24.
“Let’s take it outside,” Tony says.
We’re standing at the end of the bar. He’s looking past me, watching a young pole dancer. His eyes widen slightly. I turn to follow his gaze. She’s upside down on the pole, doing a split.
“Talented girl,” he says.
I wonder if he’s got some thugs in the parking lot, waiting to ambush me.
“We can talk here,” I say.
“It’s too public. What I want to say requires privacy.”
“Follow me,” I say.
We go down the hall. When we get to the bathroom, I open the door.
“After you,” I say.
“What? We can’t meet in the friggin’ bathroom,” he says.
“Why not? I can keep people out.”
He looks at me like I’m insane. Doesn’t bother me. I probably am insane. He enters the room, I follow close behind. When the door’s closed he says, “Creed.”
“Yeah?”
“Should I call you Donovan?”
I shake my head. Poor, pitiful Tony.
“You’re right,” I say. “Let’s take it outside.”
When we get outside, I motion him to join me in my rental car. He looks around a minute, then climbs in. Before he can speak, I punch his temple and he goes out like a light. I start the car and drive to the edge of the parking lot and wait till traffic is moving at a good clip. Then I floor the gas pedal, squeal the tires, and force my way into the line of fast-moving cars. While I’m doing this I reach over and rip Tony’s shirt open, pull the microphone off his chest, and throw it in the street. Then I cross lanes, reverse direction, and roar past the detectives as they’re leaving the parking lot, heading the wrong way.
When Tony starts coming around, I punch him again. Next time he comes around, we’re in the parking lot of Wildrose Memorial. I get out, walk around the front of the car, open the passenger door.
“Where are we?” Tony says, looking around.
“Quick lesson, sport. Next time you wear a wire, don’t start the conversation by asking the mark his name.”
“They made me say your name like that! We practiced!”
“Yeah? Well, I’ve been practicing, too!”
I pull him out of the car, grab his good ear between my thumb and fingers, and tear it cleanly from his head. It’s a vile, messy business, this ear-tearing thing. Generates far more blood than you’d expect. As Tony starts to go into shock, I hand him his ear and point him toward the E.R.
I start heading to George Best’s house, but get sidetracked by Callie’s phone call.
“Mr. Cohen?” she says. “There are two detectives at my condo. Is there any way you can meet me?”
I look at my watch. “This time of night? They must think they have something.”
Callie says nothing, so I say, “I can come right now, but I don’t have my lawyer business card with me.”
“That’ll be fine,” she says. Then adds, “They don’t understand why you’re representing both Gwen and me.”
I smile. Callie makes it easy to read between the lines. “I’ll be glad to explain it to them when I get there.”
“Thanks, Mr. Cohen.” She tells me her address and what floor she’s located on, since the attorney, Mr. Cohen, wouldn’t know.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” I say.
25.
I’ve got A key to get in, but we don’t want the detectives to know that, so I buzz Callie’s penthouse and she clicks the lobby lock open. I take the elevator to the top floor and knock on her door. When she opens it, I see two plainclothes detectives looking very disgusted by my presence on the scene. They look so much alike, they could be brothers. One has a brown suit on, the other’s wearing navy. Both are wearing ties. Callie leads us into the living room. I study Gwen’s face for any sign that might indicate she asked Carmine to kill me. But her expression offers nothing. I catch myself thinking she’d make a great agent for me, if I could trust her a little more. Or at all.
“Don’t worry boys,” I say to the detectives. “You’re going to love the way I work.”
“Oh yeah?” brown suit says. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to let my clients answer all your questions.”
“You’re what?”
“That’s right. They’ve got nothing to hide.”
“If that’s the case,” navy suit says, “you don’t need to be here at all.”
“True. Except that my presence will keep you on your best behavior.”
“I’ve never seen you, never heard of you,” brown suit says. “You got proof of representation?”
“My proof is my client called me and asked me to come. When I got here, she let me in.”
“I’m-”
I wave him off. “Look, I don’t care what your names are. You’re brown suit, he’s navy suit. I’m Carlos Cohen.”
“Carlos?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Brown suit starts to say something, thinks better of it. Turns to Gwen and says, “You don’t seem very upset about your husband’s death.”
“I’m not.”
The detectives look at me, stunned. Not only have I allowed Gwen to incriminate herself, I motion them to continue.
They look at each other.
Blue suit shrugs and says, “Your husband was murdered in cold blood and you’re not upset? Why?”
They look at me again. When I continue to say nothing, brown suit says, “Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”
“I knew you’d love working with me. Just wait till you hear her confession!”
“Her what?”
To Gwen I say, “You may answer the detective’s question.”
“I didn’t love my husband,” Gwen says. “He lied to me, and cheated on me.”
Brown suit is so befuddled, he has to regroup.
Blue suit says, “Mrs. Peters, do you own a handgun?”
“Nope.”
He turns to Callie and says, “Do you?”
“Do I look like the kind of woman who needs a handgun?”
Both suits look at me.
“Please answer the question, Miss Carpenter.”
“No. I don’t own a handgun.”
“May we verify that fact by conducting a quick search?”
“Define ‘quick,’” I say.
“A cursory search. Ten minutes, max.”
“That’s all you need?”
“That’s all we need.”
I look at Callie. She nods. “I’ll allow it, subject to ground rules. You stay together, we go where you go. No questions during the search. You’ve got ten minutes, starting now.”
Ten minutes later blue suit says, “We can wrap this up in five minutes.”
“You’re done,” I say. “My clients have been completely cooperative, and we utilized your time frame.”
“We can come back with a search warrant,” brown suit threatens.
“I wish I could be there when you ask the judge.”
“Why?”
“Because you asked for ten minutes to search the premises. I asked if that was all you needed and you said yes. My clients consented to the search. You did, in fact, search the premises, and found nothing.”
“There’s sufficient cause to conduct a more thorough search.”
“This will be fun to hear. Please enlighten us.”
Brown suit points at Gwen. “Her husband was murdered in her house.” He points at Callie. “And her lover was murdered at the same time.”
“Is that your sufficient cause?”
“Probable cause,” blue suit corrects.
“And did you just now learn that both my clients were connected to the victims?”
“We knew it the night of the murder,” brown suit says.
“Which means you knew it before you asked for ten minutes to conduct your search,” I say. “So you’ve already used up your probable cause search.”
They don’t like what they’re hearing, but they’re veterans. While I may be confusing them, I’m not intimidating them.
Brown suit says, “You may be right. We can let the judge decide.”
“Then let’s,” I say.
We go back into Callie’s living room.
“Miss Carpenter,” brown suit says. “Was Eva LeSage your lover?”
“I’m not going to answer any questions I’ve covered with the police. Gwen and I have cooperated fully, and you know these answers. I’ll give you a quick synopsis, and then you can either ask me something new, that no one has asked during the last four sessions, or you can leave.”