inhibitions are relaxed, not to mention lavatories equipped surreptitiously with peepholes and hidden cameras by individuals of dubious ethics.”
“He sold you incriminating pictures of celebrities.”
Wanamaker said, “Be careful.”
“Wesley, I owe these good people something.”
“Be careful.”
Fortuno sighed. “Skirting some paper-thin ice here, what I believe I can tell you within the bounds of Special Agent Wanamaker’s approval is that Mr. De Paine found himself in possession of data concerning various individuals of interest to me for reasons I cannot and will not get into.”
“Does he also sell drugs?” said Petra.
Fortuno glanced at Wanamaker. The agent was silent. “If he did, I would not be shocked. However, I have no firsthand knowledge of such transactions and, in fact, possess a strong aversion to toxic substances as they de-oxidify the body.” Hoisting the orange juice. “Vitamin C.”
“Which substances does De Paine peddle?”
“I’d term his activities…eclectic.”
“Heroin?”
“It would not shock me.”
“Cocaine?”
“Same answer.”
“Ecstasy?”
“Detective Connor,” said Fortuno, “the young man in question is enterprising. A type I’m sure we’re both familiar with.”
“What type is that?”
“The me generation. So many of them yearn for stardom but lack talent. Not to mention a moral core.”
Petra said, “What did you give De Paine for his information?”
Wanamaker waved a finger. “Uh-uh.”
“Did you trade him personal data for narcotics?”
Wanamaker said, “Change the subject, Detective.”
Fortuno’s cheeks quivered. “Wesley, throughout my relationship with you, your colleagues and your superiors, has anyone-anyone- come across a shred of evidence suggesting my active association with narcotics other than helping children of clients get clean and sober?”
Wanamaker looked at his watch.
Petra said, “How long were you and De Paine in business?”
“Awhile,” said Fortuno.
“Months or years?”
“The latter.”
“How many years?”
“I’d have to check my records.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Five’s a nice round number.”
“What about Robert Fisk?”
“Who would that be, Detective?”
“A known associate of De Paine.” Petra showed Fortuno the mug shot.
“He looks like an extremely resentful person. Bad eyes…is he De Paine’s conduit for violence?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because De Paine is a sissy who avoids confrontation. Because you didn’t take time out from your busy day to visit me due to a shoplifting violation.”
“You don’t know Fisk.”
“Never heard of him, never laid eyes on him.”
“What about Moses Grant?” Flashing the DMV shot.
Fortuno said, “This person I have witnessed in De Paine’s company. I believe De Paine termed him his disk jockey. Another would-be music person. If you call that music.”
“Call what?”
“In less enlightened times, what would’ve been termed jungle rhythms. Being a Chicago person, Sinatra is more to my taste.”
“Sinatra was from New Jersey.”
“His music is esteemed in Chicago.”
“Tell me about Moses Grant.”
“I have seen him in the company of Mr. De Paine several times-three or four times. He never spoke in my presence. My impression was he was a lackey. I believe I saw him driving Mr. De Paine’s car.”
“What kind of vehicle?”
“Two vehicles, to be precise. One of those gas-guzzling Hummers and a Lexus sedan. The Lexus belongs to Mr. De Paine’s mother.”
“Mary Whitbread.”
Fortuno chuckled.
“What’s funny?” said Petra.
“How she came to call herself that.”
“You know her.”
“That,” said Fortuno, “is quite a story.”
“We’ve got time.”
Wanamaker said, “Forty-one minutes to be exact.”
Fortuno removed a loafer, slipped a finger between his toes, dug and scratched, produced something that seemed to intrigue him.
Petra said, “Mary Whitbread.”
“Her given name is Maria Baker. Her hometown is Chicago.”
“Old neighbor?” said Petra.
“We grew up in different neighborhoods. I became acquainted with Maria through my activities in law enforcement.”
“You were a cop?”
“I contemplated becoming one. Only briefly, all the perfidy and corruption…no offense, assorted gendarmes, but Chicago was quite a city back then and sometimes it was difficult to differentiate the good guys from the miscreants.”
“What was your association with the cops?”
“I did some security consulting to various political figures. Occasionally that led me to interface with your Windy City counterparts. Because of my familiarity with various individuals of Italian ancestry-”
“Uh-uh, nope,” said Wanamaker.
“Wesley,” said Fortuno, “at some point you need to develop a sense of trust. I have no intention of breaching our agreement, if for no other reason than a breach would not be in my best interests. The events that interest Detective Connor predate any you’d be concerned with and I am simply providing context-”