Copp In The Dark, A Joe Copp Thriller (Joe Copp Private Eye Series) (11 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Don’t get the idea that I was in a panic, or that I felt that Judith was in immediate danger of losing her life—but these guys in the big time play for keeps and seldom leave anything to chance. If I'd doped the case right and if
DiCenza's
people were trying to intimidate the judge by not-so-subtle threats against his daughter, then Judith very probably was not in immediate danger. To rub out five innocent bystanders is to send a very strong message, but the effect of that message depended on the judge's daughter being simply vulnerable, not dead.

And like I said, these people don't leave much to chance. My immediate worry was that they would quietly snatch the daughter and keep her on ice to insure that continuing state of vulnerability until they got what they wanted from her father.

Mind you, I was not one hundred percent convinced that I had all the answers to the thing but putting all the bits and pieces together from the
DiCenza
angle made the events of the past few days much more coherent when trying to draw a total picture. I still did not know what to make of the angle on Craig
Maan
and the reason for involving me in the thing—but sometimes it's too much to expect total coherency—sometimes dumb events intrude coincidentally upon sober events and serve only to cloud the picture, so I wasn't holding out for a neat package.

I had plenty enough to worry about with what I had, and what I had was a rather clear picture involving a federal judge and one of the biggest racketeers west of the Mississippi.

You have to understand the mentality at play here. In all their dealings, these people primarily rely on non-verbal communications. They don't say to you, "Cooperate or I’ll kill you." Instead they kill someone close to you and that is supposed to be a metaphor for your own fate if you choose to oppose them. Or if you value that other life more highly than your own, they kill someone close to the other person and the message is the same.

These people would not directly threaten a federal judge, and they would not kidnap his daughter and send a ransom note. But someone somewhere at some opportune moment would find a way to indirectly suggest that the judge's daughter could be highly vulnerable to an attack by his enemies, and then they would show him by example how easy it would be.

They would wait then, to see if he comes around. How long the wait would depend on the urgency of their situation. But they'd wait long enough at least to check the effect of the message. If it didn't seem to be working—if this is a stubborn judge and he is moving to make his daughter less vulnerable—then the kidnap would be the logical next move.

That is what I was worried about. And I was worried, too, about the hanging judge. Maybe he would not submit

to that kind of blackmail, not even with his daughter's life at stake—and maybe tempers would flare if all else failed and someone would decide to send that smart judge his daughter's head in a sack merely to teach him a lesson.

So, yes, in that assessment Judith was in very grave danger and the next shoe could drop at any time. Although I was not panicked, I also felt that it was no time to hem and haw over fine points of law with the official cop in the case while he runs along blind alleys in pursuit of a metaphor. That is why I smacked Art
Lahey
instead of letting him cuff me and haul me off to jail for no damned good reason at all. If I was right, I could square things later. If I was wrong, of course, then I'd probably worked my final case as a private cop in the state of California—or probably anywhere else.

But if I was right. . . then maybe I was Judith White's only hope for a happy outcome from this thing. It's not that I came to this big decision to risk life and career for a woman I barely knew. I knew her well enough, in the first place—how much better to know any woman than to spend three hours locked in her passionate embrace?— and if my primary interests were longevity and wealth I would not have picked this kind of work to begin with.

Hell, I'm a cop. Makes no difference whether the taxpayers or private clients are sponsoring me, I'm a cop. That's what I am and it's what I do.

And that is what I was doing when I smacked
Lahey
.

I traveled west through the foothills and ten minutes deep into L.A. county before I started looking for a public phone, and I called Judith first.

I told her briefly what had happened, and I told her

briefly about my worse fears, and then I urged her to get in touch with her father as quickly as possible.

      
"What am I supposed to tell him?"

      
"Tell him,
dammit
, that his lifeguards are behind bars in San Bernardino and that he should send replacements damned quick!"

      
"Oh God, Joe, I don't want to do that," she wailed. "He has enough on his mind already."

      
I couldn't believe it, and I told her that. I also told her, "The worse damned thing you can do is let yourself get snatched! Then they've got your dad by the
ying
-yang for sure! So if your concern is only for him ..."

      
She said, "Maybe you're right."

      
"Damned right I'm right. Call him! Then you sit tight! Don't go anywhere without an escort. Stay right there! Understand?"

      
I guess she didn't. "Joe, this is silly. I can't spend the rest of my life with bodyguards."

      
"Maybe you won't spend the rest of your life with anyone then, and maybe you don't have a hell of a lot left to spend. Look!—Judith!—Judy,
dammit
!—this isn't a three-act play and you're not on a stage. It's real life and these people have shown us how little they value other people's real lives. They're playing to win and they will win if you try to just shrug it off."

      
She said, "Well..." in a very undecided tone of voice.

      
"I'm not asking you to go into hiding. I'm just telling you to be sensible. Use sensible caution. Don't expose yourself unnecessarily. Does that make sense?"

      
"I guess it does," she said. "I promise I’ll call Daddy."

      
"And don't leave the theater without an escort."

      
"
Joe..Very
undecided again.

      
I said, "Okay. Okay. I’ll pick you up tonight."

      
"How will you do that? That sheriff will be looking for you, won't he?"

      
"Probably all the sheriffs are looking for me by now," I told her. "But I’ll work it out. Wait for me."

      
"Okay."

      
"Promise."

      
"I promise. Where will you be in the meantime?"

      
I said, "Hell, I don't know."

      
"Why don't you go up to my place. Nobody would look for you there, would they?"

      
I thought about that for a second, then replied, "Maybe that's an idea. Where do you live and how do I get in?"

      
"Up near San Antonio Heights." She gave me the address and I jotted it on my palm. "Just ring the doorbell and tell
Gertie
who you are. I’ll call ahead so she’ll be expecting you."

      
"Who's
Gertie
?"

      
"The housekeeper. Don't worry, she's—"

      
"You've got a housekeeper?"

      
She laughed softly as she replied, "Well not out of my salary. Family money pays for the expenses on the house."

      
"You're living with your dad?"

      
"No, it's the old family home, Joe. Dad has a condo down in L.A." Her voice took on a kidding tone as she added, "Our lives are entirely separate and entirely our own .. . so maybe I’ll pick up that rain check tonight."

      
I said, "Best offer I've had since uh . . . how long ago was it?—about noontime?"

      
She wasn't kidding anymore as she told me, "That was

really wild, Joe. Keeps bouncing back on me. Can't get you out of my head. What did you do to me?—spike my drink, or something? I've never ..."

      
I told her, "Always takes two to tango, kid. But I'd be happy to compare notes with you later tonight."

      
"Deal," she said.

      
"So keep it intact."

      
"Keep what intact?"

      
"Keep that gorgeous ass intact with the rest of the equipment. Don't hang it out anywhere and invite someone to whack it off. 'Cause I don't want you without your ass, kid."

      
Judith hung up laughing, but I did not.

      
I was deadly serious, and even more so after I'd called Art
Lahey
.

      
I called for
Lahey
from the same public phone and I told the guy who picked it up, "If he's not on the line in thirty seconds I'm hanging up."

      
I got him in ten, and not in the best of humor.

      
Lahey
growled, "I can't believe this, you crazy bastard."

      
"Start believing," I suggested, "and begin with the idea that I'm sincerely sorry that I had to conk you, then—"

      
"I can live with the conk. But I’ll probably never make a baby again."

      
"You've made enough already," I told him. "Don't try to stall me, Art. I know how long it's safe to hang on here so forget it and let's talk to the point. You're on a false trail.
    
I don't care what kind of evidence you've got, it's not what it looks like. You've got the
DiCenza
bunch in your territory now and they make what they want to make. Keep a guard on that girl and you’ll be a hero. Don't, and you'll be the asshole they want you to be."

      
He said, "Speaking of assholes, we're pulling your license. And I just issued an APB. You're armed and dangerous, so don't expect any special handling when they throw you down."

      
I said, "I'm not armed, Art."

      
"You've got my pistol."

      
"Not me," I assured him. "I left it with you."

      
"Wasn't there when I came around."

      
"Then someone else is armed and probably much more dangerous," I told him. "Do you have some people down there at that God damned theater now?"

      
He said, "Enough that you'd better give it a wide berth, asshole."

      
"They'll come at you and right through you," I warned him. "I've dealt with people like these before, so don't put your cadets down there, these people don't play defensively. It's offense all the way and you'd better get ready for it."

      
I hung it up and got away from there.

      
So maybe I'd overplayed it just a bit. Then again, maybe not.